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“Mother said that was what she’d heard. Said you’re too scared to move on to a bigger location.”
I don’t answer, but Jasmine does.
“Honestly, Dru! I’ve told her the same thing a million times. I know the director of HR at Presbyterian Hospital, and he could get her any job she wants!”
Heaven forbid my best friend defend me. I think hell would freeze over before that happened.
“I like my job,” I say. “I enjoy helping those in need.”
There’s a beat of silence before Dru says, “Well, I suppose it works out, since you know what it’s like to be poor. You’re practically the poster child for welfare.”
My chest is tight. Yeah, my father made a lot of mistakes in his life, but the biggest one was not having a will when he remarried. He never expected he’d die young, so he didn’t think to make sure I’d be taken care of. Or maybe he thought the woman he married would take me in as her own if something happened. The thought is laughable now. My stepmother could have helped me, but she kept every cent he had, spending it until it was gone. Now, she’s moved onto another rich husband and probably doesn’t even think about my father anymore.
Richard, who is to my left, says, “We’d love to have you over for dinner, Ellie. How long are you in town for?”
“Just tonight,” I say.
At the same time, Jasmine says, “A month.”
“A month? What are you talking about?”
“Ellie,” she drags my name out into several syllables. “I’m helping plan an event for a museum, and I need you.”
Warning bells go off in the back of my mind. I wondered when she told me to be here tonight what her real motive was. Am I about to find out now?
“I can’t just miss work for a month, Jasmine. I have obligations.”And bills.“Besides, since when do you care about museums?”
Because that was always something that I loved, but never had time for. Sure, I visit them, but I’ve always dreamed of working behind the scenes. It’s just not feasible at this point in my life.
“After your last visit, I reached out to the Met and asked if they had any openings. My dear husband was able to pull some strings to get me on the committee.”
She rubs Jafar’s muscular arm, making me sick for more than one reason.
I would give anything to be on a committee for the Metropolitan Museum of Art. Hell, I’d even clean their bathrooms if it meant having unlimited access. She drops her husband’s name and gets a job without a second thought? It’s just not fair.
“What is the event?”
If she says the Met Gala, I’m going to scream.
“The Met Gala, of course.”
My throat burns, and I reach for my glass to find it empty with no waitstaff in sight.
“Will you do it? I can get you on the list if you help me.”
I sigh. She knows she has me.
“I’ll have to speak to my boss.”
“I knew I could count on you.” She beams at Jafar. “Now introduce her to Al.”
Jafar lets out a huff of air. “Al, meet Ellie. Ellie, meet Al.”
The man to my right turns, giving me a megawatt smile. I can see why Jasmine thinks he’s handsome, but he’s not really the type of guy I’d go after on my own. Sure, he could be a model with his sun-kissed skin, shaggy brown hair, black eyes, and a boyish smile that’s contagious. But I seem to prefer one particular brooding Arab American man who is married to by best friend, no matter how wrong I know it is.
“Nice to meet you, Ellie. I’ve heard so many great things about you from Jasmine.”
Jasmine titters. “Oh, stop.”
