My smile drops as the call does. Another fivethousand dollars a month?
Well, shit.
Chapter Three
In which we are reminded that if an offer seems too good to be true, it usually is.
“Ivy…”
After my part-time job at the flower shop on the corner but before my next shift at Club Vice, I enjoy a luxurious twenty minutes to brush all the pollen out of my hair and squeeze myself into my server’s dress. It takes more of a struggle to zip up than I care to dwell on.
“I don’t know how you can still be squeezing into that dress. It looks like a silver lame glitter anaconda swallowing a cow.” Gabby waves her fingers briskly, drying the violent purple nail polish, “You never eat anything.”
“I had a protein bar today,” I mumble. She’s right. This glittery tube dress should be hanging on me like a sack at this point. Do they shrink in the wash? I check the laundry label on the dress.
Dry clean only.
Yeah, any item of clothing expecting to be dry-cleaned on my budget is about to learn some harsh truths from me. Maybe I can ask for a new uniform tonight.
“Ivy? Signora Mancelli wants to see you in her office.” Luis, my favorite bartender is slicing limes and throws one at me.
“Rude!”
I throw it back, watching the lime slice fly through the air and smack into his forehead with a spray of juice, and head for the office as he yelps, “Juice in the eye, ah, shit! Juice in the eye!”
I stop laughing the minute Signora Guilia Mancelli’s door opens. She’s got a very long and angular body, with long black hair and pointy cat’s-eye glasses.
“Buon pomeriggio,Lily. How are you?”
“Buon pomeriggio.I’m well, and you?” I’ve only been in this office once, the day she hired me. The shaded windows look out on the second-floor lounge area, which is blissfully quiet and clean this time of day.
“Quite well. Signor Toscano tells me that you’re interested in a change in your job description.” Settling back behind her desk, she nods to a chair close by.
“Yes ma’am,” I say, rubbing my sweaty palms on my too-tight dress. “I hope I’ve shown that my work ethic is good.”
She’s looking at me closely, a slow examination and it’s making me nervous. “I’m sorry to say that we don’t have any openings in the other two clubs, servers tend to stay once they’re assigned there.” She smiles and looks at her laptop, dismissing me.
I need five thousand dollars more…
Desperation makes me brave. “Are- are you sure there isn’t anything else that might be higher paying? I can do inventory, accounting, I-”
“That depends.” She’s looking at me again with speculative interest. “How flexible are you with the position?”
This doesn’t sound good. Walk away. Abort.
“Wh- what’s the position?”
“Every month, we hold a special auction. Men - and a few women - bid on some of our most attractive employees,” she says, looking a bit amused because I’m sure my shock is showing.
“What are they bidding on, exactly?” I croak.
She shrugs, tapping her keyboard. “For the evening. Those being auctioned make it clear what they’re willing to offer and what’s off the table. It’s very well-supervised for the safety of both people involved.”
“So…” I rub my bare arms, “so sex, then.”
“Si,Ivy.” Oh, she definitely finds me entertaining. “There would be sex involved. Just how far you’re willing to go is made clear beforehand, butsi. The bidder would expect sex.”
I can’t do this. There’s no way.
