Back in their familiar, slightly cramped apartment, the atmosphere was a mix of nervous energy and determined support. Ellie rummaged through Louisa's small closet, pulling out a few of her more presentable tops. Scarlett sat on the edge of the bed, flipping through a magazine but occasionally offering advice.
"Okay, so definitely not the band tee," Ellie declared, holding up a faded black shirt.
"Maybe this button-down? It's a little big, but it looks professional-ish." Louisa chewed on her lip, staring at her reflection in the cracked mirror.
"Professional-ish is probably the best I can do." Her usual wardrobe consisted mainly of comfortable, practical clothes, not attire suitable for a fancy diner in Hudson Yards.
"We can make it work," Scarlett said, tossing the magazine aside. "Tuck it in, maybe borrow one of my belts? And definitely wear those dark jeans – the ones without the holes."
They worked together, piecing together an outfit that looked presentable and didn't feel completely alien to Louisa. Ellie even managed to find a pair of her own sensible flats that were a size too big but better than Louisa's worn sneakers.
"Okay, now for the hard part: talking," Scarlett said, striking a mock-interview pose. "Why do you want to work at 'The Gilded Spoon'?"
Louisa stumbled over her words. "Uh… I need a job? And… I'm a hard worker?"
Ellie winced. "Okay, we need to work on that. Maybe something like, 'I'm eager to learn and I'm committed to providing excellent customer service.'"
They spent the next hour practicing potential interview questions. Scarlett played the role of a stern, demanding manager, while Ellie offered encouragement and helped Louisa articulate her skills and enthusiasm, even if her experience was limited.
"Remember to smile, Lou," Ellie reminded her gently. "And make eye contact. Even if you're nervous, try to look confident."
Scarlett added, "And if they ask why you want to work there specifically, maybe mention that you've heard good things about the diner and you're excited about the opportunity to work in such a vibrant neighborhood."
As the time for her interview approached, Louisa felt a nervous flutter in her stomach, but also a sense of gratitude for her friends' unwavering support.
They might not understand the complexities of her interactions with Jayden, but they were fiercely loyal and always there for her when she needed them.
Armed with a slightly-too-big button-down, borrowed flats, and a few practiced phrases, Louisa felt a sliver of hope. This job wasn't just about the money; it was about taking a step forward, on her own terms.
....
The bus ride to Hudson Yards felt like a journey to another planet. The familiar streets of the Lower East Side, with their bustling energy and faded charm, gave way to gleaming skyscrapers and meticulously manicured plazas. Louisa clutched her worn tote bag, her borrowed flats feeling alien on her feet.
The Gilded Spoon diner was even more opulent than she had imagined. Crystal chandeliers hung from the high ceilings, plush velvet banquettes lined the walls, and the air hummed with the low murmur of well-dressed patrons.
She felt a pang of intimidation as she stepped inside, her carefully chosen outfit suddenly feeling inadequate.
A hostess with perfectly coiffed hair and an air of practiced indifference directed her to wait by the bar. Louisa perched on the edge of a stool, her eyes wide as she took in the scene.
Waiters in crisp white shirts and black aprons glided through the room, balancing trays laden with what looked like miniature works of art.
The clientele were equally polished, their conversations punctuated by the clinking of silverware and the soft murmur of polite laughter.
A woman with a sharp, efficient air and a tablet in her hand approached her. "Louisa?" she asked, her tone brisk. "I'm Ms. Albright, the manager. Follow me."
The interview took place in a small, surprisingly cluttered office at the back of the diner. Ms. Albright didn't waste any time. She asked direct questions about Louisa's (limited) experience, her availability, and her work ethic.
Louisa, remembering Scarlett and Ellie's coaching, tried her best to project enthusiasm and a willingness to learn.
"Why do you want to work at The Gilded Spoon?" Ms. Albright asked, her eyes scanning Louisa's resume.
"I'm eager to learn about the hospitality industry, and I've heard excellent things about the service and the atmosphere here,"
Louisa replied, trying to sound confident. "I'm a quick learner and I'm committed to providing excellent customer service."
Ms. Albright raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. "This is a demanding environment. Our clientele expects a certain level of polish and efficiency. Can you handle that?"
Louisa nodded firmly. "Yes, ma'am. I'm a hard worker and I'm determined to meet your expectations."
The interview continued in this vein for another twenty minutes. Ms. Albright asked about her ability to handle stress, her problem-solving skills, and her availability on weekends.
Louisa answered as honestly and confidently as she could, her nerves slowly giving way to a sense of determination.
Finally, Ms. Albright put down her tablet. "Alright, Louisa. We have a few more candidates to see. We'll be in touch by the end of the week." Her tone offered no indication of her decision.
Louisa thanked her and walked back out into the bustling diner, her heart pounding with a mixture of anxiety and a fragile hope. She had done her best. Now, all she could do was wait.
The opulent surroundings of The Gilded Spoon felt both intimidating and strangely exciting. A part of her, the part that had glimpsed Jayden's world, wondered what it would be like to navigate this different kind of reality every day.
But more than that, she hoped she had earned the chance to earn her own way, far away from the confusing orbit of Jayden King Walton.
*****
The days crawled by, each one feeling heavier than the last. Jayden moved through the familiar routines of Charterhouse with a simmering undercurrent of resentment. His father had returned from Italy unexpectedly, and the man's presence was like a tightening knot in Jayden's chest.
Demands about his future, veiled criticisms of his present, and the constant pressure to conform to his father's rigid expectations had Jayden on edge.
He hadn't been himself, his usual easygoing charm replaced by a volatile irritability that he struggled to contain.
His anger on Friday hadn't been solely directed at her, though he knew his abrupt departure had likely made her the target of it.
He kept seeing Louisa around school with her two besties. They hadn't actually talked since the beach, just those super intense stare-downs. Jayden knew he'd been a total jerk after asking her out, just ditching her like that. But his head was a mess because of his dad.
He'd been all into Louisa for a sec at the beach, but then his dad showed up and suddenly everything felt complicated and wrong. He was probably just messing with her anyway, right? That's what his usual self would do.
He noticed her absence from her usual lunch spot a few times. He even overheard Ashtray making a crude joke about her finally getting the message. But Jayden wasn't so sure.
There was a new set to her jaw, a quiet determination that hadn't been there before. He wondered what she was thinking, what she was planning.
That whole date idea felt kinda stupid now with his dad breathing down his neck. But still, he couldn't totally forget how cool she was at the beach, even if he acted like a total tool after.
He knew he should probably say something to her, explain why he bailed. But it was, like, super hard to admit he messed up. Plus, he didn't want her to see that his life wasn't always the perfect rich-kid fantasy everyone thought it was.
He thought about texting Louisa, a casual "Hey, sorry about Friday," but the words felt inadequate, too simple to convey the mess of his emotions. Plus, his pride, that ever-present shield, held him back. He was Jayden King Walton. He didn't apologize for flaking on… anyone.
So he just kept staring, hoping she'd somehow get that he was in a bad place without him actually having to say it. Total loser move, he knew.