Chapter 6
Ellie
He’s kidding.
I mean, tell me he has to be fucking kidding.
As I march out of the Redwood Hotel lobby and down the strip to the parking garage, I am both upset and appalled.
A sex clause? I mean, I know what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, but…
sex as part of a job? There’s a word for that.
There’s also a word for girls who do that.
And I am not about to have that label on me, professionally or otherwise.
I can’t possibly imagine where that man gets off.
I don’t care how rich and powerful he is.
The audacity of it all is wild. Even if he is hot…
which…he very much is. I would be lying if I said I didn’t look him up on the way to the hotel today.
And I would be lying again if I said his dark eyes, stony stare and rigid jawline didn’t make my heart beat a little faster.
I mean, let’s face it, he’s a ten out of ten.
But you know what they say about tens. You can’t trust them.
The worst part of all of it, the part that has me crying into my latte in my car, is that I really needed that job.
A job like that undoubtedly pays better than all three of my part-timers combined.
Not just that, but it would have been consistent and challenging and gotten Luca and me out of our perpetual slump.
It would have been something to be proud of.
Something that when my parents asked or compared me to Rachel, I could confidently say I was back in action, doing something I love and am also good at.
Or at least working my way back into the industry for that.
But that wouldn’t be the case if they or anyone else knew what else the job entailed.
I pick Luca up from school later in the afternoon and, as usual, he’s in a good mood. Luca is a perpetual optimist despite not fitting in with most kids. He’s artsy and inquisitive and not really like everyone else. But I love that about him.
“How was your day, buddy?” I ask as he buckles himself into the car.
“It was good. We learned about types of clouds.”
“Oh, that’s interesting,” I say. I wonder if any of those clouds have silver linings.
I can feel my eyes filling with tears again, but I refuse to cry.
I don’t want Luca to see me upset. I don’t want him to know anything is wrong, despite the fact that I was counting on this interview to lead to a job.
The restaurant has been slow this week, and bills are piling up, including a third and final notice for the electric bill.
I could ask for help, but I’m too stubborn for that. I don’t want Rachel’s money, and a handout from my parents never comes without a guilt trip. I’m not in the mood for another, Why can’t you be more like your sister, talk.
What I am in the mood for is drowning my sorrows with sugar.
“What do you say we get some ice cream?” I ask as I head towards Three Scoops Creamery.
“Ice cream?! Yes, yes, yes!” Luca claps and for the first time today, I smile.
“Good! I’m thinking sundaes,” I tell him.
“Sundaes? Does that mean you got the job?” he asks, and my smile tips downward.
“I’m still working on it, buddy. But we are going to have celebratory ice cream anyways.”
I hand the last of my tips to the cashier, and Luca is not wrong.
Sundaes are expensive. I also don’t care.
Not today. Today I want to be mad at my ex-future boss, and I want to eat ice cream with chocolate and caramel and pecans and I want to watch my five-year-old little boy lick the sprinkles off his ice cream cone and pretend like life isn’t hard.
As we sit outside, he prances around the courtyard of the creamery, and I feel for all of two minutes like we are going to be okay. Then my phone rings. It’s Rachel, and my heart dips in my chest.
“Hey,” I answer.
“Did you get the job?” She blurts out, and my heart sinks even lower. “Ellie? Tell me you got the job.”
“He offered me the job,” I answer, even though it’s not the full answer.
Rachel shrieks on the other end of the phone. “Yeah, he did! So when do you start?” she asks.
“Well, I haven’t accepted the position yet,” I tell her.
“Okay, but you’re going to. You should be happy. Why don’t you sound happy?”
“It’s complicated,” I answer, and I know my sister can tell something is wrong.
“Ellie…” she trails off. “Why haven’t you accepted the job? It’s the Redwood Hotel! This is like your dream job.”
“It’s not my dream job. It’s practically secretarial,” I say, using my bright blue plastic spoon to push a pecan around in the swirl of chocolate and caramel sauces.
“On the top floor! You’re not dealing with customers, Ellie. You’re working alongside CEOs. There is a difference, and if I had to guess, it’s a high-paying difference. I’m sure there are a lot of benefits too.”
Yeah. Benefits for him.
“I know. It’s just…” I trail off. I’m not about to tell her what happened in that office.
I’m not about to tell her that the CEO of the Redwood Hotel, among others, proposed a benefits clause that includes obligatory sex.
The very idea of my applying for a job like that is mortifying.
No matter how powerful and wealthy and attractive my potential boss was.
“You know what I think?” she asks. It’s the question she asks when she is about to say something older-sisterly. Something where she calls me out on my shit and I have no choice but to agree with her because nine times out of ten, she’s right.
Somehow, considering the lack of details I’m giving her, I’m not so sure she’s going to be right.
“I think you are self-sabotaging because of what happened with Dylan,” she says.
“What does Dylan have to do with this?” I ask.
“Well, think about it. He used you to get higher in the company than you were. Then he cheated on you, waved it around in your face until you were humiliated enough to quit. And then you went through your little depressive slash slut era and–”
“Hang on,” I cut her off. “What slut era?”
“You do realize you went on dates, right? Not to mention the night you spent at that masquerade party.”
“I went on dates to try to forget about Dylan, yes. But I’d hardly call it a slut era.”
“Either way,” Rachel keeps going. “You are now a single mom, and you’ve been out of the corporate world of hotel work for over five years, and with Dylan waving his success around in your face, I can see how getting back out there is intimidating.”
“I’m not intimidated,” I tell her, pinching the bridge of my nose between my fingers.
“It’s just…it’s an assistant job. I used to have people listening to me.
Working under me. Not taking calls for a grumpy, rich man at his giant desk.
It’s not…” I trail off as my throat grows tight.
“It’s not where I thought I’d be right now. I’m not…you.”
“What do you mean by that?” she asks, and I swallow hard.
“I don’t have my life together. I’m not engaged and living in a beautiful home, planning a honeymoon, and everything else. I’m a mom in an apartment living paycheck to paycheck.”
“You’re a mom,” she says. Immediately, I feel guilty. Despite not being married yet, Rachel and Chance have been trying for a baby for almost four years. “That’s saying something.”
“I’m sorry I forgot you had another appointment with the OB,” I apologize. “How did that go?”
“Well. He pretty much said IVF is our only hope at this point.”
“Oh Rache. I’m so sorry. But I mean…that means it’s still possible, right?”
“Yeah, if I happened to have thirty grand just lying around,” she mutters.
“Thirty grand?” I ask.
“Yeah,” Rachel’s voice catches in her throat. “Apparently that’s how much it costs for women like me to get to be moms,”
“Jesus, Rache,” I whisper as tears sting my eyes.
“And since we just bought the new house and the new car and with the wedding plans. I don’t think that will be happening anytime soon. So. Yeah.”
I bite my lip to hold back the tears. Meanwhile, Rachel is good at hiding all her pain as usual.
“Take the job, El. You never know where it could lead.”
Luca and I go home after ice cream, and I rummage through the pantry while he heads to the living room to turn on cartoons.
A responsible mom would have skipped the ice cream and got a few things for dinner at the grocery store.
Or at the very least swung through a drive-thru.
But I’m a glutton for these things, and once in a while, the “I can do all the everything” mask slips, and I make bad choices for the sake of instant gratification.
Maybe it’s just the longing for feeling good. To be a mom who can give her kid anything he wants. Who doesn’t have to say no to treats in the checkout line and doesn’t buy all his clothes either on clearance or at secondhand stores.
Speaking of masks, my mind drifts back to that night.
I fill a pot with water for pasta that I’ll probably just add garlic and butter to and a little shaker parmesan and pretend it’s a well-rounded meal, and my thoughts flash to six years ago.
To the night at the hotel when my heart was broken, my mascara was running and a masked man whisked me away.
I was a princess for an evening. I was desired for an evening.
I was devoured for an evening. That man made me feel things I’ve never felt.
He consumed me, body and soul. He’s also Luca’s father, a secret nobody knows.
I’ve kept it hidden because, for one, no one would believe me.
Two, no one would approve, and three…I don’t know who that man was.
But judging by his status, he has no interest in being the father of my child.
So I do it alone, and I keep those memories for the nights I feel especially alone. But my God, that man was stellar in the sheets! A thief of my composure. The way he took and gave all in the same motion…it felt like I was losing my virginity for the second time. And not a kid at a college party.
“Mommy, Netflix isn’t working,” Luca’s voice rips me out of the daydream, and I nearly drop the pot on the stove.
“I’ll check it in a minute,” I say. But as I turn the knob on the burner, nothing happens. And before my brow can even furrow in confusion, the lights flicker once, twice and the house goes dark.
“Mommy!” Luca cries out.
“I know, sweetheart, it’s okay,” I say, using my cell phone light to make my way into the living room where Luca is balled up on the couch.
“I don’t like the dark,” he says.
“I know,” I tell him.
“When is it going to come back on?” he asks.
When I pay the electric bill.
“I don’t know. How about we light some candles and make some peanut butter and jellies and have a camp out in the living room!”
Luca thinks about that before nodding. “Okay. But we’re going to need all my stuffed animals. They’re scared of the dark, too.”
Luca rummages around for a flashlight and runs down the hall. At the same time, tears run down my cheeks.
As a single mom, I spend a lot of my time at the end of the line. But right now, I truly have no idea what I’m going to do. While I watch Luca construct a pillow fort in the living room, I open the email from Redwood with the job offer.
As I read through it, the pit in my stomach grows. There’s no way. Even though I am sitting in the dark with my child, who is making the best of a shit situation, there is no fucking way I can accept a job of this nature.
Then I see a clause in bold letters in the offer and my heart stops altogether.
Sign-on bonus $25,000 with 6-month obligatory employment.
I blink twice, wondering if I read that right. But the words are there, clear as day, and the email is signed by Damien Graves himself.
Six months. I would have to agree to all the terms of the job…for six months. The salary is enough to pay all my bills and live very, very comfortably. And the sign-on bonus…could help Rachel.
I drag my attention over to Luca who is cradling one of his stuffies in his arms.
“It’s okay, Mr. Panda. The lights will come back on soon. Mommy will take care of everything. She always does.”
I take in a quick breath. And with a racing heart, I reply to the email.
Here goes…well…everything.