Another interview, another outfit crisis. Bella Boltan stared at her reflection in the mirror and tried to see what her potential employer would. Certain that this was the one, the job and that would make her career, she needed to pitch it absolutely perfectly. Asides from her poor fragile ego not being able to take much more rejection, Bella was convinced that her life would change unequivocally if she got it. She was gasping for a coffee, but didn’t want to come across a jibbering wreck. She’d made that schoolgirl error in the past and would not be making it again today.
Bella wanted it so badly, it was a proper job. Unlike her previous one where she was shoved in an office with no natural daylight, and left to get on with work she didn’t even understand. That wasn’t nearly as bad as her first job though. ‘Leachy Luke’ her old manager should be put away for what he did to her. Bella remembered being uncomfortably aware at the time that she was going caught between a rock and hard place though. Needing to work to pay the bills, she had to keep him sweet as it were. She wasn’t the only one, but that didn’t make it okay. She felt sick even thinking about it, and promptly turned her attention back to the task at hand.
Should she go super smart in her gorgeous Karen Millen suit (thank goodness for charity shops!) or play it down a little with a trendy boho ensemble? She pulled out a mountain of clothes and started sorting them into outfits on her bed, posing in the mirror. Just as she felt the panic rise to her cheeks, and the beginning of a hissy fit coming on, because she had nothing to wear, she spotted it. Out of the corner of her eye she saw her favourite shift dress, the old faithful. She held it up against her bare body and smiled. It was exactly what she was looking for – classy but not too formal. She had worn it the night she met him. Bella allowed herself a little shudder, and a quick flashback to some of the glorious memories.
It was as if the universe were trying to tell her something, and Bella just knew that she must wear it. She matched it with a pair of sheer tights, a gorgeous fitted blazer, and her five inch Louboutins. She looked good, and she felt amazing, this killer outfit was bang on the money. Glancing over her shoulder at the clock on her bedside table, she realised she needed to get her skates on. A killer outfit was all very well and good, but it would be rendered completely moot if she ended up being late.
Roughly two hours after rushing out the front door, Bella was sitting in Pret, savouring her first coffee of the day. She recounted the events of the last hour in her head, and was confident that she was in with a decent chance. She’d sailed through the very first stage with HR, and got on really well with Mike, the chap she would be working with. He had certainly given her the impression that he’d be putting her forward to meet with his boss, and she could definitely see herself working with him. Yes she thought, that went very well indeed.
Once again, the anticipation was much worse than the event itself. She crossed her fingers, sat back, and enjoyed the rest of her coffee.