“Lulu,” I reply and shake the offered hand. “I’m hoping you have a bartender position open.”
“I see.” She nods once and turns away. “Come to my office, please.”
I glance back at the receptionist, who offers me a thumbs-up and an encouraging smile—I like her—and then follow Madam Loveland through the door, where I have to blink for my eyes to adjust to the dim lighting. Sconces on the wall light the way, but they’re not bright, and the wallpaper is gray and black.
It’s …rich.The whole building feels lavish. Hell, it even smells extravagant. Like leather and whiskey, with a hint of citrus.
She leads me through yet another door, then closes it behind her and gestures for me to sit while she takes a seat behind the desk.
“Where did you hear about the position?”
“Oh.” I blink rapidly. “Honestly, I didn’t hear about an opening. I came in hoping there would be one available.”
Her eyes narrow, and I feel like I’ve done somethingwrong. Like she doesn’t believe me. “Yourandomlychose this establishment to walk into?”
“Yes.” I don’t drop my gaze. She might be the most impressive and intimidating woman I’ve ever met, but I learned a long time ago to keep my chin up in every situation.
Never let them see you sweat.
Her eyes drift down my body again, and she almost sneers.
“Where is your résumé?”
“I don’t have one on me.” I lean forward slightly. “I have experience. Show me a bar, request a drink, and I’ll make you the best fucking drink you’ve ever had. I can talk about just about anything. I’m not shy, I’m not a wallflower, and I’m also not a pushover.”
Her pink tongue pokes out to run along her bottom lip.
“But you don’t have a résumé with any references, and you walked in here looking likethat.”
I lift an eyebrow and resist the urge to look down at myself. “Like what, exactly?”
“Listen, Lisa?—”
“Lulu.”
“We cater to a very specific clientele. Elite. Wealthy. Important. They expect to be served by someone who looks … well, not like you.”
“Not like me in what way? They don’t like brunettes? Short girls? Green eyes?”
Yeah, bitch, I’m going to make you say it.
“Fat girls,” she finally replies, and although I was expecting it, it doesn’t sting any less.
But I keep my face bland.
“I see.” I nod and stand from the chair. “You could have told me that in the lobby, Madam Loveland.”
“I think that would have been rude,” she replies, making me laugh.
“Yes.Thatwould have been rude.”
I shake my head and walk out, back down the dark hallway and make it to the lobby where Scarlett’s still operating the reception desk.
“How did it go?” she asks.
“She’s not interested in fat girls,” I inform her and watch her face transform into shock. “I know, right?”
I walk out the front door, keeping my integrity around me like a shield. Once I get to the sidewalk, I take a deep breath.
