June… I just have to survive him until then. I’ll be gone far away from here right after graduation. I’ll find somewhere to live until I can move into my dorm.
What makes you think he’s going to let you go?
I ignore the subconscious warning and peruse the black, windowless fortress.
Shadowsis inscribed across a chrome, parallelogram-shaped backdrop high above the entrance. The pictures online don’t do this architectural beauty justice.
I press the shiny silver button on the intercom.
A woman’s voice crackles through. “Hello, how may I help you?”
“My name is Zilphia Kensley. I have a five o’clock interview with Mr. Hayes.”
After a subtle click, I pull open the heavy metal door and step into an aesthetically pleasing lobby. Three lantern-style spheres hang from the chrome tile ceiling. The red light bulbs inside the ornate fixtures cast a scarlet hue throughout the room. Graphic photos line the black walls—bodies tangled, mouths parted, limbs knotted in pleasure and power.
I come to a dead stop, seeing two men wearing cuts standing guard. My heart kicks into overdrive.
Relax. Maybe the owner just hired them for security.
“Have a seat.” The woman behind the glass partition gestures toward a posh seating area. “Someone will be with you momentarily.”
“Thank you.” I sink into a butter-soft velvet armchair and place my tote bag on the stainless-steel table. I’m not going to let their presence bother me. I need this job.
After school, I changed into interview-appropriate attire—a red blazer, rose-print blouse, black pencil skirt, and ballet flats. I just hope it’s enough to make a good first impression.
Fifteen minutes later, the door next to the teller window swings open, and a beautiful woman with an even more beautiful afro steps through.
“Zilphia?”
“Yes.” I stand, offering a friendly smile.
“Imani Grove, Hawk’s assistant. Follow me, please.”
The receptionist buzzes us through the door. I match her steps, entering the main section beside her. An X-shaped stage is the focal point, with a dance pole at the base of each leg and three in the middle. Barrel chairs are arranged around it for patrons who desire a closer view. Small circular platforms are interspersed between the tables. There are two bars: one to the left and another at the back. Employees scurry to and fro, going about their daily tasks. No customers yet—the club doesn’t open for another hour.
We ride the elevator to the fourth floor, making small talk until we reach a set of black, ornate doors.
She lightly knocks on the gleaming wood surface, and we enter once we’re given permission. “Zilphia Kensley, here to interview for the housekeeping position.”
God, he’s wearing a cut too. How many of these biker guys work here?
Mr. Hayes nods at his assistant, then approaches me, a broad smile defining his deep dimples. This man is a freaking giant—at least seven feet tall. If that doesn’t draw attention, his beautiful ebony-brown skin will.
“Nice to meet you, Zilphia.”
“Likewise,” I respond, accepting his outstretched hand. “I really appreciate this opportunity, Mr. Hayes.”
“Please, call me Hawk,” he says, motioning for me to sit.
Hawk settles into his chair and opens a drawer, pulling my résumé from a manila folder.
“You were a camp counselor,” he remarks, scrutinizing the tiny black text.
“Yes.” I force the lie past my lips. “For the past two summers.”
The small untruth is necessary to meet my end goal. I’m at a significant disadvantage here, especially considering the high hourly wage being offered and the limited opportunities for career growth in the county.
The interview roster likely boasts applicants who are significantly more qualified for the position than I am. My chances are next to nil without some work history. I’m fortunate to have even made it past the screening stage. I put a random day camp near my old neighborhood on my résumé.
