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Lauren Weisberger 5-Book Collection: The Devil Wears Prada, Revenge Wears Prada, Everyone Worth Knowing, Chasing Harry Winston, Last Night at Chateau Marmont
Lauren Weisberger 5-Book Collection: The Devil Wears Prada, Revenge Wears Prada, Everyone Worth Knowing, Chasing Harry Winston, Last Night at Chateau Marmont

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Lauren Weisberger 5-Book Collection: The Devil Wears Prada, Revenge Wears Prada, Everyone Worth Knowing, Chasing Harry Winston, Last Night at Chateau Marmont

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Язык: Английский
Год издания: 2018
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‘It says here that you studied at Brown?’

‘Yes, I, uh, I was an English major, concentrating on creative writing. Writing has always been a passion.’ So cheesy! I reprimanded myself. Did I really have to use the word ‘passion’?

‘So, does your affinity for writing mean that you’re not particularly interested in fashion?’ She took a sip of sparkling liquid from a glass and set it down quietly. One quick glance at the glass showed that she was the kind of woman who could drink without leaving one of those disgusting lipstick marks. She would always have perfectly lined and filled-in lips regardless of the hour.

‘Oh no, of course not. I adore fashion,’ I lied rather smoothly. ‘I’m looking forward to learning even more about it, since I think it would be wonderful to write about fashion one day.’ Where the hell had I come up with that one? This was becoming an out-of-body experience.

Things progressed with the same relative ease until she asked her final question: Which magazines did I read regularly? I leaned forward eagerly and began to speak: ‘Well, I only subscribe to The New Yorker and Newsweek, but I regularly read The Buzz. Sometimes Time, but it’s dry, and U.S. News is way too conservative. Of course, as a guilty pleasure, I’ll skim Chic, and since I just returned from traveling, I read all of the travel magazines and …’

‘And do you read Runway, Ahn-dre-ah?’ she interrupted, leaning over the desk and peering at me even more intently than before.

It had come so quickly, so unexpectedly, that for the first time that day I was caught off-guard. I didn’t lie, and I didn’t elaborate or even attempt to explain.

‘No.’

After perhaps ten seconds of stony silence, she beckoned for Emily to escort me out. I knew I had the job.

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