Tempted By The Mafia Boss

Mia

I didn’t go…

I couldn’t and I know that says a lot.

It says a lot considering death is in the cards for the future, and I didn’t show up to a job that could solve all my problems.

A hundred grand a year.

A hundred grand for my body.

That’s the part that gripped me because my body, and that shred of dignity is all that’s left of me. It’s the last thing I have left.

I woke up yesterday and I knew I couldn’t go back to The Dark Odyssey.

I couldn’t do it.

Anxiety took me and something that resembled reality kicked in and snapped me in gear, screaming at me, telling me I couldn’t take the job. I couldn’t be some kind of sex toy for a man I didn’t know. Fuck, I couldn’t be a sex toy whether I knew him or not.

It was off the table, and yes… even with all that I felt – the damn emotion I couldn’t quite understand that swept over me when I was with him.

Nick…

That’s his name. Nick.

It didn’t matter what I felt. I just couldn’t give up that last part of me.

So I decided to have hope that something would work out.

I was waiting to hear back from one last law firm. I hung on to hope that I would hear from them and that would be the answer to everything. My something good.

This morning I heard from them alright. I got the email from Barker LLP informing me that my application had been unsuccessful.

Rejected.

As I sat in the coffeehouse waiting for Chloe I read over the email again.

Dear Miss Chase,

Thank you for your impressive application. Our recruitment team was happy to receive such an application from a graduate of Harvard Law School.

However, it is with the deepest regret that we write to inform you that the position you applied for has now been filled.

I write personally to express my regret as the decision was very close but the other applicant had a few more years of experience in intellectual property and trademark law.

If we find ourselves in a position to offer a role of a similar degree, we won’t hesitate to contact you. We will be keeping your resume on file with the intention of doing so.

Thank you again for applying. We wish you the best of luck in your career endeavors.

Yours sincerely,

Peter Barker

The first thing I thought when I read the message this morning was that if things were okay with me I would have been over the moon happy to have gotten a personal response from Peter Barker, a renowned top attorney who owns the chain of Barker firms.

The email was bad news but it isn’t every day that a man of such importance takes the time to respond personally to an unsuccessful applicant.

My old college professor always said to take the bad with the good. A rejection is not always a bad thing. One’s like this said you made a lasting impression.

I kind of expected no less from the glowing resume and application I’d sent in for the junior associate position close to a month ago. I’m sure my references backed up my application.

I might not have finished my internship at Silvermans but I’m signed off because I was close and they knew my departure was because of Dad’s health. I was highly valued there and any references that come from them will be glowing.

None of it, however, will help me much now.

Bad enough to get the rejection yesterday but I’ve been on edge for the whole day, not knowing what to do.

The only thing left hanging in the air for me as an option is working for Nick.

Nick Giordano.

When I went home after the truly scandalous sexual encounter, I went straight to Google and looked him up. I looked up the whole club as my brain tried to grab some reasoning to make it right. It felt like it had to be more than just helping with the financial situation. The financial situation was enough but I needed more. After all it was my body in question.

The man wanted my body or me to do what we did when we first met. For a hundred grand.

Christ… I had to push that out of my mind all of yesterday, and I hoped that I would hear something positive from Barkers. It was the last firm I’d applied to, and the only one I hadn’t heard back from.

I’d figured no news was good news, or rather it was something that could be hopeful because no decision had been made yet.

That was what I was thinking. Until this morning when I got the email with the dreaded rejection.

The door to the coffee house opens and it makes a little jingle. I lift my head and see Chloe walk in. She looks like a million dollars, or at the very least like some high fashion model walking the path like she’s on the runway.

The blunt bob she has her jet black hair cut in works perfectly to accentuate her high cheekbones that she’s enhanced with this season’s Dior highlighter. My best friend looks amazing and I can’t say I’m not a little bit jealous. It feels like forever since I was able to do anything like shopping for make-up or clothes.This text is property of Nô/velD/rama.Org.

It feels like forever since I was able to stop or have a break from the worries and stress. I just want a few moments. That’s all, but it’s too much to ask.

Chloe’s smile brightens as she approaches me and all eyes follow her in her procession. Eyes are still on her when she gives me a big hug and lowers to sit.

The fact that she’s not paying attention to the guy in the corner who’s practically breaking his neck to look at her tells me she’s totally into Sal, because she doesn’t notice him. She doesn’t notice a guy that’s a dead ringer for Brad Pitt when he was in ‘Fight Club’. It says a lot.

I can’t resist the little smile that pulls at the corners of my mouth.

“How are you?” she asks first.

I place my hands on the table and warm my fingers against the mug of hot chocolate I’d ordered on arrival.

I’m not sure how to answer that.

Chloe bites the inside of her lip and pulls her chair closer to the table.

“Okay,” she pulls in a breath and presses her lips together. “Looks like there’s a whole bunch of stuff going on in that blond head of yours Mia. Spill it sister.”

I purposely didn’t speak to her yesterday, or all of today.

We’d already agreed to meet tonight a few days ago. She also didn’t know that I went to The Dark Odyssey. She gave me the details, told me about the job and to give Sal’s name but I never said I’d go, or when I’d go. This meet up is our regular weekly touch-base session we’d started a while back.

I release the breath I’m holding onto and prep to recount the tale, the saga the last few days held for me. I think to start somewhere close to the beginning, like how I went to the club the night before I braved the task of going inside, and that was just after we’d spoken on the phone.

But I don’t start there. I cut to the chase.

“I went. I went to The Dark Odyssey,” I announce and that good old lump forms in my throat.

I’m actually amazed that she didn’t guess that I wanted to talk in private from where we’re sitting. It’s the furthest booth in the coffeehouse. Away from everyone. The closest person to us is about twenty feet away. No one can hear what I’m about to tell her.

As if on cue she realizes, but her eyes had already turned to saucers from my declaration.

“My God, you actually went?” She keeps her voice down low. For her that’s a big thing, given she’s the loudest, most blasé girl in our group of friends. There are four of us. Miranda and Kelly are actual sisters, and Chloe and me are as close as sisters could be. That’s why I talk to her about everything, and I mean everything.

It never mattered that at one point in our lives we were at opposite ends of the country, we talked practically every day. We still talk just as much and nothing has changed since we met in elementary school when we were twelve.

We’ve been best friends that whole time. We’re both twenty-six now and we still tell each other everything. I won’t break tradition tonight.

“I went and I … applied for the job…” Applied? Was that what I was calling it?

She looks at me though like she knows what I mean by the term.

“You got it didn’t you?” She nods, and looks worried.

“I did.”

“Did Mimi show you the ropes. I mean. I know it’s not ideal and please don’t hate me. I know it’s not your thing. The money is really good though, and they pay an advance if you need it.”

She had me at Mimi. “I didn’t see a Mimi.”

She narrows her eyes at me. “Mimi does the interviews and shows all the girls what to do. You didn’t see Mimi?”

“No,” panic definitely rises in my throat. “I saw Nick Giordano. I saw him and what happened was…” my cheeks burn and the dryness comes back to my throat from the memory, but… I’m more concerned with the way Chloe sucks in a sharp breath and practically bolts upright with very wide eyes.

“Mia, hold up… you saw who?” Her lips part.

“Nickoli Giordano, as in one of the five who own the club, as in Giordano mobsters.”

She places a hand to her heart and swallows hard. “Mia, tell me exactly what happened. All of it.”

Why do I think she already knows what happened to me? Or has some idea. She’s looking at me like she does and when I tell her all that happened, she doesn’t look as surprised as I thought she would. She looks scared.

“Okay, what? You have to tell me. Chloe, you know I wouldn’t have gone somewhere like that if I wasn’t desperate. Clearly I’m not doing the job because I’m here again and tonight would be night two.” It was six o’clock so I would presumably have to be there again for seven. Except I was going straight to my house to help Beth with her homework and to help Dad plant some runner beans in the garden. The doctors said it would help his blood pressure to do anything like that. So no, I wouldn’t be going to any form of sex club tonight.

“Mia, the bosses don’t usually interview the waitresses. Yes … the waitresses there are a main attraction but the ones the bosses pick are considered … well… property.”

I swallow hard as I take in her words. Property… as if I didn’t feel bad enough as it was.

“Property?”

“Yeah. I mean … I know again it’s not your thing and you probably don’t get it but in their world it’s an honor of sorts. Those guys operate differently, especially with the club, as you can imagine. And, also the other waitresses don’t have the starting salary you were quoted.”

My eyes cling to hers. It’s not relevant now because I’m not doing it but I want to know. “How much do they get?”

“A little over thirty a year. It’s still plenty for the few hours you do. It’s what they have to do though.”

I get that. I already thought of that part.

I bring my hands together and think. No, not about the club or Nick or what he was offering. I think about the situation.

I think about how screwed I am and I’m so alone in this.

Chloe reaches out and covers my hands with hers.

“Mia, what are you going to do?”

I shake my head. “I don’t know. I can’t work there Chloe. I don’t want to feel like I’m selling my body, or using my body for money. It’s all I have left.”

“It’s not like that, you know. As far as I know for the other waitresses the most they do is have to serve a bunch of guys topless. Anything else that happens is stuff they initiate themselves. Nothing happens to force you into something you don’t want to do. That’s the normal. I can’t say what might happen if you were to be Nick’s personal waitress, however. As far as I know, what happened to you doesn’t tend to occur. Much.”

“So, what would you do?” I ask her. Chloe is into advertising. She works for a big marketing and advertising company on Main and they’re big in the sense that they run campaigns for the likes of Nike and other brands like that. She’s living her dream. However, if that weren’t the case, I think I totally know what her answer would be.

“Mia, that’s not a question that would be comparable to what you would do. I’m okay with stuff like that and shit, you’re talking about Nickoli Giordano. I wouldn’t say no to a man like that. What worries me is who he is. It’s what worries me for you, but like you say you won’t do it. So I guess it’s not a worry then right?” She lifts her shoulder into a sassy shrug.

I’m not doing it and I knew what her answer would be and now I’m thinking I must be crazy. A hundred grand. It’s a hundred grand a year, and fuck, they offer an advance.

I take a deep breath and scan over everything in my mind.

She squeezes my hands again and nods. “I get it Mia. I get it, and hey, maybe I would be the same in thinking I’m selling my body. That’s kind of not what I expected would happen but it does seem that way.” She releases me and reaches into her bag.

I’m shaking my head even before she pulls out the check and holds it out for me to take.

“No, Chloe no.”

She chuckles, takes my hand and shoves it into my palms. “Fucking hell Mia, yes. You’re taking it. You are taking it and you will not give it back to me.”

I glance down at it and see that it’s five grand. Enough to cover two months loan payments to Hector and pay the bills.

Chloe just gave me five grand to keep. A tear pulls at the corners of my eye and runs down my cheek. I get up before she does and move closer to hug her with all the gratitude I could possibly feel.

“Thank you. Thank you so much,” I can’t hold back the tears. They come fast and hard.

She holds me close and pats my back. “You’re welcome Mia. I figured it could buy you some time. A few more months. I wish it was more.”

I move back and shake my head. “No, it’s enough, it’s more than enough and I’m so grateful. Thanks so much.”

When the shit first happened Chloe gave me twenty grand. That was to help pay for Dad’s surgery. I had fifty grand in savings and we were able to get five from a business loan. Dad needed multiple surgeries on his heart and he had to spend five weeks in hospital and two weeks in a rehab center before he could come home. All that time it cost us. It cost us big time with no insurance.

Dad’s health took that turn for the worse just after he’d saved Carter from Hector. I never knew about any of it until it was in full bloom. He’d remortgaged the house to get the bulk of the money, leaving behind a hundred and twenty grand to pay back. It was originally five hundred. The current balance was exactly a hundred grand. Still a shit load of money.

Dad gave all that he had to save Carter’s life and left himself with nothing, not knowing the future would see him with no means to pay anything back with his inability to work and practically close business down. The payments so far to Hector have been made by the remainder of my savings. Basically, what wasn’t spent on hospital bills and bills for the house.

My original plan was to buy a home in L. A. Of course the dire situation was more important than that. It was another dream tossed by the wayside.

My family went through so much, and those who were there for us were friends. No sign of Carter at all. Nope. I haven’t seen him in the last six years. Not hide nor hair.

Prick.

Dad was the only one in touch with him which was fine since I never want to see Carter again.

I’ve written him off.

“It’s going to be okay. It will. You’ll find work and it will be fine.” Chloe nods with determination.

“I hope so.” We might have told each other everything but I’d admittedly held off on telling her that for the last two weeks things were so bad I’d taken to eating bread and butter so Beth and Dad could have the majority of the food in the house. My hot chocolate today was purchased with an old loyalty card I found in my purse.

Some things you just don’t share. I truly do hope things will get better.

Chloe starts telling me about Sal and the change of subject is most welcome. While I might have been stunned by my little adventure at The Dark Odyssey, I didn’t mind hearing about hers. She was there a few nights ago with Sal and apparently they left and decided to go for a movie and dinner near the river. Things sounded like they were definitely getting serious between them.

She tells me more about Sal and what he does for work. He’s an investment banker and handles a lot of the shipping contracts for the Giordanos. I guess that was why his name carried such weight.

Chloe and I talk for close to three hours.

It’s nearly nine when I leave her and venture home. I didn’t mean to stay out so late. I guess I’ll be rearranging my homework schedule with Beth and gardening with Dad.

I get home in fifteen minutes and the minute I see the black Sedan parked outside, I know something’s wrong.

I don’t park in my usual spot, the sight of the car makes me park on the curb, jump out and make a run to the house.

My heart slams inside my chest as I see Dad and Beth kneeling on the floor in the living room while Hector Ramirez holds his gun on both of them.