Page 39 of We Were Something
“You can’t wear that suit for an interview withSouth Bay Lifestyle,” she says. “It’s totally wrong for their aesthetic.”
I think back to the gray suit, one of the few pieces I own that fits me perfectly because I took it to a tailor and had them make some adjustments.
“What’s wrong with that suit?” I finally ask.
“Nothing,” she tells me. “You look…sogood in that suit. I mean, so good I threw up, right?”
A snort of laughter flies out of me. “Right.”
“ButSouth Bay Lifestyleis a magazine for local rich assholes, and the people who want tobelocal rich assholes. It’s a beachy magazine. A suit will be too formal.”
I pause, thinking it over, then something occurs to me.
“You know, they included suggestions about what to wear in the email I was sent, but I just never read it. Let me grab that.”
I pull my phone away from my ear and go to my email app, scrolling back to look through the few emails I have from Lars, the journalist who works forSBL. Once I’ve found it, I pull it up and look at the recommendations.
“You wanna know what it says?” I ask.
She makes a funny noise. “Duh.”
Chuckling, I read her the part that details the recommended attire. “Okay, it says:
Suggested dress: please bring several outfits and accessories to choose from. We recommend one beach outfit, one casual outfit, and one business casual. Accessories can range from jewelry to hats and bags. We will also provide additional items at the time of your interview and photo shoot.”
I pause, blinking a few times, then return the phone to my ear.
“Photo shoot?” I exclaim. “I thought it was just an interview and formal picture. Not some…major spread where I have to pose doing yoga or something.”
Just the idea of it suddenly creates this sensation of unease in my stomach. I’m a doctor, not a model. Sure, I might look nice and stay in shape, but that doesn’t mean I will have any idea what I’m doing.
“I could help you.”
Paige’s soft voice comes across the line and anchors me back to the here and now. To this conversation instead of the unknown that’s barreling my way with a camera and a recorder.
“I appreciate it, Paige, but…I just have no idea where to start.”
“I know you don’t,” she continues. “But I do. I went to school for fashion business management. My internship was forHarper’s Bazaar, and my job was to help get things set up for photo shoots. When I say Iknow exactly how to help you, I’m not joking.”
Somehow, I’m both surprised and not surprised at all to find out she did work for a major fashion magazine. “Wow. I had no idea.”
“There’s a lot you don’t know about me,” she teases. “And maybe you could find out more of those things if I help you get ready for this interview.”
I pause, thinking it over, trying to do a rapid assessment of the pros and cons.
Ultimately, I know I’m going to accept her offer. It doesn’t actually matter what the cons are. The pros outweigh them so heavily there’s no contest.
“That would be great, actually. Are you free this weekend? I could probably finish up work around three on Friday if I really push through some things and hand over my last rounds to one of my residents.”
“I’m completely free,” she tells me. “Trust me, Logan. This is gonna be a breeze.”
At her reassurance, something eases in my chest, some bit of nervousness or trepidation that surged in when I realized this interview is going to be a lot different than I first expected.
“Thanks, Paige,” I say. “I really appreciate it.”
“Don’t thank me just yet,” she says, her voice holding the teasing lilt I’ve come to expect from her. “We can talk about how you can thank me once you’ve knocked this interview out of the park.”
CHAPTER8
