This woman has unique but unmistakably French taste, which I really like.
I promise myself to buy some jewelry for myself when my salary finally gets to a quarter of a million.
"I'll be quick because I know you're not alone here," she continues, leaning a little bit closer to me. "I saw you with that asshole Jack Harden the day he met Masterson."
I don't even know what to say. I imagine she heard everything; I'm sure the whole restaurant did. But I still have no idea why she’s talking to me.
"As a woman myself, I know how hard it can be to survive in this world of business where men like Harden and Masterson are in charge." Virginia opens her bag and takes out a business card, holding it over the table to me.
I take the card with her name and her phone number on it.
Does she want to do some kind of collaboration with our company? That would be great.
"I know he offered you a job," she continues because I say nothing, merely staring at the card. "I heard your conversation with them, and I think you deserve better."
Okay, I get it. There will be no collaboration.
This woman is wonderful, a true legend in the beauty industry. Sky won't believe me when I tell her who I met on this trip.
But why is she telling me this? To support me? To tell me I’m worth more than this?
But she doesn't know me, and she doesn't know what I've been through to get where I am now.
"Thank you so much, Virginia," I say after a long pause, "you have no idea how glad I am to speak to you in person."
I smile awkwardly, nervously fingering the table, encouraging myself to ask her why she's here.
"Why are you telling me this?" I finally ask, so quietly, as if I'm afraid this question may offend her somehow.
At first, Virginia simply looks at me, surprised, but then she starts laughing.
"Oh, honey, I'm offering you a job!" she exclaims loudly and waves to the waiter, asking him for a glass of water.
Her words don’t sink in immediately, and I have to repeat them a couple of times in my head before I realize that this is all happening for real.
Virginia Fleurant is offering me a job.Personally.
Does she have an office in New York, or is it a job offer in France? And what would my position in the company be?
A week ago I would have killed for an opportunity like this. I’d agree to take this job without even reading the contract, but now…
The circumstances have changed, and so have I.
Before I have a chance to tell her that I'm not interested, Virginia speaks again. "I heard your marketing strategy, and I think it's brilliant. I’ve been looking for someone like you for a long time: someone with a fresh vision, young and fearless."
She takes a couple of sips from her glass of water, and I realize that my throat is dry, too. I also need water. Or maybe fresh air.
"A quarter-million dollars for a start, and five hundred for breaking the contract with Harden and signing with me," she asserts before I can formulate a response.
My jaw drops to the floor.
I don't need water or air; I need a bottle of rum.
"Five hundred…" I begin, then trail off. There's no way she could offer methatmuch money.
"Five hundred thousand dollars, of course!" she exclaims with a smile as if she's not offering all that much, like it’s a free dinner or something, "Well, technically euros since you'll be living in France."
I stare at her with an open mouth, closing it and opening it again, unable to say a word.