A tall, elegant woman in a cream-colored suit extended her hand to me. Her nails were perfectly manicured, painted a soft pink.
«Veronica Ashford,» she said, her smile bright and cool. «I work in hospital administration at Metropolitan Elite. We’ve been trying to recruit Brandon for months.»
«Oh,» I said, shaking her hand. My own nails were bare and short, the skin around them rough from cleaning chemicals. «That’s wonderful.»
«Brandon is incredibly talented,» Veronica continued, not really looking at me, but at Brandon. «We need brilliant surgeons like him. The salary package we’re offering is extremely competitive.»
Another classmate, a guy named Thomas, joined the conversation with his wife, a woman in a designer dress who I’d overheard earlier talking about their recent trip to Paris.
«Pierce, you’re set for life, man. Elite salary plus the reputation, you’ll be unstoppable,» Thomas said.
Thomas’s wife smiled at me, a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. «And you must be so relieved, Grace. Brandon told us you’ve been working while he was in school. Retail, wasn’t it? You must be exhausted.»
The way she said «retail» made it sound like something dirty.