Chapter 8

I can’t believe I’m actually in the City, Caroline thought as she looked around the restaurant. And not just as a tourist. I’m actually a New Yorker. Not that I look like one yet. I need significantly more black clothes. What’s 0 to the power of a full closet?
“Well, it’s nice to see you smile,” said her brunch companion. “You were so sad when you got here, I wasn’t sure it was even you.”
“Thanks, I think,” Caroline answered. “And really, Caitlin, thank so much for letting me stay with you until I can get my own place. And a job to pay for it.”
“Hey, mi couch es su couch, plus it’s nice to have the company. How is the job hunt going anyway? Have you heard from anywhere yet?”
“Not yet,” Caroline sighed, “but between answering the ads for roommates and sending in my resume, I’ve got to get a call about something soon.”
“Let’s not even worry about that right now. Today we only worry about what to eat and where to shop and when to nap. And right now, I want to eat poached egg. Oh, and you have to get a bagel; they do the cutest thing here.”
Two hours later, satiated by the extra thinly sliced bagel, the homemade gingerale, the eggs benedict, the coffee with heavy cream, Caroline stumbled back into the street while Caitlin chattered on about their next stop.
Mmmm, that was good. But wow, the bill. I can’t believe that gingerale was ten dollars. I know Caitlin doesn’t mind, but I think I need to stick to diners and such until I’m working again; she can’t pay for everything and give me a place to live too.
“Earth to Caroline,” Caitlin said laughing, “let’s stop in here a minute?”
Caroline looked up to read the sign: Forbidden Planet. Cool, I can see if there’s anything new I need. Oh, wait, no shopping until I have a job. She stepped into the store. Holy cat! This place is huge! Xander would love… She froze. No. Not going there. But it was too late. She remembered one of the last evenings they’d spent together…They had stopped by the comic book store on the way home from dinner and spent the rest of the evening in companionable silence, passing books back and forth, until at last Xander had tossed the last one across the room and rolled on top of her… “Hey, Caitlin? I’ll be outside.” I’m not going to cry, damn it. I’m done crying. He’s a snake and I’m better off without him. “But you love him,” whispered her heart traitorously, “maybe you should’ve listened to what he had to say before running away.” None of that. If he loved me, he wouldn’t’ve lied to me. “But he didn’t lie, did he?” asked the small voice. Yes, he did. At least it felt like he did. Caroline shoved those thoughts away. It doesn’t matter any more anyway. I’m here and I’m starting a new life, and it’s going to be fabulous. I’m going to be fabulous.

Hours later, Caroline lay in a hot bath, covered in bubbles. Slowly she stretched one leg out of the water, flexing her foot. I could stay in here forever, she thought. Just stay in the bubbles and not worry about getting a job or what I’m doing here. I could even sleep here—I think we walked a marathon today just going from one store to another. Tomorrow I need to be more organized. Note to self: must come up with life plan before breakfast.

Crap, she thought the next morning, eating toast and jam in the breakfast nook, I was supposed to make a plan. Ok, step one, find job; step two, get place to live; step three, need new clothes; step four, new friends; step five, lose fifty pounds… She looked at her buttered and jammed bread. Good thing that’s not till step five.
A voice from the hall interrupted her plans. “Caroline! Caroline, guess what?” called Caitlin running in the door. Before she could answer, Caitlin kept talking, “Remember my old roommate, Elizabeth Dornetto, from sophomore year? We email randomly and it turns out she’s now an editor for Vain.”
“That’s pretty cool,” Caroline said, “does she like it? I’ve heard that’s a pretty rough place to work.”
“Who cares if she likes it? We know her and she’s an editor! What do you want to do?”
“Um, work for a publishing house.”
“Magazines, books, whatever. An editor is an editor.”
“Actually…”
“Look, I already set you up an interview, so you’d better go try on your interview outfit. Can’t show up at Vain looking shlumpy.”
Before Caroline could object further or say what she thought about the highhandedness of some people, she remembered that it was Caitlin’s apartment she was staying and Caitlin’s money that had paid for lunch. She swallowed her indignation and headed for her suitcases.
“Ok, how’s this?” She twirled in the doorway of the bedroom.
“Not bad, but you need better shoes. They look a little too, well, Payless.”

Thank god she told me to get different shoes, Caroline thought, as she stood in the lobby of the Vain mothership, and I’m glad I brought my black interview suit and not the one with the flowers. Cause I’m nervous enough and, she looked around the marble lobby, I don’t think anyone here owns anything floral. Or is over ninety pounds.

After a few more minutes of waiting, Caroline saw a gorgeous red-head get off the elevator and glance around the room, and then motion to her. “Ah, you must be Caroline. Come on up to my office and we can chat for a bit.”

Bang! The apartment door hit the wall as Caroline threw herself inside. “Caitie! Where are you? Come on, we have to go celebrate!”
“Whoa,” Caitlin replied as she poked her head out of the kitchen, “slow down, what’s happened? I take it your interview went well?”
“You’re talking to the new assistant editor at Vain Magazine! I start on Monday. I had no idea she would give me the job right there; I was just hoping she’d give me some pointers on breaking into the industry. But when we finished talking, she told me she liked me and asked if I wanted to start next week!”
“I’m so happy for you! Let me grab my purse and we’ll go drink some champagne in your honor.”

Caroline groaned when the alarm went off at six Monday morning. Maybe we celebrated a bit too much, she admitted to herself, as her head pounded. One night of champagne might have been enough. Ok, I can do this. Out of bed, into the shower, off to the first day of work. Why does it feel like the first day of school? Like I’m the new kid and everybody’s going to make fun of my thrift store clothes. And my size 12 ass. She smiled. Not that anyone’s complained so far.