I sighed and took another sip of the tart liquid. Then I pointed to the fridge.
Cressida glanced back. “Are you pointing to the paper you stuck on there?” she asked.
I nodded. The tiny square was blank, save for five numbers—88764. “That’s the code for the front gate. The guy I interviewed with told me it over the phone and I figured I’d just bring the paper with me when I went.”
“And you forgot?” she filled in.
I nodded grimly. “Big time. And then I panicked and did the only rational thing I could think of.”
“You pressed the buzzer and got him to let you in?”
“Apparently everyone knows about buzzers on gates except me. So no, I climbed over the gate. Like a total weirdo.” I popped the last bite of a cheese stick into my mouth to keep from sighing as Cressida buckled over with laughter.
“You did not.”
“I did,” I confirmed. “And of course, that meant I couldn’t drive up their insanely long driveway so I had to walk, but then I was going to be late so that turned into a run. I swear to god that thing could double as a runway for the private plane I’m sure they have stashed somewhere on the property.”
Cressida’s coarse laughter continued. I waited it out with another mouthful of wine and a hefty dose of glare. Her long blonde hair rolled over and covered her face. She didn’t even bother to push it away.
Just as quickly as she’d dissolved, Cressida sobered up. “But then I’m sure you wowed him, right?”
“Well, it started well…” I shrugged.
Her fierce blue eyes narrowed on me. Because of her lean frame, she often reminded me of an elf when she looked at me like that.
“Until I got snarky with him because he said Jamie Oliver’s an idiot.”
She snorted. “Well you were right to do so,” she replied. “Nobody talks about our Jamie like that.”
I leaned back into the chair, sliding my socked feet along the cool linoleum. “And I’m sure it will come as a great comfort to me, when I’m forced to subsist on ramen noodles for the next six months, that I defended the honor of a multimillionaire celebrity chef that lives thousands of miles away.”
“I wouldn’t worry too much about it, hon,” she said. “Did he actually say it was a no?”
I shook my head. “He said he had other people to interview and that he’d call me when he knew.”
“Then he’ll call you when he knows,” she shrugged. “So try not to freak out until then.”
I took another swig of my drink. Easier said than done.
Just as I reached for a spring roll, my phone vibrated in my pocket. I nearly jumped out of my chair.
“Jeez, Liz,” Cressida hissed. “You’re going to give me a heart attack. Relax a little.”
I smiled apologetically and fished my phone out of my pocket, checking the caller ID. It said it was private, just as it had when I’d received the call about the interview. But that didn’t mean anything. Lots of people blocked their numbers these days. It was probably a telemarketer.
“Hello?”
“Ah, Ms. Paulson. It’s Todd Franklin.”
I paled. Cressida must have caught my expression because she dropped her spring roll mid-bite and ran around to my side, pressing her ear close to mine.
“Hi Mr. Franklin,” I said. “I didn’t expect to hear from you so soon.”
His breathy laugh crackled through the line. “I didn’t expect to make a decision so quickly.”
I waited, not even daring to breathe.
“I am delighted to offer you the position, Ms. Paulson. Your interview impressed me and I don’t believe interviewing the other candidates will be necessary after all.” He chuckled. “I particularly enjoyed your proposed dissection of the foyer. I look forward to seeing what you can do with it.”
I dropped the phone, which turned out to be fine since Cressida snatched it before it even moved an inch. She always had my back.
“Wow, thank you!” I sputtered. “I—I’m so excited to get started!”
“Please meet me at the residence at nine a.m. on Monday. I’ll give you the grand tour, and then we can get started. Does that suit?”
“Yes!” I practically shouted. Then, quieter, “Yes, I think that will suit just fine.”
“Great. See you then.”
“Bye,” I said. “Th—”
Cressida took the phone away from my ear and hit the end call button before I could finish my words.
“I was just going to say thank you,” I said, snatching it back.
She shrugged and walked back over to her side of the table. “You can’t blame me for being cautious,” she replied. “You get really weird on the phone.”
I opened my mouth to argue, but she was right. I’d accidentally told the pizza guy I loved him once as I hung up. She still brought it up anytime we ordered for delivery.
“So you got the job,” she said in a measured tone.
I nodded. “I got the job.”
“And it’s Friday night.”
“It is.”
“And tomorrow is Saturday.”
I nodded slowly, narrowing my eyes in suspicion. “Yes. That’s how the days of the week work.”
She grinned, eyes lighting up with mischief. “Then methinks it’s time to go celebrate, girl.” She grabbed a mozzarella stick and thrust it in the air like a beacon. “To the bar!”
3
Elizabeth
The pounding bassline resonated through my ears, driving deep within me like railroad spikes. And we hadn’t even gotten inside yet.
“I told you Repeat was too exclusive,” I grumbled. “We should have just gone to The Juniper Tree like we usually do.”
Cressida was swaying on her feet, though not from drunkenness. If there was music playing, Cressida was dancing to it. Most of the time it seemed more subconscious than anything else.
“And I told you,” she said, “The Juniper Tree is no place to celebrate getting your dream job.” She smiled and batted her lashes at a passing stranger with dreamy blue eyes. “When you’re the best, you deserve the best.”
Sighing, I returned my gaze to the bouncers at the front of the line. We were close enough now that I could almost smell the sweat and bad decisions coming from inside. The buzz from my wine, however, had worn off half an hour ago.
“Relax, Liz.” Cressida punched me lightly on the arm. “Good things come to those who wait.”
Whether anything good would come out of this remained to be seen.
I was being cranky and Cressida didn’t deserve it. Not after she’d made me food and listened to me gripe about my job interview. Not after she’d dropped everything she was doing to get me out on the town as soon as I got the call from Todd.
I plastered on a smile and decided to enjoy the evening as best as I could.
The taller bouncer with the ginger beard finally waved us in, removing the velvet rope from our path.
“Here we go!” she whispered, grabbing me by the hand and pulling me inside.
We worked our way through the heaving darkness to the bar, where Cressida ordered us both a cocktail and a shot. I sunk my shot back with a grimace. It burned like hell.