be better to showcase my skills for both men’s and women’s hockey. While I love women’s hockey, it’s time a female sportscaster changes the mindset of the networks and the fans that women sportscasters don’t belong calling men’s games.”
“Obviously it worked.”
“To this point. Now it’s all about how I present myself in person.”
His gaze narrowed. “Is this an on-camera position at a sports desk?”
“I’m not sure. They’ve been specific about certain things and vague about others. Vague about applying for a ‘winter sports’ correspondent position. Then they’re specific about which winter sport. I don’t know if they’re looking to fill multiple broadcasting positions, or if the person they hire needs general knowledge. And before you ask, I don’t have any idea how many applicants have made it to this third round.”
“So it could be two or it could be twenty-two.”
“Yes.” I leaned forward. “That means I need to knock it out of the park with all aspects of this interview. Impressing the interviewers with my sports knowledge should be the core of the interview, but clearly it isn’t. I have to show them my physical appearance isn’t an afterthought. That I’m fierce and feminine. The clothing has to be just flattering enough to prove I care about personal maintenance and fashion trends but nothing boob-baring like I’m some damn puck bunny.”
Nolan whistled. “That is a very tall order, Gabriella.”
“Which is why I’m here.”
“And I can’t tell Jax about this?”
“You can’t tell anybody about it. I don’t think I was supposed to reveal the name of the cable network. I’m pretty sure there was an NDA in the paperwork.”
“They’re definitely the big dog of the Upper Midwest cable networks.” Then he gave me that lazy grin. “You realize if I agree to help you, I’ll expect something in return.”
Took every bit of willpower not to say anything you want. “Such as?”
He set his coffee cup on the table between us. “Off the top of my head, I need volunteers for my LCCO project, which also happens to be this weekend. Saturday at Rosewood Bowling Alley. It’s an LGBTQ mixer for Twin Cities high schoolers.”
“I’m in.”
“That fast?”
“Yes. Look at me.” I held my hands out. They shook like crazy. “You are my last hope, Obi-Wan Kenobi.”
He grinned. “I told you before . . . I’m Lando.”
“He was the ultimate fashion plate too. So are we doing this thing?”
A beat passed and he drummed his fingers on the arm of his chair. Then he pulled out his cell phone from the inside pocket of his jacket and dialed.
Keeping his eyes on mine, he said, “Sam. Please cancel all my appointments for the day.” He frowned. “That was today? No matter. Reschedule everything else, I’ll handle that one. Also, add Gabriella Welk as a volunteer for the LCCO mixer on Saturday. We’ll stop by your desk on the way out and give you her contact details.”
“Nolan. I can’t thank you enough.”
“You might rethink my help when I sic my sadistic stylist tailor on you.” He turned his speaker on and set his phone on the coffee table.
The line rang three times before a snippy voice answered, “Mr. Lund. I’d nearly abandoned hope I’d hear from you. The new lines have been out for weeks and you haven’t shown the slightest bit of interest.” A pause. “Are you ill?”
Nolan laughed. “No. Just busy.”
“Well, you are in luck. I had a cancellation for next Friday.”
“Here’s the thing, Q. I’m gonna need you to clear your schedule for today. And before you get huffy, I will also say that I’m not the one in need of your fashion expertise today. I have a”—his eyes twinkled when he said—“female friend who you’ll be advising.”
“Funny. A little drop-everything-for-a-Lund joke to start my week off in a total panic.”
“I’m not joking. I have a couple of things to wrap up here at the office, but we can meet you anywhere in the next hour.”
“Do you have any idea how much havoc this will wreak on my schedule?”
“Please don’t make me play the ‘I spend a fuck-ton of money with you every year’ card.”
A heavy sigh. “FINE. Is this consult only clothing?”
“It’s the works: clothing, shoes, accessories.”
“Since my showroom is not in any state to entertain clients with such short notice, we’ll have to do this at the design studio. It’s at D.NOLO. In the North Loop.”
“I’ve been there, remember?”
“Oh, I haven’t seen you in so long I assumed you’d forgotten where I do all my best work.”
“Nice one,” Nolan said