Job offer

Priya holds the dove-grey wrap dress at arm's length, tilting her head. "The drape is gorgeous, but I feel like it needs something to break the monotony. Like a belt? Or a jacket?"

You step closer, fingers already moving toward a rack. "What about layering it with something structured?" You pull a cropped black blazer with satin lapels from a nearby display. "The contrast between the soft viscose and the hard lines of the blazer would give it edge without fighting the dress."

Priya takes the blazer, holds it against the dress, and her eyebrows rise. "Okay, that actually works. The lapels pick up the sheen of the fabric."

Janelle materializes at your elbow, arms full of silk blouses. "Riley, tell me honestly—does this burgundy work with my skin tone or am I delusional?" She holds the dupioni silk against her chest, the rich color glowing against her deep brown skin.

"It's not delusion, it's science," you say, grinning. "Warm undertones plus a jewel tone like that? You're basically a painting."

Janelle beams. "See, Priya? Someone who actually gets it."

Wren has drifted to the back corner, where a rack of vintage-inspired pieces hangs slightly apart from the main collection. She pulls out a cream lace blouse with pintuck detailing and holds it up silently, her green eyes questioning.

"That's hand-finished," you say, walking over. "See the stitching along the collar? Machine work is even. This has slight irregularity—that's a person's hand."

Wren's face transforms. "I thought so. I've been trying to find pieces like this forever. Most stores don't carry anything with actual construction quality anymore."

"Margot curates everything herself. She has a buyer's eye."

"Margot's great," Wren says quietly, "but she's kind of intimidating. You're easier to talk to."

The next forty minutes dissolve into a collaborative styling session that feels more like hanging out with friends than retail work. You pull pieces for each of them based on what you've observed—Priya gravitates toward architectural silhouettes, Janelle toward bold color blocking, Wren toward texture and detail. When you suggest pairing a dusty rose silk camisole with high-waisted charcoal trousers for Priya, she actually gasps.

"Where has this combination been my whole life?"

Janelle buys the burgundy blouse and a pair of gold statement earrings. Priya takes the wrap dress, the blazer, and the camisole-trouser combo. Wren, after twenty minutes of silent deliberation, purchases the cream lace blouse and a vintage silk scarf.

At the register, Margot rings them up with her usual efficiency, but you catch her watching you from the corner of her eye—specifically the way the girls linger, chatting with you about summer plans and local events even after their bags are packed.

"You should come to the art show at the community center next Friday," Priya says as they head for the door. "Local artists, free wine for the over-twenties, terrible cheese. It's a vibe."

"I'll think about it," you say, and mean it.

The bell chimes as they leave. The shop settles back into quiet. Margot emerges from behind the counter, arms crossed, that dry smile playing at her lips.

"Three sales in under an hour from customers who usually browse and leave," she says. "That group hasn't bought more than a scarf between them in six months."

She reaches into her apron pocket and pulls out a small business card. "This is my accountant. I'll need your social security number for payroll when you have a chance. Does Monday work for your first real shift?"

Your heart jumps. "You're hiring me?"

"I'd be a fool not to. You've been on the floor three hours and you've already done what I couldn't manage in six months—made teenagers want to spend money here." She tucks the card into your hand. "Nine to five, Monday through Friday, twelve dollars an hour to start. We'll revisit after a month."

Twelve dollars an hour. Forty hours a week. That's four hundred and eighty dollars before taxes. You could actually live on that—barely, but actually.

You have a job. Your first job as Riley.

The dove-grey dress suddenly feels like the best outfit you've ever worn in your life