Keep your cover,I tell myself. So, I take the coffee.
“How are you?” asks Lilian.
“Fine,” I say without looking at her, but focusing my eyes on one of the saxophonists. The saxophone solo goes straight into my chest.
“Are you taken, or what is the reason you block my interest?” asks Lilian out of the blue, and I choke on my coffee. There are a million things I want to answer her, but I can’t say any of them.
“No,” I say, “I’m not. Just not interested.”
“Why?” she asks, not letting it go.
“Because of this. You rich people think you own the world and are so perfect that everyone wants you, adores you, jumps because you say so,” I say harsher than I wanted to. I don’t even look at her as I empty the coffee in one go and walk away.
I groan internally when I hear her follow me.
She grabs my arm to stop me, her consuming scent of fruit and oak washes over me, a very present and dominant perfume, which fits her perfectly.
“I would have a job for you,” she says, catching me completely off guard. A smirk hushes over my face. Not because of the offer, but because of how Lilian operates and what she reveals to me by it.
I turn—intrigued.
“And then what? I work for you, and you hit on me any other day?”
“No,” Lilian says, and I see who she really is for the first time. “More like a mutual agreement.”
“I see,” I say, as the dots connect on why Lilian has never been seen with a girlfriend or anything before. And in any other situation, I would have said yes. Because mutual agreements and superficial sex are exactly how I operate. But not Ella Larsen.
“Think about it,” says Lilian, and hands me a card with ahandwritten number on it. “I heard you studied some semesters of Psychology in Copenhagen. I’m sure you could make a lot more in my area of work than in hotel service.”
I really have to fight the dangerous smirk that wants to appear on my face.
“You heard,” I repeat what she said, drawing up an eyebrow. “More like you researched me properly to know where to get me. Like I said, you rich people who believe they can own anyone.”
Lilian takes a step closer and whispers without looking at me. “I also know that you’re here undocumented. I can change that.”
A shudder shoots through my spine.
I am distracted by what she said and by how she said it. Her tone switched into something very different, something threatening and predatory, something I have heard before. Something Sutton has said to me in almost the same way all those years ago.
I freeze.
My body tenses as I am taken back to when I was fourteen. Undocumented. Naive. Volatile.
Images flash through my mind.
Air gets scarce.
Not right now.
I can’t go back there right now.
I’m Ella,I tell myself as my mind.Ella Larsen. Who has fake documents, yes. Because Ella is a fake person.
All of this is fake.
Hi, I’m Ella Larsen. Oh yeah, I’m from Denmark, yes. Someday, maybe, yes. I love tending a community garden. Oh, you too? That’s so nice.
I replay a fake conversation in my head.
