Page 31 of For the Love of Art

CHAPTER

FIVE

“Damn it!”

I twirled in the mirror for what felt like the millionth time in the millionth outfit. I was about to start my first day at the art gallery, and I didn’t look like someone who worked in a Manhattan art gallery.

I picked up my phone and quickly typed in a number I knew by heart.

“Isla, it’s like five in the morning,” Lianne said, her groggy face filling my screen.

“Try seven, and this is an emergency.”

“How can you have an emergency this early?” she whined.

“Easily. There’s a reason we hear sirens all night.”

Lianne bolted up.

“Oh my God! Are you hurt?”

“Yes. I called you, and instead of telling you I was injured, I talked to you about why we hear sirens twenty-four hours a day. No! I have a wardrobe emergency!”

Lianne groaned and lay back down. “Fine. Go on.”

Some of her braids fell in her face, and she brushed them off as she slipped on her glasses.

I flipped the camera so she could see me in the mirror. I put my hand on my hip as I tried to make the black pantsuit look more flattering than it was.

“Are you going to your first day at the gallery or your grandmother’s funeral?”

I clicked my tongue. “The dress code is business formal, black and white only.

“My question remains the same.”

“Li!”

Lianne laughed as I turned the camera back to my face.

“You look fine.”

“Fine never means fine. We all know on the scale of fine, there is absolute rock bottom, and then a hundred feet below that is fine.”

“No one expects you to have a perfect wardrobe the first day.”

“So my outfit sucks.”

Lianne sighed. “Isla. That’s the same suit you used to defend your thesis ten years ago.”

“I need new clothes, don’t I?”

“Lucky for you, you just got a fancy new job.” Lianne yawned. “Are we done? Can I go back to sleep?”

“You know you work today, right?”

“Frankie’s got it. I was up late last night.”

“Date?”