Chapter Nine
Chapter
Nine
Beulah
The bright lights outside “Rocks on the Riverfront,” an eighteen and up club, were blinding to approach without sunglasses. The spot was located on the roof of a well-known hotel in Savannah, the most popular location for the college crowd anyone had ever chosen in the area. I left Heidi at four today and spent an hour searching for employers. Places that were hiring and open late, or better yet, open all night. Rocks on the Riverfront didn’t get busy until nine in the evening and didn’t close until three in the morning. Those were perfect hours for me.
It wasn’t even seven yet. I’d called asking if they were hiring. A girl sent me to Mr. Carey Jones, the club’s manager and the man that hired. He said to be here at seven, and he’d give me an interview. I knew without him saying a word that he wanted to see what I looked like. At a club like this, it mattered. I hated that, but I was desperate.
The short black skirts and tight halter tops the girls were wearing when I walked in were what I expected to see, though seeing the uniform only made me more nervous. I didn’t dress like that. The most revealing thing I owned was cut-off blue jean shorts. This would be a difficult adjustment. But then again, if it paid enough, and I could afford Heidi’s care, living with the outfit was fine.
“We don’t open for another thirty minutes,” a red-headed girl with long (in no way) natural eyelashes suddenly said, stopping in front of me. No one else had seemed to notice my presence until she bolted over.
“I’m here to meet with Carey Jones,” I replied.
She did a quick scan of me and nodded. “Of course. Right this way.”
The way she walked with her hips swaying made her short skirt ride high, barely covering her bottom. I imagine that got her a lot of tips. She was probably paying for her college. Or maybe she had to take care of someone like I had to do.
“He’s in there. Knock and wait. He’ll answer when he’s done.”
“Thank you,” I replied. I was thankful someone had stopped to say something to me.
“Yep,” she said in return before leaving me standing.
I knocked on the door and waited. I heard voices inside and didn’t want to repeat it, though I wondered if they hadn’t heard me. One voice was female and gave a high-pitched squeal that sounded a little, well, strange to be coming from his office.
Before I rapped again, someone approached from behind and asked, “Are you looking for Carey?” He was tall with brown hair in a ponytail and bright green eyes that glistened.
“Yes.”
He then nodded and loudly knocked on the door. “You got company!” he yelled, looking back at me. “Give them a minute to get dressed,” he said, making his way down a dim hall.
If I hadn’t been nervous already, now I was completely befuddled. They were getting dressed for me. Which meant they’d been undressed. Which meant the high-pitched squeal was exactly what I thought—a high-pitched squeal from sex. Maybe Carey’s girlfriend worked here? I had no problem with workplace sex. I just thought it was weird when he knew he had an interview with me.
The door finally opened, and a tall and leggy platinum blonde left the office. She ran her hand through her hair and sauntered past me without even a glance.
“Come on in,” the man inside said. I took a deep breath and entered the office, not knowing what to expect.
I’d only had sex once in my life. It hadn’t been enjoyable, and I hadn’t tried it since. But I wasn’t an innocent; I’d been to parties in high school and around sex a great deal. I knew what sex smelled like. And this office smelled like it.
Carey Jones didn’t notice, or he just didn’t care. He ran his hand along the sides of his thinning hair and gave me a once-over, much the same as the redhead did. “You’re uh. . .” he then glanced down at a piece of paper on his desk. It was rumpled, torn, and illegible. “Be-u-lah?” he said, looking back at me as if I might not pronounce my name correctly.
“Yes, sir,” I replied.
He grinned and said, “Nice. You can read, write, and walk in heels, correct?”
Those were odd questions. “Yes, I can do all three.”
“When can you start?”
“Uh, as soon as possible.”
“Perfect, tonight’s not a good night for training. Monday nights are slower. Be here at eight, I’ll have a uniform ready. Size four?”
I nodded, unsure if this was a joke or really this easy to be hired.
“I’ve got to go handle a mistake with some ordering at the bar. Unless you have any questions, take these papers with you. Fill them out, bring them with you tomorrow, and a copy of your driver’s license and. . .ahh. . . that should be about it.”
“Okay,” I said, taking the papers from him, realizing I had no idea what the pay was or the position he was giving me. Not that the latter mattered. Just the money. “Do you know how many hours a week I’ll be working and what I’ll make an hour?”
“I can work you as many as forty hours a week and as few as twenty-five. Your call. It’s up to you. And we pay sixteen dollars an hour for what you’ll do here. You don’t get tips like the servers, so the hourly pay is better for you. However, quite often, my hostesses get tipped for putting customers in prime spots. Also, if you prove to be an excellent employee then we can talk about moving you into a server’s position.”
The base pay wouldn’t be enough. Even if I worked forty hours a week which would be difficult. After taxes, I was sure it would be short of what I needed for Heidi, but if I could get tips, maybe I could get close to what I needed. At least until I could get moved into a serving position.
“Okay, thank you,” I said. He then gave me a creepy wide grin before leaving me there in his office. I followed him out with the papers in my hand. I was positive I needed more money, perhaps I could go to talk to Among the Spanish Moss about a payment plan. Until I could make more money, maybe get her a smaller room, if that was even an option. I had no idea, Portia handled all of that, but now that was off the table.
I’d been so relieved to have somewhere for Heidi that didn’t include a cardboard box on the street snuggled up to me that I hadn’t even asked about the price. Now, I needed to know. I had to figure this out. I should’ve been doing that and planning for all eventualities from the start. Not assuming Portia would take care of things from the beginning until I could. I didn’t have the excuse of losing mom anymore. I’d mourned her, cried myself to sleep many nights, and now I had to grow up.
This job was going to be exhausting. I wouldn’t have time to work three jobs. These two would take all my time. Tomorrow, I’d call and talk to the people at Among the Spanish Moss to see what could be done. If I had to, I’d find another home for Heidi. It would upset her, and that would break my heart, but if it were impossible to keep her there, then I wouldn’t know what else to do. She couldn’t be left alone while I worked, and there was nowhere I’d make the kind of money I was making with the Van Allan’s.
Someone somewhere was having a harder time than me. I could overcome this. I would make this work. I wouldn’t feel sorry for myself. But tonight, just tonight, I may cry a bit. Then steel myself and toughen up.