Confident Women (Extract)

Chapter Three

So, since the first point on Olivia Bright’s list didn’t exactly go to plan, I’ve decided I’m going to spend my morning at work the next day thinking hard on the second one.

What is it again? Oh yes. Volunteering to find my dream job.

Trouble is, I have absolutely no idea what my dream job is.

When I was little, I wanted to be a vet. Until I realised that I actually hate dogs. There’s no way that I could stand all that yapping and having to wash their disgusting, matted fur. At least cats clean themselves. Although I’m not a big fan of cats, either.

Okay. What else is there? What skills do I have? I got a B in GCSE drama when I was at school. But I don’t suppose there are many volunteer acting jobs going. Not the glamorous film set type, anyway, where you get to meet Brad and Angelina.

Then there’s always the course I did in fashion design. The only problem is I was completely useless at operating a sewing machine.

Oh God. I’m going to work in HR admin forever, aren’t I? And Nora will still be my boss when she’s ninety-two and getting around the office with a Zimmer frame.

I’m in need of a bit of retail therapy by lunchtime, so I head straight to the handbag section in New Look. While I’m standing, mesmerised by the beautiful beading on the new range of clutch bags, I remember that they sell underwear here. And it’s a reasonably upmarket place, isn’t it?

Finding a light blue set in my size, I grab it and one of the silver bags that would be perfect for a wedding—if I was going to a wedding, that is—and head for the checkout.

As the young girl behind the till scans my items, I spot a notice pinned to the counter advertising for the position of store manager. Well, I’m not sure I’m managerial material, but fashion retail is definitely something that interests me.

I picture myself in a different pair of New Look heels every day, snapping up the gorgeous clothes before anyone else gets a chance. That sounds like something I could be good at.

“Do you take on volunteers here?” I ask the girl as she hands me my change.

She gives me a blank look in response. “Volunteers?”

“Yeah, I’ve been thinking about a career in retail for a while now,” I lie.

“If you want a job, you’ll need to get an application pack from customer service. If you want, I can call Sally over for you?”

I stare at the growing line of impatient customers behind me. “No, that’s okay. Thanks, though.”

Back at the office, Scarlett jumps on my New Look bag like a child unwrapping a present on Christmas morning, calling out, “You didn’t tell me you were going shopping! What did you buy?”

The shopping bag is out of my hands before I can answer her.

“This is lovely.” She examines my new clutch bag, her fingers trailing along the beading. “Are you going somewhere special?” She dives back into the plastic bag and pulls out the blue underwear set. “Oh.” Her brown eyes widen. “I get it. You’re going on a date!”

“No!” I shout back with a snort of dismissive laughter. “What gave you that idea?”

“Are you telling me you’re going to be using this tiny bag for the office now?” She holds the bag by its thin strap and cocks her head to one side as she looks at me.

“No. But that doesn’t mean I’m going on a date,” I point out.

Scarlett sucks in a sharp breath. “You don’t buy underwear like this if you don’t want someone to see it. So who is it, then?” Her eyes dart around our office as though this “date” she’s dreamt up for me is hiding under my desk.