I add a winking emoji and hit send with a small laugh. Eugene’s overworked, but I don’t feel too guilty. He’s the one who acted like my contribution at the foundation was meaningless. And he can’t let the foundation flounder, because it would reflect poorly on us. Dad would never allow anything to make the family or Hae Min look bad.
“Anyway.” I smile at my friends, putting my phone away. “Thank you for the job offer. But first, I need some help with my résumé.”
“Sure,” says Court. “What’s the problem with it?”
“The problem is that I don’t have a résumé. I’ve never written one.”
The group of very capable men look at each other, and for once seem nonplussed. Of course, I doubt any of them ever had to write one, either.
“No problem,” Evie says. “We’ll be happy to help.”
“Yup. It’s not that hard,” Kim says. “When do you want to get started?”
“How about now?” I say. “And thank you, ladies.”
Chapter Six
Yuna
Kim takes out her laptop and boots it, while the men go off to shoot pool on Tony’s new billiards table. I look around and find a white wall to stand in front of. Then I stretch my arm out and take a selfie.
The lighting is sort of sucky. It casts too much shadow on my face, making me look wan and haggard. Nobody wants to hire someone who looks like a piece of old lettuce.
“What are you doing?” Evie asks.
“Trying to take a decent photo for the résumé, but it’s not working. I’ll have to do it tomorrow morning when we have better light.”
I put my phone away and go back to the table. Eugene hasn’t replied. Probably too pissed off to come up with a good response. Heh.
“Why would you need a selfie?” Ivy says.
“Uh…for my résumé?” Why are they asking me this? Aren’t they the experts? “I can’t use a picture with a busy background. It wouldn’t look professional.”
“It isn’t professional to attach a selfie to a résumé, either,” Kim says.
“It isn’t? But every résumé I’ve seen had one. Not necessarily a selfie, but a good headshot.”
Evie looks at me curiously. “Really?”
“Yeah. In Korea, they always do.”
“You sure you aren’t mixing up dossiers with résumés?” Kim asks.
I spread my hands. “Possibly?” Maybe the personnel files I saw for the employees at the Ivy Foundation weren’t really résumés. But how am I supposed to know?
“Okay, let’s just write it the way an Ameri
can company would want it.” Kim starts typing. “So. Your job experience?”
“The Ivy Foundation. But other than that, nothing. I didn’t even run the duty-free shopping division for the company.”
I say it with more regret than I ever thought would be possible. Hae Min has a very profitable duty-free shopping division, which is part of the department stores we own. It’s one thing I could’ve managed with some help. But I never wanted to run any part of the Hae Min Group. If I’d shown any interest in management, Dad would’ve definitely stopped me from going to Curtis, free tuition or no.
“So you did exactly what at the foundation?” Kim looks up, a hopeful expression on her face.
“Um…” I think for a second, wondering if I’m going to end up letting her down with my answer. But I don’t want to lie to her, either. “I usually tell people what to do…?”
“That sounds…bossy,” Ivy says with a small frown.