Working It by Leah Marie Brown Read Free Book Online Page B

iPhone. I don’t recognize the caller.
    “Hello?”
    “Hello, is this Ms. Moreau?” asks the female voice.
    “Yes.”
    “Ms. Stéphanie Moreau?”
    “Yes. Who is this?”
    “Thank goodness.” She sighs. “This is Rachel Mills, Vice President of International Development with Each One, Teach One. I have had quite a time finding you. You must have entered the wrong number on your application, because it was a non-functioning line. I had to call L’Heure to get this number.”
    Merde! I completely forgot about filling out Each One, Teach One’s volunteer application. As if getting fired wasn’t bad enough, now I have to rescind L’Heure’s offer to help a worthy charity. Maybe a generous donation will smooth things over.
    “You called L’Heure?”
    “Yes, I spoke with your assistant, and he gave me this number.”
    Ouch. Being reminded I no longer have an assistant feels like a hatpin to the heart.
    “How may I help you Ms. Mills?”
    “Rachel, please. We operate on a first name only basis at TTF.”
    “How may I help you, Rachel?”
    “I was hoping you might be available this afternoon to discuss an exciting opportunity with our organization.”
    In the last seventy-two hours, I have been catfished, fired from my dream job, ridiculed by bloggers, and abandoned by my father. A painful series of pride-swallowing events. And now I get to take one more gulp. Salut, Stéphanie!
    “I am terribly sorry, Ms. Mills, but I am afraid L’Heure won’t be able to participate in your worthy program.” I consider pretending we have a bad connection and disconnecting, but a woman working for a charity deserves better than a flimsy brush off. “The thing is…I didn’t have the authority to commit L’Heure’s resources, and now, I don’t even…”
    My throat closes when I try to say the words “work for L’Heure anymore.”
    “I believe we might still be able to help each other, Ms. Moreau,” she says in a soft, reassuring voice. “Would you be available to meet with us this afternoon?”
    “Us?”
    “Finn Thompson, the Founder and President of Each One, Teach One, will be joining us. How does three sound?”
    I can’t imagine why the president of a non-profit organization wants to meet me, the Immaterial Girl. There’s little I can bring to his conference table.
    “Are you sure you have the right person? Did you mean to call Stéphanie Moreau, French-born, graduate of Fashion Institute of Design and Merchandising?”
    “Yes.” She chuckles softly. “Shall I put you down for three, then?”
    This girl is determined.
    “Rachel, something tells me your talents are being wasted working for a non-profit. You should get into sales. You’d make a fortune in commissions.”
    “Thanks,” she says, chuckling again. “I will text you our address. See you at three.”
    “Yes, three.”
    “See you soon.”
    “Bye.”
    I have barely disconnected when my iPhone chimes and Rachel’s text pops up on my screen. I stare at the address, a skyscraper in the Financial District, and wonder what one wears to meet the VP of a non-profit. Something tells me I will look a bit out of place in my Armani suits. Maybe a trip to Walmart is in order. I wonder if Dickies makes power suits?
     

Chapter 10
    Something Smells Fishy
     
    Text from Vivian Perpetua Grant:
    Did you know Jimmy Choo’s business partner wanted to take the company global, but Jimmy wanted to focus on quality and knew mass producing his product would sacrifice quality? Jimmy stuck to his principles, selling his half of the business to a huge conglomerate. Today, he makes shoes in his original London shop and teaches apprentices. Now that’s a purpose beyond profit.
     
    An organization like Each One, Teach One should be located in one of the converted warehouses that have transformed the Mission District from rundown ghetto to mod ’hood for the eco set, but it’s not. Each One, Teach One is located in a sleek chrome and glass high rise on the