Weddings Can Be Murder by Connie Shelton Read Free Book Online Page B

gone more than an extra hour. What’s up?”
    Juliette explained about the new job and the
need for wardrobe changes.
    “So, my silly little courses in fashion
design are coming in handy now, huh?” Carol Ann teased.
    “Hey, don’t knock secretarial work either.”
Her friend’s eyes bulged when Juliette revealed her new salary.
“But what I need now are the right clothes.”
    “It’s a construction company?” Carol Ann
seemed puzzled.
    “But the boss is really successful and you
should see the way the receptionist dresses. If I’m his personal
secretary I have to look at least as good as she does.”
    “True.” Carol Ann nibbled at her lower lip,
studying the shop fronts nearby.
    “But I can’t spend much, at least right now.
How classy can you dress me on a budget?”
    Carol Ann led the way to one of the
department stores. “Once you start earning some money you can head
for the fourth floor. For now, we’re over here.” She headed deeper
into the store.
    Ninety minutes later each of them carried
two huge shopping bags. With two suits—a brown and a black—a
variety of blouses and a couple of skirts she could switch out with
the pants, plus two dynamic pairs of heels, Juliette knew she could
handle the new workplace. She got out of Carol Ann’s car in front
of her apartment and walked through the shabby courtyard to her
place. Removing her new clothes from the bags, she got a dizzying
bout of sticker shock. She’d run her new credit card up to the
limit. What would she do if the job didn’t work out?
    She decided to only take the tags off each
item as she wore it. She smoothed the store receipt and stuck it
under the lamp on her dresser. If the new boss took a dislike to
her she could at least return the unused clothes and go beg for her
old job back. The smell of the tires came back to her, unbidden.
No. The new job had to be great—she wouldn’t let it be
otherwise.
    She ate a grilled cheese sandwich for dinner
and tried to follow The Rockford Files on TV but her mind
was on a hundred other details. Saturday morning, she scrounged ten
dollars from various pants pockets and walked to the nearest
low-price salon where she had three inches trimmed from her unruly
hair. It would be an extra five bucks to have the beauty student
style it in an up-do, which wouldn’t last a whole day, so she
skipped that.
    Sunday, she did her own manicure and
practiced trying to get her hair into a sleek upswept style like
Sheila’s, but it was impossible. She settled for pinning it up and
letting the wavy tendrils go where they wanted. Maybe after a
paycheck or two she could afford to have it straightened. For now
she was counting bus fare and checking the peanut butter supply to
get her through the first week. Sheila hadn’t mentioned whether the
pay was weekly—what if she was only paid every two weeks? She
should have foregone one pair of shoes and made a grocery trip
instead. She couldn’t sleep that night.
    By six forty-five Monday morning she’d
showered and wrestled the springy hair into a semblance of a French
roll. Her lipstick from the dollar bin at Walgreen’s wasn’t a name
brand but it was a good shade to go with the vivid turquoise blouse
she’d chosen to wear with her black pantsuit today. Stepping into
the high heels, she stole a glance in the mirror and felt more
grownup and confident. She paced her tiny apartment for forty
minutes, until her feet began to ache in the new shoes, and finally
it was time to leave for the bus stop.
     
     
    What is it about the first day at a new job,
she wondered as she dragged herself to the bus that evening. The
boss hadn’t showed up—some business had come up near Ft.
Lauderdale, they said. She’d met the bookkeeper, Marion Flightly, a
churchy lady in her forties whose eagle-eyed glare made Juliette
think the woman didn’t believe such a young kid could handle the
work. Sheila had greeted her with a stack of folders and said it
was filing to be done.