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"Yeah, she's here. Oh. Alright, I'll let her in."
She ended the call and smiled at me. "He's anxious, and you know how he gets. He's waiting for the file."
"Sure," I replied, and she smiled broadly at me.
"When you're done, stop by and tell me all about this haircut. I'm thinking of going shorter too. Is it your usual hair salon or somewhere else? I need all the details."
I stared at her for a moment, nodded, and then headed to the office. Chating—now this was the part I didn't like. It was one of the perks of not working in any place too long because it meant I didn't need to pretend to be sociable or social. I could do my work, keep the chatter to a minimum, and immediately be on my way. I was attending law school later at night, so during the day, I needed to conserve my energy as much as possible.
The CFO was just as old as I'd expected, something to do with giving zero fucks by the time he came into work. And he surprised me with his accent, which was hardcore British. It made me wonder how he found his way all the way here in the Big Apple. Perhaps he was scouted.
He barely looked at me or noticed me. All he did was take the document from me and then began to peruse it.
"Thanks," he said, and after acknowledging this, I turned around and went on my way. Their office was gorgeous, much more sophisticated and luxurious than ours was, but that was expected for the location smack in the middle of Manhattan.
I was nervous, I realized, and for this very reason, I was excited. Hopefully, I didn't end up costing Sophie her job at the end of the day, but it had been such a long time since I had felt this excitement when it came to going to work. And so I decided right then that I was most definitely going to take this gig.
Chapter 4
Scarlett
"Absolutely not."
A few hours later, I was lounging in Sophie's hanging reading chair and watching as she laid out clothes across her bed for me for the week.
"You're going as me," she said. "You can't dress to draw attention."
"I also can't dress in a way that will destroy me inside. Absolutely not, Sophie."
"What's wrong with button-downs?"
"They're just button-downs and beige, tan, green? Jesus."
She sighed then and collapsed onto the bed.
"You're supposed to be letting me rest, not stirring up my emotions for no reason."
"I've told you multiple times to rest. I don't need to wear your clothes, plus I am busier than you are. I'll tone it down but I'll keep my style. Trust me, it'll do your brand wonders."
"And then after you leave?" she asked.
I shrugged, and she gave me a dark look.
"It's just clothes, Sophie," I said. "No one really cares what anyone wears. I just want to look my best, conservativelyspeaking, of course, so that I can feel confident enough to handle all the shots that might come at me. Trust me, from the little preview earlier today, I'm expecting there to be many, many more. I don't want to feel like an imposter; I want to feel like myself, and if I do, then I'll be unflustered."
She watched me again and then collapsed against the bed.
We were both silent for a while as I returned my attention to my book, but from time to time, my gaze went to her.
"Are you okay?" I asked.
"Yeah," she replied. "What did you think of my boss?" she asked.
"Lucien?"
"Yeah," she replied. "What did you call him?"
"Well, I haven't called him directly by name yet. What do you usually call him?"
