Page 11 of Sweet Little Thing

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 completelybefuddled. 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. Fillthem 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.

Chapter

Ten

Beulah

Portia was sitting in the great room when I got home after eight. She looked at me with the same expression she’d had earlier today. Portia hadn’t expected any of this when looking forward to Jasper’s brief visit. I wondered if she wished he’d never come. I imagine that was what she thought about as she fretted in various rooms of the house, drinking and angry and worried.

“What will you do?” she asked. She didn’t look at me, her stare vainly fixed on her manicured nails and their color.

“I’m going to work nights. I got a job at a club. It won’t make up the four thousand more that Heidi needs, so I’ll have to talk to them about a cheaper room or possible payments or. . .”

“She can share a room for four thousand a month,” Portia interrupted, lifting her head to look at me. “But that’s still more than you can manage. How long do you think you can work two jobs? What happens when Jasper has late parties? Or needs something else in the evening?”

She could share a room. I could afford that with this extra job. But my brief moment of relief instantly faded from the other things she’d said. I hadn’t thought of Jasper’s late parties or if he needed me to do anything at night.

“Are we keeping Heidi a secret from him. . .I mean, ah, on purpose? Not that he should feel obligated to help me pay for her care. But maybe he would understand my need for a second job if I told him?”

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