Page 6 of Pretend To Be Mine

Chris: Seriously though, you okay?

My fingers hovered over the keyboard. I could tell him I was fine. I had been telling him everything was great. But it wasn’t great. Things were spiraling. I was spiraling.

Or I could be honest.

Me: Starting to wonder if I’m delusional.

The dots appeared immediately, indicating he was typing. Then they disappeared. Then appeared again. Chris: Call me?

I hit the call button before I could think too hard about it.

He answered on the first ring. “Lizzie.”

“Hey.”

“Talk to me. What happened?”

I told him about yet another rejection and the growing sense that I’d made a terrible mistake choosing fashion design as a career. “Maybe I should have gone into accounting,” I finished weakly. “At least accountants get jobs.”

“Accountants also have to deal with taxes all day. Taxes are no fun. You’re not an accountant. You’re a designer. And really talented at that.”

“Apparently the fashion industry disagrees with your assessment.”

I heard him moving around on the other end, the clatter of pots and pans that meant he was in his kitchen, probably prepping for tomorrow’s gig. Chris had always been like this, most focused when his hands were busy. He was a caterer. A damn good one. Successful. Everything I was not.

“You know what your problem is?” he said.

“I’m not good enough?”

“Your problem is you don’t know the right people.” There was a pause, then more clattering. “This industry is all about connections. Who you know, who knows you, who can vouch for you.”

“Great. So I’m doomed because I don’t know anyone.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Chris, what are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking…” More pause. I heard water running. “I’m thinking I might know someone who could help.”

My heart did a weird little flip. “Who?”

“Adrian Blackwell.”

I actually laughed. “Adrian Blackwell. I know you guys are friends but I could never ask him for a favor.”

I didn’t know Adrian and I hated the idea of using my brother’s connections to get a job. That was wrong, right?

“You’re not asking him for a favor,” Chris said. “I would be doing it. And I’m just going to ask him if he knows of any openings anywhere. That’s not even a favor. It’s just a regular question.”

The offer hung in the air between us, tempting and terrifying in equal measure.

“Chris, I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

“Do you have a better one?” he asked.

“Well, no, but you’d be using your friendship to get me a favor. That’s not cool.”

“Lizzie.” His voice took on that big-brother tone that always made me listen. “You’re my sister. You’re crazy talented, and you’re getting screwed by a system that values connections over ability. So yeah, I’m going to use my connection to help you. That’s what connections are for.”