“Yeah, Max and I are going to hit the gym first. You should come with. I invited Evan, but he just gave me a look.”
Jackson laughed. “Yeah, I’ll come. Shoot me a text.”
Caitlin
VAR Events
Caitlin felt her phone buzz in her pocket and immediately felt a shot of fear race down her spine. Who would it be this time? Bill collectors, hospital, IRS? No not the IRS. They just sent nasty letters. Reluctantly she looked at the name on the screen.
Jackson Zane.
Caitlin took a deep breath, instantly relieved. But why was he calling instead of texting? She felt a different kind of nerves fluttering in her stomach and picked up, bracing for bad news.
“Hello?”
“Oh, thank God you answered.” He sounded as though she her voice was an answer to his prayers and that thought made her smile. “Ok, I’m really sorry to call you in the middle of a work day, but I’m having a fashion emergency.”
“I don’t know what constitutes an emergency but I will try to help.”
“Thank you,” he said fervently. “So, I was doing a thing, it’s near another thing—long story short, I told my grandmother I’d pick up the clothes she’s wearing for tonight’s event. Only I got here and something got screwed up because they don’t know which outfit she picked. I have tried to call everyone and no one is picking up and the clerk chick will be back any minute and I’m going to have to pick an outfit. Katie. I cannot pick an outfit.”
Caitlin laughed. She now understood his emergency.
“Katie, I’m serious! I need help!”
“Yes, sorry. I understand. Are there pictures? What are the choices?”
“Sending now.” His voice was clipped and tense, something she wasn’t used to from him. He was really upset. The picturespopped through and she looked at them.
“OK, so it looks like option one is black Chanel. Hard to go wrong there. And option two is…ooh, is that vintage Halston?”
“Those sound like words that were said to me, so probably.”
“Navy versus black. Hard choice. How fancy is her event?”
“It’s business formal with a bunch of judgy people. They may comment on how much she’s spending.”
“Vintage Halston then,” said Caitlin. “It’s old, and she can claim to be re-wearing it. Saves money right there. Or at least, have the appearance of saving.” And for the rich, appearances were what counted.
Jackson let out a gusty sigh of relief. “Perfect. You’re a genius. OK, I’ll let you go. I really appreciate you making time for me.”
Caitlin wanted to let him be done. He was so stressed about getting this right, but there was one little problem.
“I think you’re forgetting about shoes.”
“Oh, fucknuts.”
Caitlin couldn’t help laughing again.
“Uh…” She could hear him moving around. “It looks like we have what I would call tarnished silver, red, and ugly brown. She’s not going for the brown. Even I know that.”
“Go for the silver then,” said Caitlin. “Nothing saysbitchlike a red shoe. So you’ll want to avoid that.”
“Hmmm…” Jackson sounded like he was actually thinking and not just teasing her.
“Jackson! You can’t bring your grandma bitch shoes!”
“You don’t know my grandma. She embraces her inner bitch status and sometimes she likes to rub it in people’s faces.”