Read Online Working It by Leah Marie Brown - Free Book Online Page A

voice suddenly wavers. “They asked me to become a community outreach something-or-other in Sitka, Alaska and I agreed.”
    “What does that even mean? What does a community outreach something-or-other do?”
    “I will be empowering Sitka’s poorest citizens to reach their full potential through vocational training and life mentoring,” I say, parroting Rachel. “I will teach them about fashion design and sewing.”
    “So no catching king crab?”
    “No.”
    “That is freaking awesome, Fanny!” Vivian cries. “I am so proud of you.”
    “You are?”
    “Yes!”
    “Why?”
    “Because you bounced, girl. You bounced in a big way.”
    “What does that even mean?”
    “It means you could have let your termination deflate your spirit, but you didn’t. You bounced. You set aside your pain and found a worthier purpose than hocking pricey purses.” Vivian draws in a deep breath. “Do you realize what you have done? You have slipped the shackles of your materialistic life by agreeing to exchange your luxury apartment, designer wardrobe, posh city life, for an über-humble existence helping others. That is so on fleek.”
    Panic seizes me like a bride clutching a gown at a Vera Wang sample sale. “Ohmygod! What have I done?” I gasp. “I can’t go to Alaska. What will I wear? Armani suits and Louboutins?”
    “You will just have to go shopping for a new wardrobe.”
    “Where? Cabela’s?”
    “Hang on.” I can hear Vivian tapping on her keyboard, and I know she is probably googling Alaskan Attire. “No worries. There are six clothing stores in Sitka.”
    “Please tell me one of those stores is Stefan Kaelin Luxury Ski Wear.”
    “Nope,” Vivian laughs. “No Stefan Kaelin, but you do have your choice of fine attire from Fur Sure, Sitka Outfitters, Make Knit Work, Barren Land Surplus, Alaskan Bush Company, and One-Eyed Jack.”
    “I am not buying clothes from someone named One-Eyed Jack.”
    “Don’t be a hater,” Vivian admonishes. “One-Eyed Jack could be an inspired designer.”
    “I doubt it.”
    “You never know. Look at Karl Lagerfeld.”
    “What about him?”
    “He’s a big designer, and he’s blind.”
    “Karl Lagerfeld is not blind.”
    “Really?”
    “Really.”
    “Then why does he wear dark sunglasses all of the time?”
    “It’s his fashion statement.”
    “Get out,” Vivian cries. “Who does that? Nobody wears Ray Charles sunglasses day and night unless they’re high or blind.”
    “Roy Orbison wore them.”
    “Roy suffered from crippling stage fright. His glasses helped him cope. It’s not the same, at all.”
    I laugh and shake my head. This is classic Vivian. Frequently random and off-topic. Lost in her own stream of consciousness. She is perpetually, irrepressibly upbeat, and she can find the humor in any situation. I love that about her.
    “You’re going to be okay, Fanny,” Vivian whispers. “I promise.”
    Emotion clogs my throat. I wish I had my best friend’s optimism, but I am terrified that I am about to prove my father’s dire predictions right by becoming an embarrassing failure. Unrealized potential. That’s what he said after I told him I planned on pursuing a career in fashion. Fanny, my dear, you are a tragic example of unrealized potential. You’ve been afforded the benefit of a superior lineage and an exclusive education, and this is what you do with it, become a bourgeois merchant of frocks?
    “I wish I had some of your optimism, Vivian.”
    “Ain’t nothing but a thing, girl,” Vivian says. “I have enough optimism for both of us. When you feel the negativity closing in, just call me. I gotcher six.”
    A bubble of laughter pushes past the thick emotion clogging my throat.
    “ En Anglais, s’il vous plait .”
    “I told you.” Vivian sighs. “I gotcher six means I have your back. I am protecting your most vulnerable spots.”
    “Thank you, Vivian.”
    “Do you want me to join you in Alaska? I have Kayak open right now. A couple of