my head with a butterfly clip, and I actually was wearing a little bit of makeup. I was wearing a cast-off Armani suit that I managed to find after looking in every thrift store in town for three straight days. I picked up other suits, of course, but this was the absolute best suit that I ever hoped to be able to find, so I chose it for my first day.
The fact that this suit was around 10 years old, therefore I still would look out of place at this firm, was something that I had to ignore. It was designer, it fit, and that’s all that I needed to know. As for the shoes, they also came from a thrift store, but they were perfect. It felt amazing that I was able to look at least somewhat presentable for my first day, which would certainly go a long way in helping me to fake it until I made it.
“Fierce. Beautiful. Sexy. Like those bitches won’t know what hit them when Hurricane Scotty makes landfall at that firm.”
I smiled. I felt uncomfortable that he mentioned the word sexy though. “Sexy. Uh, I’m not showing cleavage. Is the fit too tight? I don’t want to be inappropriate.”
“No. You look like a nun. You’re just damn sexy no matter how hard you try not to be. Sorry. I calls ‘em as I sees ‘em.”
I went back in to look at the full-length mirror. I had to make sure that I looked professional, and not in the least bit slutty. I wanted them to take me seriously, and I wanted to repel all male attention.
Even Nick’s attention.
Especially Nick’s attention.
The past two weeks had been weird. I still went to Nick’s class, of course, but I refused to meet his eyes. I sat in the back of class, arriving late and making an excuse to leave early, or at least with the other kids. For his part, he didn’t address me in class, and he didn’t ask me to meet with him. The only time he spoke with me was last Thursday night.
“Scotty,” he said, as I tried to push my way out of his class with the other kids. “I’ll be seeing you on Monday, right? I already told the partners to get ready for you.”
“Yes. Yes, Professor O’Hara. I won’t go back on my word.”
He looked relieved and he smiled. “Good. Then I’ll see you. At 10, right?”
I nodded. I had to work this internship around my school schedule, and my classes were over at 10 on Monday, so that was what time I would be starting.
So, that weekend, Jack and I hit every thrift store within a twenty mile radius, it seemed. He took time out of his busy schedule to help me out. I had to rely on his fashion sense, as I had none. I mean, I was a student and I worked in a bar. What did I know about business attire?
We really had the time of our lives. It was like the scene in Pretty Woman, where Vivian came out in different outfits, except we weren’t on Rodeo Drive, but, rather, we were in various Salvation Army and Goodwill stores, and every other thrift store that we could find. There were surprisingly great clothes in these shops. I had to really look, but there were true gems.
Of course, I had to have accessories too. I managed to find a Coach purse that was in surprisingly good shape in one of the thrift stores we visited, and I picked up a battered briefcase for a song in another place. As for jewelry, there wasn’t a whole lot in these places, but Jack was kind enough to buy me a string of fake pearls at one of the Target stores we visited that day.
“Aw, that’s so sweet,” I said, as Jack presented these pearls for me. “You don’t have to do this.”
“It’s $20. I’ll survive. Think of it as a congratulations-on-your-kick-ass-job present.”
So, that was how I found myself looking in the full-view mirror that day, staring at myself in my used Armani suit that cost me $40, and my worn Jimmy Choos that I picked up for $20. Both of them were incredible finds, and I felt more confident about myself. But Jack was right – I showed zero skin. My blouse was buttoned all the way to the neck, and my skirt went below the knee. I