7
NEW YORK CITY
OCTOBER 17, 2014
“I’m out early today, Shannon,” I reminded my manager.
Her eyes were wide. “What? Who approved that?”
I paused, fear spiking through me. It always did that at Elizabeth Cunningham. It didn’t matter if I’d gotten the time off approval ages ago. Working in high fashion was as terrifying as The Devil Wears Prada made it out to be and sometimes worse. The adrenaline hit when I had to eat lunch and it was something other than a salad or getting coffee and it wasn’t skinny. The pressure was intense. Taking time off was worse.
“You … you did,” I reminded her. I pulled up our shared app and showed it to her. “See, I have a half-day today and Monday off.”
“How are you going to make up this time?” Shannon asked.
“I can stay late the rest of the week. My broth
