“Oh, I thought there weren’t going to be new openings for a while…”

“Yeah, um…” Natalie sounds embarrassed. “We had a person resign and so the position is open now.”

“Is this ‘someone’ Aurora Vanderbilt?”

“Yes, she quit after… well, I’m sure you know.”

I wonder if Aurora really quit or if they gave her a choice between resigning and being fired. Now the tax evasion scandal is out in the open, Évoque will do everything they can to distance the magazine from Maison Vanderbilt. Guess their money is no longer good now that everyone knows where it comes from.

What a bunch of hypocrites.

“Anyway,” Natalie continues. “Emilia has an opening in her calendar Friday morning at eight, would that work for you?”

“I’d need to take time off work. Would it be possible to have an appointment in the late evening?”

“I’m sorry, Emilia’s very busy. This is her only opening.”

That presumptuous bitch. She’s asking me to come in for an interview, but of course, I have to adjust my schedule to hers. She knows I want the job more than she wants to give it to me. As much as I can’t stand her, this is a real job, at a top magazine. My dream. No matter if I can’t stand the HR Manager, it’s not like I’ll have to work with her. I only need to survive the interview. Yeah, and go back to work at bitchland, leaving all the nice colleagues, work independence, and the boss you’re in love with behind.

Stop it, Richard won’t factor in this decision. Period.

“Okay, Natalie. I’ll adjust my schedule. See you on Friday.”

Twenty

Never Mix Business and Pleasure

On Thursday night, I don’t have the guts to ask Richard in person for a free morning. Not only because we’re not on speaking terms, but also because if he were to ask why, what would I say? I was never good at lying, and telling the boss about the interview would only be pouring gasoline on the fire. Plus, I don’t even know if I’ll have anything to tell. This is a preliminary chat. No need to cause a storm yet. I text him at the last minute Friday morning, saying I have a personal matter to attend to, and that I’ll be coming in later in the day.

The second hard part is leaving Chevron behind. She’s at my feet wagging her tail, ready for our morning walk, but I can’t bring a dog to the interview. Still unaware, said pup sits in the hallway, waiting for me to hook her leash.

“Not today, honey.”

Chevron’s tail slows down.

I open the door. “I’ll be back in a couple of hours.”

She drops to the floor, tail static, eyes wide. My heart breaks a little as I lock the apartment, leaving her all alone.

What will I do if I accept the new job? I’m sure Évoque doesn’t have a bring-your-pet-to-the-office policy. Imagine Chevron running loose in the fashion closet. That would be something. With a better paycheck, you’ll be able to afford the best dog-sitter in the city. Yeah, Northwestern must know they have to offer me a salary bump for me to even consider going back.