Chapter Eight
“Disaster alert!” Sarah says, running into the kitchen on Monday morning. “Melanie somehow managed to double-book for this Saturday, so now she’s cancelling on me.”
“Wait, who’s Melanie?” I ask, looking up from my iPad where I’ve just registered on yet another website that links creative professionals with potential clients. Next step: uploading all my finished projects to the portfolio section of the website.
“The hair and makeup lady. Sonya from work? It’s her sister.” Sarah places her hands on her hips and starts pacing. “I mean … this isn’t a huge disaster, right? We can find someone else. With less than a week to go. Right?” I can tell she’s trying her best to sound rational and positive, but her voice is higher than normal, and panic is evident in her eyes.
Julia, t
