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  Prada’s new line is on trend.   Queen Wintour never gets it wrong.”

 
 
 
 
    CHAPTER NINE

 
    It
was a rare girls’ day out, and despite the sorry condition of my feet, which
were still sore even in the most comfortable and forgiving flats that I owned,
Lisa and I made a day of it.  
    My
hair was styled and colored by Salon V on East Seventh Street.   Nothing dramatic, just enough to
complement the oval shape of my face, with a chestnut color that enhanced the
look.   I treated each of us to a
facial and a mani-pedi.
    “We’re
in the wrong business,” Lisa said when the bill was tallied and I paid the
cashier with my credit card.   “Good
grief.”
    “It’ll
be worth it,” I said.
    “You
look amazing.”
    “She’s
right,” the cashier said.   “You
do.   I wish I looked like you.”
    I
smiled at her.   “That’s very kind of
you.”
    “Trust
me.   It’s the truth.”
    I
flushed at the compliment.   “I need
to look my best.”   I looked at Lisa,
who was wearing skinny jeans, red double-strap patent-leather sandals, and a
white tank with nothing beneath it save for her full breasts and a clear view
of her nipples.  
    As
racy as she looked, it was a look she could pull off.   Her blonde hair was pulled away from her
face in a simple ponytail that fell to the small of her back.   With the exception of mascara, she wore
almost no makeup because she didn’t need much.   To me, she was the pretty one.   She studied style and loved fashion, and
it came easily to her, which made me smile because otherwise her life revolved
around successfully writing about zombies.  
    “Do
you think I did the right thing by keeping most of the length?”
    “You
can do more with your hair that way.   Any number of things.   And
your split ends are history.   Thank
God for that.   One day, you and your
cheap shampoo will part.”
    “I
haven’t done this since we left Maine.   I was way overdue for all of it.   And if the job at Wenn doesn’t work out, it will just help me when I
look for a waitressing gig.”
    “A
server gig?”
    “Right.”
    “And
it will.   But you’re going to land
this job, so we won’t think of the other right now.   It’s all about confidence.   Looking like you do now, you should be
filled with it.”
    But
I wasn’t.   I wondered if that day
would ever come.
    On
Lisa’s dime, we took a cab to Prada on Fifth Avenue.   After trying on six different outfits, I
bought a pale blue suit with a white silk top that fit perfectly and worked
well with my hair color and skin tone.   The suit was nearly three thousand dollars, though I scored big when we
found some discounted leather point-toe Prada pumps that cost a third of what
the Louboutins would have cost me.   I had to hold my breath when I paid for them.   What was I doing?   Today had cost me a fortune I didn’t
have.
    I’m doing the right thing.   I’m investing in my future.
    At
least I hoped that was the case.
    After
finishing our cheap salads and Diet Cokes at a corner table at
McDonald’s—we had to make a concession somewhere on this ridiculously
expensive day—Lisa grilled me with leading questions in an effort to
prepare me for tomorrow’s interview.   When she finished, she seemed pleased by the answers.
    “Well,
there’s one thing that can be said for the past four months,” she said.
    “What’s
that?”
    “Because
you’ve had so many interviews, you’re more than prepared for whatever comes
tomorrow.   It’s as if you have your
master’s degree in interviewing.   Whatever he lobs at you, you’ll be prepared for it.”
    “Do
you think so?”
    “I
know so.”
    Neither
of us could have known then how wrong she was.

 
 
 
 
    CHAPTER TEN

 
    At
ten minutes before noon, I arrived at Wenn Enterprises by cab.   The taxi was yet another treat from
Lisa.   I owed her big time.   Not just for the financial support, but
also for the emotional support.   To
make