Chapter 20
It's already Friday. The week flew by, packed with meetings and contracts.
With the company growing so fast, I've realized I can't handle everything on my own.
That's why we decided to hire an assistant to help me with scheduling and someone else to handle contracts, review, and clearance specifically.
Alex and I will still be responsible for signatures.
Today he invited me to dinner, but I'd already accepted a dance gig with a really good payout. Since I need to save up, I chose the dance job instead.
I'm getting ready. Today I picked out a dress I've had tucked away for ages.
I had it custom-made to dance for Alex, though he still doesn't know this side of me.
And now, I'm not even sure it's my place to show him anymore.
The dress is white, slightly sheer, with thin straps and a thong underneath.
I also chose a white mask to match, and white stilettos.
I leave my hair down in curls. I do my makeup carefully and I'm almost ready when one of the girls comes in to let me know my client is already waiting.
I thank her and head out. A few minutes later, I make my way to my private room—a reserved space with a pole in the center.
I nod at the security guard by the door and go in.
The room, bathed in soft red light, oozes charm and deliberate drama. I walk over to the sound system and put on the music I picked for tonight. I take a deep breath before turning to face the man, settled into his upholstered armchair.
He's sitting with his legs crossed, hands resting on his knees, watching me in silence, tracking my every move without showing any reaction.
I walk to the pole and, following the rhythm of the music, begin my performance.
My movements are sensual—sometimes on the floor, sometimes on the pole—but I always keep a safe distance from the client.
I usually pick three songs for each performance.
While he savors his drink, I lose myself in what I love most: dancing.
During the second song, I notice subtle signs of change—he seems more restless in his chair, maybe a little worked up.
Still, he stays put, showing no intention of coming closer. I continue.
Near the end of my performance, I catch a glimpse of his phone in his hand.
He appears to be filming me—something strictly forbidden and made clear beforehand.
The shock throws me off for a crucial instant.
I lose my balance and fall from the pole.
On impact, my mask, held only by a delicate satin ribbon, slips loose and slides off my face, revealing my identity—something I've always been careful to hide in this line of work.
The man jumps up and rushes toward me with what looks like concern.
But my security guard is faster. The moment he hears the thud of my body hitting the floor, he's already on his way.
When I look up, dazed, he drapes his jacket over me and, firmly but gently, gets me out of the room.
I'm taken straight to the dressing room.
Moments later, Monique, a friend I made here, rushes in.
Seeing me sitting there with teary eyes and my face still uncovered, she crouches beside me and notices the scrapes on my knee and elbow, already starting to redden and swell.
“What happened, Chloe?”
“I fell off the pole. I noticed he was filming me and it startled me. Next thing I knew, I was on the floor—and worst of all, without my mask. The one thing I was terrified of happened: my face was exposed.”
“Damn it, let's go after him!”
Matheus, my security guard for the night, comes into the dressing room and says:
“The bastard's already gone. When I heard the noise, I ran in and saw her on the floor, so I grabbed her and carried her out. By the time I went back, he'd already taken off. Sorry, Chloe!”
“It's not your fault, Matheus. I didn't notice my mask coming untied or that he was filming. I saw him shifting around in his chair, but it didn't click that he might have his phone out.”
“Do you want to go to the hospital and get checked out?”
“No need. I've fallen before when I was learning. Give it a couple days and this will be much better.”
Boy, was I wrong. On Monday, when I went back to work, I was still in pain, and my leg and elbow were bruised purple. Since I could walk normally, I was just putting on ointment and taking painkillers.
I got to my desk and started organizing my things when Alex stepped out of his office and walked over to me.
“What happened to you?”
“I fell and hurt my knee and elbow. It hurts a bit.”
“You didn't go to the doctor?”
“No, it was just a fall. I'm fine. It's a little bruised and sore, but by tomorrow I'll be much better.”
“If it doesn't improve, I'm taking you myself. Let's get to work—we've got a lot of meetings today.”
“Of course, I'm on my way.”
I notice he seems off today, and I don't know why, but I don't want to irritate him further. So I grab my things and hurry to his office. We go over everything scheduled for today and the next two days.
“On Friday, be ready—you'll be coming with me to the cocktail party.”
“Yes, I figured as much. The two interviews are happening today. Do you want to sit in, or should I let Sabrina decide who to hire?”
“I think you're the best person to decide, since she'll be here to assist you.”
“All right, then I'll handle the interviews. I'll take care of today's contracts—they're already in your email. I'll bring them over for you to review shortly.”
He doesn't say a word, and I simply leave the room, closing the door behind me and leaving him alone.
I return to my desk, organize my work, call Human Resources to let them know about the hiring decision, and leave the printed contracts in my boss's office.
The rest of the day goes by without incident.
All the contracts were properly signed, and the new employee, Vivian, is already hired.
She's married and lives close to work, which made the decision much easier—we only needed to hire one person.
Finally, the workday ends, and I can go home. I need to ice my leg, which swelled up from all the running around today. As I grab my purse to leave, Alex appears at the door.
“Wait, I'll give you a ride.”
“You don't have to, Alex. You have dinner with your aunt and uncle, and it's coming up soon.”
“It's no problem if I'm a few minutes late. Let's go!”
And so I follow him, walking as best I can. He stops in front of my apartment, gives me a kiss and a “see you tomorrow.” He was off all day today, barely talked, and honestly, I didn't push it. Maybe it was better that way.
I get home, take a shower, make dinner for us, and settle onto the couch with Ele to watch a movie. That's how we end another day.
With each new morning, as the date to repeat the tests and start the surgery protocol draws closer, I feel a quiet joy growing inside me. And Ele, as always, with that beautiful smile on her face, has never let the illness defeat her. She stays strong, just as she's always been.
And I try to stay strong too. I'll admit that sometimes, in the silence of my room, it's hard to hold back the tears when I see such a sweet, innocent girl facing all of this. But I hold it together, because right now, it's just the two of us, supporting each other.