Page 10 of House of Deceit

Tank’s name lights up my phone as I whip my towel off and stride naked into my impressive closet.

“Hey, man. We are going to be leaving here in about fifteen minutes to pick up Georgia. Are you still down? Work hasn’t locked you up, has it?”

“No, I’m good,” I tell him. To keep things simple, I grab a black t-shirt, bomber jacket, and black jeans to wear tonight. “I should leave here around the same time you do.”

“Awesome. We’ll see you there. And don’t bring the bike.”

“I wasn’t planning on it, but now that makes me want to.”

“It scares Lorelei when she sees you riding it.”

Lorelei, God bless her, took on the role of my mother when ours died, even though I am older. I let her do it because it makes her feel better and sometimes it’s nice to have someone worry about me.

“Fine, I won’t ride the bike. You’re welcome.”

“See you soon.”

I end the call, grab some boxer briefs out of my drawer and get dressed. The all-black look can be boring, but during filming, this is my unofficial uniform. I spray on some cologne and head out the door, grabbing the keys to my SUV in deference to my sister’s sensibilities.

I give myself a pep talk as I pull up in front of the restaurant. With Tank’s celebrity status as the greatest tight end in the league, we can get into most places at the drop of a hat. I exit the car as the valet holds the door open for me, handing me a ticket as I walk by, and I thank him.

“Lore, beautiful as always,” I say, as I join my sister and Tank in front of the restaurant, pressing a kiss to her cheek. I clap Tank on the back briefly before turning my attention to the stunner standing to the side. “And you must be Georgia. I’m Alec.” I offer my hand and she takes it, looking me up and down hungrily.

“Charmed, I’m sure.” She gives me a wink and adjusts her dress, making sure her ample breasts grab my attention. I wet my bottom lip, thinking about how her dress will look on my floor later. My sister takes Tank’s arm and turns toward the restaurant. I put mine out for Georgia and she takes it eagerly.

“Dinner should be great. I’ve heard this place has amazing reviews,” I say, trying to start some small talk.

“I’m sure it’ll be fine. The after-dinner dessert, though, is much more important to me.” I smile at her as she squeezes my arm and begin counting down the minutes until her mile long legs will be wrapped around my face.

“Last question. Why do you want this job?” Arnold asks. His red shirt and khakis are pressed to within an inch of their life.

“Well, to be completely honest with you, I need money.” After two months of almost no responses to my job applications, desperation has taken hold. While I have managed to pay all my bills on time, I’m down to my last hundred dollars, with rent due in two weeks.

“Well, Charlotte—”

“You can call me Charlie,” I repeat for the third time.

“—we like our associates to have a passion for retail and the customer experience.” I wait, making sure he’s finished as I remember a supermarket job I had in college where I watched two ladies get into a fistfight over some oat milk while an employee stood by and recorded the scene on their phone.

“I have a passion for paying my bills, so if that means I need to have a passion for retail and the customer experience, count me in.”

“Right.” He stands from his chair in the cramped office and extends his hand. “We’ll review this and get back to you in a few days.”

I grab his hand and thank him for his time. My heels click against the linoleum floor as I make my way to the front door. Flinging my purse into the passenger seat, I settle into my car as my phone rings.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Charlotte? This is Arnold at the Pop ‘n Shop, and I wanted to let you know that while we are excited about your experience, we have chosen not to move forward with your candidacy at this time. We appreciate the time you put into meeting with us today and wish you the best of luck in your job hunt.”

“Great, thanks for the call.” I hang up the phone without waiting to hear if he has anything else to say. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” I say, slamming my head down to the steering wheel, accidentally honking the horn.

Dejected, I turn on my car and head straight for my parents’. I know Mom will finish dinner soon. They were always early eaters, and I can get away with a free meal.

“Who’s there?” Mom calls out from the kitchen.

“It’s your daughter.”

She pokes her head out of the kitchen. “Charlotte? Were we expecting you?”

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