Chapter Thirteen
Lily
? “I Hate Everything About You” - Three Days Grace ?
Mateo offered me a job—like a big-girl, grown-up job. As a paralegal. At a law firm in his office building. A. Big. Girl. Job.
When he dropped me off, I told him I would think about it.
It pays well, I could work there during the day and pick up random shifts at the club at night.
My only hesitation is if I take this job, I feel I would be drifting further away from the idea of being a fashion designer.
Taking the job would mean being in law school is purposeful and not a waste of my time.
I hear the front door open and look down the hallway to see Celeste coming through the door. She walks into the kitchen, grabbing two bowls and cereal. I get up from the couch to sit at the kitchen island. She pours us both a bowl and slides one in front of me. “You got my note, right?” she asks.
“July seventh. I’m so excited!” I say, shoving a spoon into my mouth.
“It’s June sixth.” Celeste puts her hands on her hips, tilting her head to the side.
“Shit. Sorry, yes. I still have the sticky note. It’s on my computer. I hope you don’t mind I invited everyone I know in my class and someone from the club.”
“Who from the club?”
I press my tongue against my teeth before whispering, “Mateo.”
Her eyes widen as she takes a seat next to me. “Mateo. The one who throws money at you, Mateo?” I nod my head in confirmation.
“What happened to ‘you don’t shit where you eat’?!”
I shove another spoonful of cereal into my mouth. “I never said I slept with him,” I say, spitting cereal at her.
“Not yet,” she snarks.
I hit her on the arm with the back of my hand. “Hey, I have some morals.”
“Oh yeah? So, what happened with you and Jace when I was gone?”
I choke on my cereal, feeling the marshmallows and milk go down the wrong tube. Celeste lays her head in her hand that is propped up on the counter while I pound on my chest.
When I finally catch my breath, I say, “Nothing,” and shake my head.
“Don’t forget I fell for his best friend. I remember all the cues and the way I acted.” She points at me, obviously referencing the coughing fest I just had. “They are different,” she whispers under her breath.
“No. What they are is crazy.”
“True.” She shrugs, finishing her cereal and throwing it into the kitchen sink before heading to her side of the house.
I look at my phone when I hear a ping.
Reminder: Gala
I jump out of my chair, screaming and grabbing my bowl of cereal to run to my room.
I turn on my computer, going straight to the live stream.
Every year, the gala is held here in New York City, a little over an hour away from my house.
And every year I cry my eyes out on the fact that my dress is not being worn on the red carpet.
I shove another spoonful of cereal into my mouth as I watch the rest of the celebrities sway onto the red carpet. My cheeks turn cold as I feel wet drops run down them. I put my bowl to the side, pulling my knees to my chest, and stare at the drawer that my sketchbook is shoved into.
I open the drawer, gathering the courage to pull out the book, and open it to the first page.
A couple of years ago, I drew an all-black jumpsuit with white crisscross stitching.
The arms are long, cut at a diagonal to give it a fairy look, and the chest is a low-cut V, pinched at the waist with bell bottom pants.
I flip to the next page—a short, tight black dress with long sleeves but the shoulders are pinched large, giving it a Cruella de Vil look, crested with rhinestones and diamonds at the square neck.
I’m going to make this, and I am going to wear it Celeste's art exhibit.
I walk into the club earlier than usual today. It smells like lavender, meaning the carpets have been freshly vacuumed. The lights are still bright, and no music has started playing, giving me a little peace so I can gather my thoughts and focus on my plan here.
I spot a short, tan shadow lurking in the back of the club. “Roxxie!” I scream, jogging to her and stopping right in her path.
She looks me up and down, her facial muscles not moving an inch.
“You like? I made it myself.” I hold my arms out and give her a spin. Today I’m wearing a leather pink dress I made. It has the illusion of belts wrapping all along it. One belt is holding my tits together, tightly.
“Not particularly. What can I do for you, Miss Ballis?”
My smile falls, but I hold my chin up high. “I need to speak to Axel.” I decide my best friend will just have to hate me because I will not be stuck in VIP today.
“Reason?” Roxxie asks.
“Reason... I—” I look around me to see if any other tenders are peeking around the corner. Anytime someone mentions Axel’s name, everyone wants the tea, and I am not about to be put in the middle of some fake rumor or drama.
“I have a concern with a VIP,” I whisper.
“Follow me,” she snaps, turning on her heels like a drill sergeant.
She pulls back the red rope, allowing me to walk up the flight of stairs.
At the top is a long hallway with multiple doors.
She opens the first one on the left and allows me to step in.
I look around the large all-black room. The floors are marbled black, the walls are black.
No paintings. No decorations. Just one desk, one laptop and three chairs.
The lighting is dim, and the air is freezing cold.
I bet taking a nap in here is peaceful.
The chair behind the desk is facing out the window that shows the whole bottom floor of the club. I stand near the door as Roxxie walks up to the chair behind the desk, bending down to whisper.
“What?” Roxxie snaps, standing up straight. Her lips curve downward, and she crinkles her nose like she’s smelled something horrendous.
So she does have facial muscles?!
Her head turns toward me, then back to Axel, nodding once.
My throat closes as I watch her stomp my way.
Did I say something wrong? Why is she walking toward me?
What did Axel say? Am I being fired? What if he already knows what is going on?
All he does is sit in this office all day, watching everyone below him like some Greek god.
“Move,” Roxxie demands, standing right in front of my face.
I whip around, grabbing the door handle, and scurry out of the office. When I turn back around, Roxxie is still standing in the room.
“Are you going to talk to him or not?” She points over her shoulder to one of the chairs behind her, in front of Axel’s desk.
I widen my eyes, looking between her and the back of Axel’s chair, then make an ‘o’ with my lips.
I slowly walk into the office and sit in the chair at the front of his desk.
My body jumps at the sound of the door slamming behind me.
I turn my head over my shoulder to see Roxxie no longer in the room.
Lord, if I make it out alive from this meeting, I promise not to drink... I’ll settle down in a white picket fence house... I’ll go to church—
“VIP, huh?”
My jaw drops when the chair turns around to show me the man sitting in front of me.
I quickly close my mouth, darting my eyes around the office.
When I turn my gaze back to him, he stares at me, leaning back in his chair.
He has two different colored eyes. One of them looks black and the other eye is half black, half blue.
His dark hair is messy, cut into a modern mullet.
He has naturally tan skin with big pouty lips and a goatee, and the sound of his voice is like silk.
Is this why nobody is ever allowed to see him?
Because he could make anyone purr like a needy cat?
If any of the girls in this club saw him, they would be jumping his bones.
Me included. Sign me up. Fuck my “don’t shit where you eat” rule.
“Yes,” I cough up, slamming my eyes tight at the sound of my own voice. I sound like a twelve-year-old boy going through puberty in front of my very sexy boss. “Yes, I um... need to be on the floor.”
“Why?” he asks, leaning his elbows on his desk and interlocking his fingers.
“I like walking around and interacting with people.” I pull my shoulders back and lift my head up. I practiced this all night. I need to show my dominance and put my foot down.
He huffs, or maybe hums. Or was it a fucking chuckle? I don’t even know, but I can feel my sweat start to pile up near my hairline. I have strands sticking to the back of my neck and I’m rubbing my fingers raw on this leather chair.
“You are one of my top employees here, which shows on your paychecks. Does it not?” he questions.
“Yes sir, it’s just that—” I close my mouth before I finish that sentence.
I hate telling people I am in school. I hate telling people I need more money to afford to live in a brownstone with a roommate and go to law school.
I don’t want to be a seventy-five-year-old piled up in debt because I couldn’t tell my parents the truth.
“I have regulars who always request me. I don’t want to disappoint them.
” I can feel my eye twitch at the lie. This was not the dialogue I had planned in my head.
A smile breaks on Axel’s face, but not a sweet, lovely smile. It’s a smile that hyenas make when they are chasing their meal. He stands from his chair, and I notice his plain white T-shirt, dark jeans, and converse. For a man who makes millions, he sure doesn’t dress like it.
I tilt my head to the sky, because of course he towers over me. He stops walking and sits on top of his desk in front of me, our knees only inches apart, forcing me to push my chair back to give him some more leg space.
“You know, I am not a huge fan of liars.”
“I am not lying. I do have regulars—”
“But that’s not the reason you don’t want to be in VIP. You’re a smart girl, in law school, live in a decent home,” he interrupts.
Wait, how does he know all of this?
“Understand this, Miss Ballis, I can respect a bad decision, but I can’t respect a liar. So, I’ll ask you again. Why don’t you want to be in the VIP section?”
The taste of iron fills my mouth as I bite at my cheek. I take a moment before saying, “Being on the floor helps pay for school and—” I exhale, letting my shoulders fall. “Jace irritates me.”
A full laugh comes from the pit of Axel’s chest as he throws his head back.
When he finishes laughing at whatever he thought I said was funny—because I was not joking—he uses his fingers to pinch my chin before standing up and walking back behind his desk to sit in his chair.
I can feel my cheeks heat at the action he just did.
“Jace irritates everyone.” He interlocks his fingers again on his desk, leaning forward. “Now, if it’s money you are worried about, your school has already been funded for this year. If you need more, I can raise your paycheck to seventy-five dollars an hour but unfortunately, there—”
“Wait!” I interrupt, shaking my head and trying to rewind in my head what he just said. “I’m sorry, did you say my school was funded? I don’t understand.”
Axel squints his eyes, creating three deep lines on his forehead. He opens his laptop, typing, and turns the screen around for me to see my school account. Details show that seventy-seven thousand dollars was paid three days ago, and my current balance is zero.
Starring at the screen, I start babbling, “Did you pay for this? I can pay you back. I don’t understand. How did you even—”
He shakes his head back and forth, turning his laptop back to him.
“I’m guessing Jace didn’t inform you of this decision?
He requested you be in VIP every time he is here.
Now, I prefer my women happy and comfortable.
I know being in VIP means walking home with no cash.
So, as a result of you tending him every night with no cash, he offered to pay for your schooling and made me a business deal. ”
I can feel my heart beating out of my chest. I told Jace about me needing tips in private. I wasn’t asking for a fucking handout. I don’t need his help.
“I can still raise your paychecks, but I would need you to sign a new contact. I know Jace can be... interesting. But if there is no abuse—mentally, physically, or spiritually—I cannot have you back on the floor. I will need you in VIP until Jace requests otherwise. If he does decide to break the rules that he specifically knows of, or abuses this power, then you advise me, and I can make him disappear. Otherwise, have a good shift, Miss Ballis.”
As soon as he says my name, the door to his office opens behind me. Roxxie stands there, waiting for me to exit. I look back at Axel, his arms crossed against his chest, and he gives me a slight nod. I stand and walk out, passing Roxxie and going straight to the stairs.
I was in Axel’s office for less than half an hour.
The music is already blasting, and we have a full house.
Some girls are dragging men behind curtains, while others walk the floor with bottles in hand.
I zone out everything around me, my ears tuning out the music as I walk straight toward the locker room, needing to change into my heels.
“Hey baby, I didn’t see you at roll call,” Marge says, coming out of the liquor room holding two bottles.
“I was meeting with Axel.”
She follows me into the locker room. I open my locker and take off my slippers, sitting on the bench to lace up my heels.
“By the way you are slamming things... I’m assuming the meeting didn’t go well?”
I look around to see other tenders standing near the mirrors, adding layers of makeup.
“I’ll talk to you later,” I whisper and give Marge a hesitant smile.
I close my locker shut, turn the lock, and walk out the room straight to the platform.
I rip open the curtain to room five and find Jace in the same spot as last time with his head in his computer.
I stomp my feet on the ground all the way toward him.
As soon as he lifts his head to look at me, I raise my hand and slap him across the face.