Chapter 3
Bonnie
I step into the swanky interior of the Empire nightclub on Fifth Avenue and immediately appreciate the beauty and ambiance of the place.
I took a cab tonight because I didn’t want to deal with the hassle of parking, and the valet would not be as eager to park my motorbike as they would with their other customers with tidy Bentleys and Lamborghinis.
I take a deep breath, stemming the small ripple of discomfort that settles in my gut. It’s not that I don’t like nice things or money.
Actually, I love them, which is where the problem lies.
I grew up under the heavy, oppressive thumb of the Harmonia Sect, an exclusive, little-known, New Religious movement my father converted into a few years after I was born.
The Sect loves to repeatedly warn its followers that “ the allure of wealth nurtures the seeds of sin .”
By the time I turned ten, my father had become one of the highly respected “masters” of the Sect, so I was well-versed in the tenets of our strange faith.
New converts were made to give up their expensive possessions. Even as a teenager, seeing people sell off their cars and houses in favor of seedy apartments and bicycles made me sick, but I dared not question the tenets and risk reproach to my parents.
So, I avoided luxury like a devout, little Harmonial.
My first real interaction with wealth was in high school. Jake Tyler, the star of the rugby team and the most popular guy in school. His father owned a chain of pharmacies- hundreds of them- across Ireland.
My crush on Jake Tyler was a rebellion in itself, and for me, the fact that it was expressly forbidden to fantasize about someone you were not married to made Jake all the more irresistible.
It turned out that the Sect was right on the allure of wealth because my crush on the rich kid became the worst disaster of my life, and it set into motion the series of events that continue to shape my reality today.
So, although I am no longer a practicing Harmonial, I make it a point to avoid wealthy people. Which so far, isn’t going great.
I met Sabrina a little over a year ago when I did security work for her art gallery’s website. I thought she was sweet and super talented, and we instantly connected. Little did I know that along with Sabrina came the billionaire Jordan Farrington, CEO of Apex Energy and a partner at Acercraft Group. I couldn’t very well stop speaking to the girl at that point.
I was just getting used to Sabrina when I met Brooke in Cancun three months ago, only for her to go on to marry Xavier, a real estate multibillionaire who owns this very hotel and nightclub.
Money always seems to find ye, Siobhán , and what makes it worse is that it always comes with a man attached to it.
I shake off memories of my father’s disapproving tone. I hate that he always seems to be right.
Well, he’s only half right this time. I’ve nothing to do with those men apart from being friends with their wives.
Besides, I have my third friend Stella, who is a regular girl like me.
We planned tonight’s hang-out to get the scoop on Brooke’s just concluded four-week luxury honeymoon cruise, and to share my news with the girls.
Only, Sabrina isn’t coming tonight, as she’s not quite feeling up to a night out yet, too exhausted from the early pregnancy symptoms and her busy gallery.
As soon as I step in, a man dressed in a black t-shirt hands me the shiny access card to the VIP area, where I head over to wait for my friends in our usual spot in a secluded area of the club.
There are other small groups of people sitting in the section, and the music here is muted and slower, with a few couples swaying on the dance floor.
Knowing that I’ll be waiting some time for the girls because I’ve arrived earlier than planned, I order the first round of drinks, getting the usual margarita for Stella and me and sparkling water for Brooke.
Brooke lives closest to this place, on the Upper West Side, but she’s also now around five months pregnant, so everything she does seems to be in slow motion these days.
Stella’s Brooklyn apartment is about half an hour away, but the girl being a busy celebrity stylist, is probably already somewhere in the city right now.
I think back on my conversation with Jordan yesterday.
He’d called me yesterday, inviting me for an interview with Acercraft. They’re looking for mid-level candidates with vast experience in software and web development and are offering great perks and the potential for career progression.
It’s a great fit, but I’d said no straight away. The obvious reason is that with Acercraft comes Ethan Hawthorne, the guy who looks at me like I might be a pesky fly he’d like to swat.
The other reason is that I’ve never worked with a client as prominent as Acercraft. But this time, Acercraft wouldn’t just be a client; they’d be my employer, getting exclusive rights to my creative mind for the first few years of our contract.
My clients usually find me through word of mouth and from my WebLinker portfolio, which showcases the hundreds of successful projects I’ve done. I’ve got a good following there.
If I go with Acercraft, I’ll lose my client base.
However, I would gain unprecedented experience and networking opportunities far beyond my current client base.
Still, I’d said no.
While I’m still waiting for the others to arrive, I take out my phone and re-read the message he sent me after our conversation.
Jordan: Why don’t you sleep on it and let me know your final answer tomorrow? Don’t stress, Bonnie, it’s only an interview. Most people fail it, anyway, so don’t worry. In all likelihood, nothing will come of it ;)
Jordan is so devious. I’m sure he threw that last part in as a challenge. Or is it true? Could it really be harder than what I do on a daily basis as a freelancer? My interest is piqued, but still.
Working with Ethan Hawthorne? Hard pass .
I was careful to avoid him at Brooke’s wedding because, since Cancun, he’s been like a virus in my brain.
I find myself replaying our conversations, wondering why he dislikes me and how it is that he awoke sensations in me that had been locked away for years.
Which apparently have gone back into hibernation because I haven’t been able to get that sexually aroused again.
And I tried. Multiple times.
Nothing.
I even tried sleeping with a big, nerdy guy with glasses. Now, that particular outcome was not only disastrous, it was hilarious.
I imagine working in the same building as him. Would it worsen my obsessive thinking about him? Or would it do the opposite and desensitize me? Do I even want to find out?
I look up as Stella breezes in, her platinum-blonde wavy bob sexily mused, but otherwise, she looks like her usual gorgeous self.
“Hey babe, sorry I’m late. I don’t even have an excuse this time, but I love you, and that should count,” she says as she plops down on the seat.
I smile, impressed. Stella’s timing is so shitty that ten minutes late is early for her. “You’re actually getting better. It’s only been a few minutes, Stella, I think you’ve broken your record.”
“Oh, really! I thought we said nine.” Stella looks almost regretful.
“No, we agreed on ten,” I laugh. “Well, you could always go back outside to wait so you can be properly late. Brooke isn’t even here yet.”
“Nah, I’ll let the record show I got here early today.” She takes a sip of her margarita. “So, what’s good? When you said you had some news, I knew I couldn’t miss this meet-up, not even if the world was ending.”
“Pure flattery” I scoff, although I’m loving it. “I know you can’t wait for the honeymoon gist.”
“No, I’m serious Bonnie. I’m sure Brooke’s honeymoon was super awesome, but this is just as big babe.”
“What do you mean?”
“Bonnie look, you’re so giving. You literally give up anything for your friends, but getting you to say anything about yourself is like trying to pull teeth. With a noodle.” She finishes.
A bolt of anxiety hits me. I’m not good at talking about personal things. And it’s usually at this point that my friendships and relationships hit the rocks. The inevitable point where they start to ask for more.
Of course, I’d like to be able to just casually slip personal details into conversations and talk about my parents, or growing up, or high school or college days, an ex, or sex or even a childhood friend… like a normal person would.
Only I can’t. Because none of my experiences in any one of those areas was normal. In fact they were so far from normal that they’re likely to traumatize my nice friends. Or have them to treat me differently to how they do right now.
So I try not to let my past collide with my present, which is why I never talk about personal stuff.
“And that’s not a bad thing Bonnie,” she adds quickly, no doubt noting how quiet I’ve gone. “It’s just that we’re running over each other for any opportunity to be there for you, so when you said you had something to tell us we were excited.”
“Anyway," she says, "shoot. What’s the news or do you want to wait for Brooke?”
I shake my head. “Not it’s fine, I’ll tell Brooke again.”
Although I love Brooke’s kindness and her way of lending perspective to a situation, I’m grateful it’s just Stella right now. She’ll give it to me straight.
“Jordan offered me a job. Actually, that’s not true, it’s not a job; he only invited me to an interview.”
Stella’s eyebrow rises. “At the oil and gas company?”
“No, the other one, Acercraft. The online gaming platform.”
“Oh, yeah, okay. That’s more your vibe, right?”
“Yes, software development, cyber security, debugging, API integrations…”
“Stop, stop, you’re giving me vertigo!” Stella chuckles.
As a celebrity stylist and a social media influencer, she’s very good at image manipulation and social media marketing but doesn’t want to know anything else about technology and how it operates.
“I know, sorry.”
“Bottom line, is it good? The offer, I mean.”
“It’s the best, Stella. It’s a job that I would be too intimidated to apply for a year ago.”
Since building Sabrina’s website free of charge last year, demand for my work has gone through the roof. “I wouldn’t have heard about it, anyway, since it’s only being advertised through specific agents.”
“Like when a model’s agent gets them contracts while the other ones without representation struggle to be seen?” Stella asks
“Exactly.”
“Nice! So, you’re not only sensational at what you do, you’re also well-connected. Look at you getting personally invited by the CEO himself!”
“Thanks,” I reply. All the while, my father’s voice in my head cruelly whispers, You’re only getting this opportunity because of your connection to a billionaire.
He’s my friend’s husband!
Still not good. Slippery slope, Siobhán.
I shake off the annoying, judgy voice. It’s a great offer, on paper at least, whether it’s due to my connections or not.
“What are you thinking?” Stella asks after seeing the conflicted expression on my face.
“Nothing. It’s just, what makes this offer even better is that Sabrina is pregnant.”
“Really!”
“With twins.”
“Holy crap! Twins! That’s…wow.” She chuckles, shaking her head in amazement. “That’s quite a lot.”
“You can say that again.”
“But I don’t see how that has anything to do with you taking the job—“
“Not job, interview!” I remind her.
“Right. ‘Interview,’” Stella air quotes.
“Okay.” I sit up straighter. “Here’s what I’m thinking. I know for a fact that Jordan needs to take a step back from Acercraft. He has way too much on his plate. It’s also not been the easiest pregnancy for Sabrina.
Now, Jordan didn’t tell me he’s stepping back, but from the job description and what I know of his life, I think he’s looking for someone or a group of people to train up.”
“Hey, that’s awesome, Bonnie! Imagine Jordan training you to become CEO. I think this opportunity is great for your career.”
“Er, Stella, I wouldn’t stretch it that far.”
“I would, girl, you’re amazing. And I’ve always said women make the sexiest bosses. Imagine you in those fuck-me heels, snapping—“
“Hold up.” Once Stella starts, it’s hard to stop her. “I’m not sure I’ll go for the interview, though.”
“What? Why not?” Her face scrunching up in confusion, Stella eyes me like I’ve grown a second head.
“I’m worried about Ethan. You know he’s managing partner, CEO, whatever they call it. He’s there. He owns it just as much as Jordan does.”
I had to tell Stella about Ethan last month at Brooke’s wedding when she kept asking about the bespectacled hunk who was scowling at us as though my date had stolen his prey. I’d assured her that it was disgust and not desire coming through those glasses.
“You don’t think you’d get along with him?” Stella asks.
“That’s my worry. If I can’t stand him as a person, I don’t think I’d be able to tolerate him as a boss. And the feeling is quite mutual.”
Probably stronger on his side, I think glumly.
“Is he really that bad? I mean, he can’t be on Ryan’s level, for example.”
“Oh, no, Ryan’s unhinged, I know, but Ethan… he’s just…he’s too…” I struggle for words.
“Too what?”
“Too contained. And disapproving. And judgy. And scathing.”
And it doesn’t matter one bit that somehow, in less than twenty seconds, he got me wetter than I’ve ever been in my entire life.
Brooke finally walks in, looking way too hot for a pregnant lady, her ash blonde hair in a sleek ponytail. “Darlings, I’m so sorry, I lost track of time—“
“Yeah, lucky bitch, Xavier finally let you out of bed,” Stella quips. “How was the honeymoon?”
“Oh,” she sighs, dropping gingerly into the plush chair. “It. Was. Breathtaking. I’ll tell you girls all about it in a sec. But first, Bonnie, you said you had some news?” She grabs the bottle of water I ordered for her and takes a sip.
“Yes, she got a job,” Stella replies for me.
“Not a job, it’s just an interview—“ I try to explain, only to be interrupted by Stella again.
“Yeah, same thing. But it’s at Acercraft, Brooke! And from the looks of things, Bonnie could hold a top position soon.” At Brooke’s confused look, she explains, “It seems Jordan might be step—“
I throw my hands in the air. “Hey, I just told you this five seconds ago, Stella, and now, you’re acting like you wrote the entire script!” I haven’t met anyone who loves a good gossip session as much as Stella does.
She only blows me a kiss. “You know I can’t resist telling a good story. Besides, you won’t say it with the same flair as me.”
Brooke takes another swig of her sparkling water. “That’s true, Bonnie. Stella missed her calling as a news reporter.”
I shake my head. “Nah, they’d kick her out for being way too smug and having a ridiculous amount of fun dissipating gossip so she’d end up starting her own Ask Aunt Stella talk show.”
“Where jilted, naked men would be at each other’s throats while their women sip tea and watch as their muscles ripple,” Brooke adds.
“Okay, okay! Guys, I get it. Bonnie, have your say.” Stella makes a zipping motion across her mouth.
We all laugh. “Anyway, so Jordan called me out of the blue yesterday, asking me to attend an interview at Acercraft. And yes,” I say as I lower my voice, “Jordan might be taking a step back—you didn’t hear it from me, though.”
“Bonnie, that’s fantastic! Is the thing with Ethan squashed then?” Brooke questions.
“Not really. But maybe it is? We didn’t speak at your wedding. So, I’d say it’s more like cold indifference rather than the raging animosity of Cancun.”
“I see. So, would it be like an office job? You wouldn’t be working from home, would you?”
“Um, no, it sounds like I’ll have to go on a daily, or at least an almost daily, basis,” I clarify.
She rubs her chin thoughtfully. “Well, all things considered, it may be worth the sacrifice. Good for you, Bonnie.”
Stella and I look at each other and then at her. Stella, like me, is self-employed and has never had an office-based job.
“Sacrifice? What does that mean?” I ask.
“It means, Bonnie, you’ll have to play by someone else’s rules while on their time. When you start work, when you finish, and, to an extent, what you wear has to conform to the image they’re trying to project.”
She looks pointedly at my tube top, skinny jeans, and spiked, leather jacket, which isn’t the most appropriate for the December chill, but my style is my style.
I marvel at how much Brooke already knows about me in the short period we’ve been friends, specifically about me wanting to play by my own rules. I’m still digesting the part about workplace constraints when she adds, “And when Ethan or Jordan says jump, you’ll have to say ‘how high?’”
I sputter into my drink, almost choking. Stella bursts out laughing.
“Hell to the fuck no!” I declare
“I knew you’d say just that!” Brooke joins Stella in laughter. “Actually, it’s not as bad as it sounds. It’s more like they will ask nicely, and you’ll have the power to say no, but essentially, that’s the bottom line. The bosses call the shots. Think of velvet-encased steel,” Brooke says after she stops laughing.
“Sounds like hell,” I say with a deadpan expression.
“But look on the bright side, you’ll no longer have to think or do all the legwork before money comes in. You’ll make friends, learn a lot from being in a team, you’ll get promoted regularly. And get this—paid holidays. Sick and maternity leave.” She places a hand on her swollen belly. “What do you think?”
“It sounds like being a submissive,” Stella announces.
“Only you, Stella, would compare having a job to a sexual preference. Don’t listen to her, Bonnie.”
“But Stella’s right, though. I might as well get collared,” I argue.
“So, how would you like your pain today, little one?” Stella’s dom baritone is so ridiculous that we both cackle loudly while Brooke only shakes her head.
I wouldn’t call myself a dominant, I just like my men a little… docile. I like to be on top, looking down as I fuck their brains out, waiting for that moment of perfect vulnerability to flash across their faces.
I don’t get any physical pleasure from having sex. The only pleasure I get is the mental satisfaction, the knowledge that as a man unravels in orgasm, I’m responsible for it. In that moment, I’m Aphrodite, and he’s my supplicant, enraptured in worship.
“I’ll have you know, girls”, Brooke interrupts my musing, “I happen to love my job and enjoy working for my boss.” Brooke is an elementary school teacher and rarely ever complains about the kids or her colleagues.
“Stockholm syndrome, anyone? I wonder if that’s where the whole ‘collared job’ came from?” Stella is on a roll.
“Now you’re just being dramatic, Stella. Bonnie, it’s not that bad, I promise. Stella hasn’t even worked in an office before.”
“Thanks Brooke, for the clarity, as always. I’m not sure I’m ready for it, and I’d like to hang on to my freedom for now. Did you know that Jordan told me right off the bat that Acercraft would have exclusive rights to my work, so all my clients will either have to come under Acercraft or I’ll lose them? There’ll be no side gigs.” I shudder just thinking about it.
Stella cocks her head as if to say “see what I mean,” but she doesn’t say anymore. She doesn’t need to. I already know what she thinks of this Acercraft job interview.
“Okay,” Brooke says. “I’ll just mention one more thing, and whatever you decide, you’ll have our full support right, Stella?”
Stella nods.
“Acercraft is a really big deal, hon. And if, as you said, your job is to ultimately replace Jordan, I’d say it’s worth a shot. Being a top executive at a multibillion-dollar company has to be worth the hassle.”
I consider that point. I would be making my own money, and lots of it. And I wouldn’t need to be ‘found’ by money, as my father often put it. I’d be the money.
Now, wouldn’t that be something?
“What have you got to lose? It’s just an interview. You might not even be selected. And if you are, you can always say no. Even if you do decide to work there, it’s not like you’d be sharing the same office with Ethan, is it?”
Brooke is right.
I remember Jordan’s text: “most people fail it, anyway.”
“Okay. Okay. I might go for the interview. I’ll keep you guys posted,” I say, more than ready for a new topic of conversation. Brooke beams, but Stella only shrugs. I don’t think there’s any coming back from the “no longer calling the shots” situation for her.
“Now, enough about me. Let’s get to the juicy part. Brooke, tell us about your disgustingly raunchy, sexy, luxurious honeymoon!” I playfully nudge her.
“I’ll do you one better.” Taking out her phone, she starts to scroll down for photos and videos. “I’ll show y’all!”
For the next couple of hours, our corner is filled with gasps, squeals, and excited chatter.
I put off telling Jordan for another day.
It was great to get clarity from the girls, and I finally decided I would go for the interview, but I wanted to give it a few more hours before taking the next step.
Things that appear to be a great idea during a night out with cocktails often become ludicrous in the light of day.
It’s ten o’clock on Sunday morning, and I’m sitting in my kitchen after my second cup of coffee. I still haven’t changed my mind, so I call him.
“Hello, Bonnie!” I hear noises in the background.
“Hi, did I catch you at a bad time?”
“I’m on my way out of town, just about to hop on the jet, but it’s always a great time for good news.”
“What good news?” I question.
“That you changed your mind, of course!”
Seeing an opportunity to mess with him, I jump on it. “Actually, no–”
“Really?” Jordan interrupts, his tone filled with disappointment.
“I’m kidding! I decided to attend the interview, but I’ll have you know that it was after a lot of arm-twisting from my friends.”
“They sound like sensible friends; keep them,” he replies.
I only laugh.
“Seriously, you made a good decision, Bonnie.”
I hope so. “So, did you need a resume or something?”
I dread having to submit resumes. My education doesn’t come across as great on paper when compared to others with shiny degrees from prestigious colleges, but my skills and creativity more than make up for it.
Unfortunately, a resume is often the factor that determines if you get a foot in or have the door slammed in your face.
“No, someone from IT will call to go through the preliminaries with you. His name’s Sajid. It’s just an informal chat, we won’t be assessing you on that, so don’t stress. Once that’s out of the way, he’ll email you other requirements to get you properly set up.”
“Sounds good.”
“And can I check that you’re fine with real-time demo interviews?”
Seriously? I don’t want to brag, so I simply say, “Yeah, I can do those.”
“Sweet. In the meantime, if you have any questions, you can text me or Sajid.”
“Alright, thanks, Jordan.”
“No, Bonnie. Thank you,” he says and I disconnect.
That wasn’t too bad for a boss, now was it?
Is it going to be too much to ask that Ethan Hawthorne and Mike Waldrow and all the other fifty thousand and one bosses I’ll have at Acercraft have the same sunny disposition?