“At least I can check out the new digs you’re staying at.”
“Actually, I kind of need a favor. Do you have a nice pantsuit or outfit I can borrow for an interview?”
Ava laughs softly as we both enter her car. “Are we impressing a hot CEO or some old dude we don’t want anywhere near our panties?”
I shudder at the thought. “Gross, I would never. It reminds me of the time Eric told me one of his clients had a fetish for used panties. The more they were used, the more money they were worth.”
“It’s true. There’s a market for it. The crustier, the better.”
“Okay,” I moan while cringing. “You took it way too far. How about a nice outfit that makes me look mature and not like some angsty college dropout?”
“You must attempt college to be a dropout,” Ava teases, lightening the somber mood that clouded tonight. “I’m good with my outfits, but I don’t know if I’m that good.”
“You’re the queen of fashion. You’ll come up with something,” I tell her while grinning.
“Challenge, accepted.”
ELEVEN
My pants are too tight and bunch up between my legs, making sitting very uncomfortable.
Ava insisted I wear pants over a skirt to impress. If I want to be taken seriously, showing my legs is not the way. Also, something about pantsuits is so in right now. Regardless, I send her a quick text to vent my frustrations.
Me:Your pants are giving me camel toe. This is worse than showing a leg.
The bubble appears at record speed, much like her response.
Ava:I’m with Eric. He says to be careful. There’s good camel toe, and there’s bad camel toe.
I abandon the conversation because, in my opinion, there’s no such thing as good camel toe. Besides, I need to focus on this interview and forget about these stupid pants.
As much as it pained me to do so, I took April up on her offer to accept an interview for a job at her stepfather's company. It would have been nice to have at least met him, given I’m staying at his place, but he hasn’t come home since. Apparently, he travels a lot which is why April said the house is always empty.
I met April’s mother, Kathy, who is nice enough if you ignore the whole being hung up on money thing. She spent most of her time shopping or vacationing with her new circle of rich friends. According to April, she was never like that, and for the most part, had a decent childhood raised by Kathy despite them scrapping for money.
Money changes everyone.
The once-doting mother no longer cares what her daughter does. I know April is hurt by the change but refuses to dwell on it. She’s a glass-half-full kinda girl and is always trying to focus on the positives.
Yeah, the universe and all that bullshit.
Inside the very modern lobby, I glance around and notice I’m not the only girl sitting there. There are five of us, and all of the others appear to be the same age as me. Of course, they’re all wearing short dresses. Here I am, dressed like some mom with pants riding so far up my vagina.
The pantsuit is navy and simple in its cut. Ava suggested a classic white blouse beneath and even allowed me to borrow her tan Louboutins. Thank God we’re the same size in everything because it pays off at times like this, except for the whole camel toe part. Maybe Ava’s vagina is smaller than mine.
My hair is pinned back into a tight bun which keeps it out of my face and professional. As I try not to focus on my nerves, an older woman comes out of the elevator and calls for an Ella. The blonde girl sitting across from me stands up, almost tripping on her heels, then follows the lady.
This happens again with Selina, Harriet, and Emily, all their names I’d learned while I waited for one hour until it was my turn.
“Alexandra,” the older lady finally calls my name.
With a smile, I stand up and follow her into the elevator. I’m unsure what to say or if the protocol is to keep quiet. As a kid, my dad often reminded me of the importance of introducing myself so that everyone knows my name. Some things stick, I guess.
Quickly, I extend my hand. “I’m Alexandra Edwards. It’s nice to meet you.”
The lady looks confused, then nods. “Meredith Hancock. I’m Mr. Cash’s Executive Assistant.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Hancock.”