Saturday evening arrived faster than I expected.
I spent most of the afternoon preparing for an event I wasn't particularly excited about. My suit was old, slightly tight around the shoulders, and had been borrowed from my uncle. I polished my shoes twice and checked my reflection in the bathroom mirror more times than I cared to admit.
My mother watched me from the kitchen doorway.
"Look at you," she said, smiling. "You look handsome."
"Don't start, Mom."
"I'm serious. Where's this young lady taking you?"
I laughed.
"She's not taking me anywhere. I'm taking her."
My mother raised an eyebrow.
"Then you better behave yourself."
I promised I would.
Janelle, who was twelve, found the entire situation hilarious.
"You're going to prom with your boss's daughter?" she asked. "That's so weird."
"Thank you for your support."
"Are you going to dance?"
"Probably not."
"Then why are you even going?"
I couldn't answer that without mentioning the extra money, so I simply shook my head and grabbed my keys.
My uncle's old car was waiting outside. It had a noisy engine, a scratched passenger door, and a habit of making an unpleasant rattling sound whenever I drove over uneven roads. It wasn't the kind of vehicle people imagined arriving at prom in, but it was reliable enough to get me from one place to another.
At exactly seven o'clock, I pulled up outside Sheldon's large house.
Georgia was waiting near the entrance.
She wore a beautiful blue dress, and her hair was carefully arranged. She looked nothing like the quiet girl I had occasionally seen visiting her father's office. She was dressed for a celebration, but her expression suggested she would rather be somewhere else.
"Hi," I said, stepping out of the car.
"Hey."
I opened the passenger door.
She glanced at the vehicle.
"Interesting transportation choice."
I smiled awkwardly.
"Sorry. It's not exactly a limousine."
"I didn't ask for a limousine."
She climbed inside and adjusted her dress.
During the drive, I tried to make conversation. I asked about her classes, her friends, and whether she was looking forward to graduation.
Her answers were short.
"Fine."
"Not really."
"I guess."
Eventually, I stopped trying to force a conversation.
The silence wasn't uncomfortable exactly, but it was strange. I wondered whether she was upset about her original date canceling or simply didn't want to spend the evening with her father's employee.
When we arrived at the school, the parking area was already crowded. Couples were taking photographs beneath decorative lights, parents were waving goodbye, and students were laughing as they entered the building.
I parked and walked around to open Georgia's door.
Before she stepped out, she looked at me.
"Daniel, can I show you something?"
"Sure."
She unlocked her phone and handed it to me.
A message from her father filled the screen.
It read:
"Remember our agreement. Don't make things too easy for him. I want to see how he handles pressure when he thinks nobody is evaluating him."
I read it twice.
Then I looked at her.
"What is this?"
Georgia sighed.
"That's why I haven't said much during the drive."
I handed the phone back.
"Is this about me?"
She nodded.
"Unfortunately."
For a moment, I couldn't decide whether to laugh or become angry.
"Your father asked me to take you to prom, and now I'm apparently part of some experiment?"
"Not exactly an experiment," she said. "More like an evaluation."
"An evaluation of what?"
She looked toward the school entrance.
"Whether you can handle difficult people without losing your temper."
I stared at her.
"You're joking."
"I wish I were."
She explained that her father had been talking about me for weeks. He had noticed how I handled difficult shipments, how I treated other employees, and how I responded when customers complained.
Apparently, he wanted to see whether I behaved the same way outside the warehouse.
Georgia had been instructed to make unreasonable requests throughout the evening. She was supposed to challenge my patience, create awkward situations, and observe how I reacted.
"Why would he do that?" I asked.
"Because he thinks people act differently when they know they're being watched."
I shook my head.
"That's ridiculous."
"I know."
She looked genuinely uncomfortable.
"I didn't agree because I thought it was fair. I agreed because Dad said this might help him decide whether you're ready for something bigger at the company."
I felt my stomach tighten.
Something bigger?
Before I could ask what she meant, Georgia slipped her phone into her purse and gave me a small, mischievous smile.
"Well, Daniel Carter, are you ready for your evaluation?"
I looked at the crowded entrance, then back at her.
I had come expecting an awkward evening.
Instead, I had just discovered that my employer had turned a school dance into an unofficial job interview.
And apparently, the real test was only beginning.