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When she opened her eyes, Edmonia was smiling. “It’s my favorite,” shesaid.
“Itis?”
“It is.” She leaned against the desk. “Here’s the thing, Nina. I need help. Just a few hours a week, but I seriously need some help here. We have a show coming up and everything’s a mess and I have to order food and drinks and serving staff. I have to set up advertising and I still have an entirely blank fuckingwall.”
Nina nodded. “I did notice that. It’s kind of nice against the brick, but I guess it won’t do for ashow.”
“No, it will not do at all. I’ve been advertising for two weeks, but every kid who comes in here wants to be a famous photographer, thinks they’re going to get discovered sitting in this cube, talking to looky-loos who wander in on a Tuesday. Half of them don’t know how to make fucking coffee, and they definitely don’t know how to talk topeople.”
“That’s tough,” Nina admitted, not sure where the conversation washeaded.
“How about you?” Edmonia asked. “Do you know how to talk topeople?”
A flush of nervousness crept up Nina’s neck. “I mean, of course, but I don’t have any experience with photographyor— ”
“Let me rephrase,” Edmonia said. “Could you use a part-timejob?”
Nina sighed. “Actually, yes. Yes, Icould.”
“Twenty dollars an hour, about twenty hours a week to start, somewhat flexible schedule if you have to take your kid to theorthodontist?”
“I don’t havechildren.”
“I hate to say even better,” Edmonia grinned. “But for my purposes, even better. Do those terms work foryou?”
Nina took a deep breath. Was she really about to accept a job as a gallery assistant? A job for which she wasn’t remotelyqualified?
She nodded. “Theywork.”
