Juliet decided to be honest because the youths—Gen Z, if that was what Elektra was—liked honesty. At least, that was what she’d read online.
“I tried once,” Juliet said. “That was my dream. Just like it’s your dream. And doesn’t everyone in fashion want to have their own house?”
Elektra raised her eyebrows. “You started one? What happened?”
Juliet stuttered, suddenly nervous. She realized that Elektra now looked at her as though she were damaged goods, broken after a lifetime of use. “Many things happened. For one, I was working for my previous employer at the time. We had a great deal of work to do, with extensive travel, and it took up much of my time. Too much to really focus on my own brand. Because—as you know from my portfolio—I work very hard. I throw everything into what my client or employer needs.”
Elektra sucked in her lower lip. “You gave up on yourself.”
Juliet’s heartbeat fluttered in her neck. She suddenly felt as though interviews were different from what they were before she’d gotten her last job. It felt as though Elektra wanted Juliet to be an entirely different person, one who’d had money from an early age and hadn’t had to build herself up.
She wanted someone exactly like her, but older. Maybe she wanted someone older to make her look younger, bolder, and more beautiful. Juliet swallowed her distaste and tried to smile.
She could still get through this interview. She had to.
“I came to the city with nothing,” Juliet said delicately. “I went to fashion school, but I had to work many, many odd jobs to get me through. I did some modeling, of course. But that dried up, just as it does for so many.”
Elektra looked at her quizzically. It made Juliet realize that Elektra was still too young to know she would ever grow old, and that one day people wouldn’t want her the same way.
“I mean, I don’t have the same following as you,” Juliet hurried to add. “You’ve been hustling since you were a kid, basically. I can’t imagine.”
Elektra relaxed the slightest bit. “Yes, well. I knew what I wanted. I was just a kid, going to boarding school, trying to figure out what I wanted to do with my life. It’s not that everything fell in my lap. I worked hard to build my empire!” She extended her arms on either side.
But Juliet knew that Elektra had always had money to fall back on. She’d always had a parachute, ready to open and pull her back from the drop below. It was a parachute called familial wealth.
By contrast, Juliet had never had such a parachute. She’d always had just enough to get by. And then she’d married a handsome, successful lawyer and given birth to Danica. She’d thought she had everything she needed, that she’d be supported for the rest of her days and her career would continue.
Elektra batted her eyelashes. “I think we’re done.”
Juliet knew at that moment that she hadn’t gotten the job. She knew that Elektra thought she was too old and too pathetic to work with, that she wouldn’t strengthen Elektra’s brand. But Juliet wasn’t willing to go down without a fight.
She couldn’t stop herself.
“You don’t know this, but it will all fall apart for you, too,” Juliet shot.
Elektra’s sweet disposition snapped to reveal an angry creature just beneath. Elektra was on her feet, pressing a button, maybe for security. “Don’t say anything you’re going to regret, Miss Larker.”
“It’s Harper,” Juliet shot back. “Juliet Harper.”
“Whatever.” Elektra gaped at her. “You’re angry with me because I’m beautiful and I’m talented and I have everything that you wanted for yourself but couldn’t manage to get. Boo-hoo.”
Juliet couldn’t stop shaking. Before finding the right words, she felt a hand at her elbow, guiding her out of the room and toward the elevator. Before she knew it, she was outside the high-rise, gasping for breath. Had that really happened? Could she go back and do it again? Could she fix the mess she’d made of her life?
It was impossible to say what led Juliet from Elektra’s office building to her old neighborhood. Maybe it was sheer muscle memory that took her from the Upper East to the Upper West Side, the iconic, luxurious area where she and Alvin had decided to raise their beautiful baby girl, Danica. They’d wanted her to know the very best people. They’d wanted to set her up for success.
More than that, Juliet knew they’d wanted to be regarded as the upper-echelon of Manhattan society. They’d wanted to get reservations at the “correct” restaurants to be seen at on a Friday or Saturday night. They’d wanted to shop at the right places and wear the finest clothes. Only a few times through the years did Juliet pause and wonder if this was an empty way to live. But whenever she got around to answering said question, there was always another cocktail hour to attend or another fashion shoot to organize.
Just like that, years of her life had drifted away.
Juliet wandered the streets she’d once known, telling herself that she still belonged and, at the same time, praying that she wouldn’t run into anyone that she’d once known. Probably, the friends she’d had up here had already adopted Alvin’s girlfriend Maggie into the fold. (This did not mean that they didn’t talk badly about Maggie behind her back, because they most certainly did.)
She walked past the playground where Danica had once scabbed her knee and Gwyneth Paltrow, of all people, had offered a Band-Aid. She walked past the CVS where Juliet had once fainted midway through a terrible diet plan that she’d needed in the lead-up to the Met Gala. She walked past countless restaurants and bars, where she and Alvin had dined and laughed and kissed. She walked and walked and walked, doing circles around places she’d always loved.
And then, she spotted Alvin and Maggie, across the street, eating ice cream cones.
Juliet’s pulse quickened in her throat. At first, she thought maybe she had it wrong, that she was just imagining them. After all, shouldn’t they be at work at two thirty on a weekday? But when she blinked, they came into better focus. Maggie was licking a strawberry ice cream, something childish and pink, while Alvin had his pistachio, which he’d always ordered, ever since Juliet had first met him. Juliet couldn’t remember the last time she’d gotten ice cream with Alvin. For some reason, this fact alone floored her. She wanted to throw herself to the ground and weep.
She needed to get out of there. But the street was crowded, and it was difficult to pick her way to the corner, where she could duck out of sight. When she glanced back at Alvin and Maggie, they were looking at her, their eyes enormous. Maggie did not look pleased. But Alvin? He looked amused, as though this were a show made especially for him.
