We were somewhere in between entrees and mains.
Seated next to a woman I’d never met before, I was making small talk while trying not to reveal my clumsy table tendencies. She seemed cool, but it was too soon.
“Lizzie has actually just started her own freelance writing business,” our mutual friend unexpectedly threw to me across the table.
My head jolted up and away from the glass of pinot I was pouring, which ended up mostly on the table. The gig was up.
“I did!” I managed, as I tried to subtly mop up the red stain. “Early days but it’s all very exciting.”
My new friend seemed to think so, too. Her eyes widened as she leaned forward and said:
“Oh, that’s amazing! What kind of writing do you do? I work at an events agency and we really need a freelance writer!”
I do all kinds of writing, I told her. And they needed one urgently.
The following week, I went to their fancy co-work space to meet with my new friend’s boss, who ran the agency. Immediately I could tell she was one of those hard…
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