Patricia Kay – Holiday by Design (страница 9)
“Oh, come on, Joanna. I thought we were past all that.”
Joanna sighed. “Chick, this is not about you and me. It’s about me finally getting the chance to do what I’ve always wanted to do.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I’m going to be a full-time fashion designer from now on.”
“And you think you can support yourself doing that?”
Joanna had always known he didn’t take her aspirations seriously, and his attitude this morning proved it. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be just fine.” Earlier this morning she wasn’t sure if she would tell him about her upcoming show or not. Now she decided he didn’t deserve to know. Let him be shocked when he read about it in the paper or saw it covered on the local news. “Do you want me to call the employment agency or do you want to do it?”
He stared at her. “You’re really quitting.”
She nodded. “Afraid so.”
“Fine,” he sputtered, “but you can forget about this two-weeks bull. You can’t leave until we can find someone else and you can get her trained, no matter how long it takes.”
“I’m sorry, Chick, but that’s not the way it works. Two weeks’ notice is all I’m required to give you.” She almost felt sorry for him. But not sorry enough to give him any more of her precious time than she absolutely had to. After all, it wasn’t as if she needed a reference. She had no intention of ever working at anything but designing clothes again. Besides, knowing him, he would drag his feet forever without a reason not to.
“But that may not be enough time.” Now he sounded panicky. “What if I can’t find someone right away?”
“In that case, I guess you’ll just have to use a temp.”
“A temp? Are you crazy?”
Now it was her turn to stare at him.
Finally he said, “Okay. Okay. Call the agency. And be sure to tell them it’s urgent. Christ, this is the worst possible time of year for you to do this to me.”
Ignoring his grumbling, she said, “What shall I tell the agency about salary?”
He named a figure a good ten percent higher than he was currently paying her. She figured he did it just to piss her off. But she decided not to give him the satisfaction. “I’ll call them right now.”
Half an hour later, she was in the midst of relaying to Chick what the agency had had to say when her cell phone rang. Seeing Barlow International on the caller ID, she said, “Excuse me, Chick. I have to take this call.”
“Miss Spinelli?” the caller said. “This is Judith Holmes. I’m Mr. Barlow’s assistant. He asked me to tell you he has your contract ready and wondered if you could meet him at the gallery sometime this afternoon.”
“The only time I could come would be after work. But I quit at four on Fridays, so I could be there by five o’clock.” The gallery stayed open until six on weeknights.
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