Page 48 of Enzo

It took several deep breaths before she could stop her hands from shaking. She channeled every scene she ever saw on television of someone being sewn up and went to work.

"Will you do me next?"

Ven had walked to the bathroom door on silent feet. She hadn't even heard him come in. He pulled up his pants leg to show her several large gashes that were seeping blood.

"You're next."

She closed her eyes for a moment and gave thanks for the fact that she had her makeshift family for one more day.

Chapter Nineteen

Deja was sitting inThe Wolves' Den; the interviews were set to start at one, and now it was one-thirty. When Declyn heard about what she did, he looked at her then walked away, came back to look at her again, and then called Enzo to follow him. She could hear the loud voices and knew that Enzo was catching flack for what she did. That didn't stop her. Things needed to change for these males, and she was determined to help that change happen.

Maybe this wasn't the way. She checked her phone for the hundredth time before she decided that maybe it was time to admit defeat. It was two, and not one potential employee, male or female, had walked through that door. Declyn could be right; maybe Deja was one in a million, but she didn't feel that way. Closing her phone with her interview questions on it, she prepared to find Enzo.

"Hello?" The voice came from the doorway. There was a woman standing there looking uncertain of herself.

"Hi, welcome to The Wolves' Den." Deja caught the slight opening of the office door, which meant that Enzo and Declyn had come out but were both blending into the background so the female wouldn't see them.

"Come on over, take a seat. You're the first to show up. I'm Deja."

"I'm Jessie," the female walked over to shake her hand. Jessie stood about Deja's height with porcelain skin, black hair and blue eyes that knew pain. She also possessed an abundance of curves. If looks meant anything, she would do well here.

"Have a seat." Deja motioned to the chair with a small intimate table between them. "I have to tell you I was just about to give up."

"This may sound strange, but getting here was a problem. There were plenty of women standing on the street a couple of blocks away who said they were answering the same ad I was, but they didn't walk down the street. Most left thinking it was a joke. A few left because they didn't want to be singled out. They saw the street but were scared to walk down it. I need the job."

"I'm glad you came. What's your whole name? We don't have a formal application, so we will be doing things a little bit differently."

"That's fine by me. My name is Jessie S. Murphy, I'm twenty-five and live in Homewood, which isn't that far from here."

"Jessie, do you have experience being a waitress?"

"I've worked for several restaurants. I have references if you need them."

"Where did you last work?"

"Saul's. It's in the Waterfront."

"I've been there before; it's a good place to eat." Jessie smiled and nodded yes, briefly.

"How long were you there, Jessie?"

"I was there for a year. Fifteen months to be exact."

"Why did you leave?"

Jessie dropped her eyes and started playing with the arm of the chair. "I got pregnant and after a while, I couldn't work."

Deja felt her eyes go to Jessie's ring finger. It didn't matter if she was married, but it was an annoying habit she picked up from polite society.

"No ring," Jessie held up her hand. "Mia's dad was a hit it and quit it kind of guy. He took off, and I haven't seen him since. Not that you need to know all of that."

"I know a lot about men who aren't what they seemed like in the beginning. Jessie, the hours here are late. They run from eight pm to two am. Would you be able to work those hours?"

Jessie's teeth began to work her bottom lip as she thought over Deja's question. Who would watch Mia? Her mom had her right now, but that wouldn't work at night; her mom wasn't going to sit at home. Jessie knew that from growing up with her.

"Mia's one year old. The prettiest little girl you ever saw. She wouldn't be a problem because she'd be asleep. Maybe she could sleep in the back room; I could work, and after I get a paycheck or two, I could hire a sitter for her while I'm here..." Her voice trailed off because she knew businesses didn't work that way.

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