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The billionaire looks me up and down for a few seconds. Then he orders me to get dressed. I am so nervous that I forget where my clothes are located. I stumble around the office gathering my bra, my thong, my dress and my blouse. It takes me a good minute to get my heels back onto my feet.
When I am dressed, I stand at attention. I know my hair is a mess and I can feel the mascara on my cheeks. Since there is no mirror, I can’t see what I look like. I certainly feel like a mess.
“Go back to your apartment tonight. Get a good night’s sleep. A car will pick you up at 9 AM sharp. From there, you will start your first day at your new position,” Mr. Peak says as he pours himself a drink.
I open my mouth. No words come out. There are so many f**king questions running through my head. I dare not tempt his wrath. No, I say nothing and just leave his office. The elevator doors are already open as though they have been waiting for me.
My body leans against the back of the elevator. The doors close and I begin to descend back down to Earth. Oh my God. What happened to me? And more importantly, what is going to happen to me tomorrow?
***
*Bing! Bing! Bing!*
I jolt my head out of bed. Where am I? What time is it? What day is it? I look at my digital alarm clock and see the time: 8:30AM. My heart begins to race. I realize that today is Saturday. Then the fateful events of yesterday come rushing back into my head.
Mr. Peak is sending a car for me at 9 AM. I can’t disappoint the billionaire hedge fund boss. What my day will be like is a total mystery to me. As I jump into the shower, my mind races with millions of possibilities. Why is he sending a car? Where are we going? Maybe I will be seeing his house. I have never been in a billionaire’s mansion before. Hell, I don’t think I have even been in a millionaire’s home either.
As I jump out of the shower, I fall into an immediate panic. I have nothing to wear! My closet is a mess of dirty clothes, jeans, shirts, a few dresses and an avalanche of shoes, heels and sneakers.
Since Mr. Peak is my boss, I opt for something formal and colorless. Black and white does not offend anyone. I put on my black dress with my last white blouse. It’s 8:50. Fuck! I don’t have time to do my hair the way I want it. I keep my make-up tasteful and opt for pink lipstick. Red will be a little too much. But maybe Mr. Peak will like a little red on me? Oh God, I don’t have the time to debate lipstick inside of my own head!
It’s 9AM. I’m never ready on time. I walk out the door with my black Prada heels in my hands. I look around for a car. I’m thinking that Mr. Peak will have me picked up in a black Town Car. The Saturday morning garbage truck pick-up rumbles up and down the alleyway behind my Venice Beach apartment.
As the garbage truck passes by my place, I put on my heels. When the truck passes, I see a large silver sedan pull up in the alleyway. Oh my God. Is that a Rolls-Royce?! I have seen them around Rodeo Drive. You don’t see those cars around Venice Beach.
I walk down the stairs. The driver gets out. He is an Asian man dressed in a sharp black suit. “Hello Ms. Salamuri,” the driver says as he opens the door for me. I want to ask him a million questions. Instead, I keep my mouth shut and get inside of the car.
The driver doesn’t waste a second. He trots back into the driver’s seat and takes off. I look around the the interior of this car. This doesn’t even look like the inside of a car. I feel like I am inside someone’s home.
I notice my reflection in front of me. It takes me a few seconds to see the glass divider between myself and the driver. The driver speeds onto Venice Boulevard, headed towards Santa Monica. Perhaps we are going back to the office and Mr. Peak is simply kind enough to offer me a ride? No, I think there is something else going on here. Dammit. I just need to sit back and enjoy being in the backseat of a $400,000 car.
Right now, I’m not as nervous as I was an hour ago. Sitting inside this exquisite automobile can really calm a girl. I lean back and look out of the window. As we sit at a light, I notice all the other drivers staring at the Rolls-Royce They are probably wondering who is sitting back here. For a moment, I actually start to feel like a rich and important human being. I like the feeling!
The Rolls-Royce turns onto Lincoln Boulevard. It’s obvious now that we are not headed towards the office. I keep looking at the other drivers as they gawk at the ultra-luxury sedan. I really don’t want this feeling to end.
The driver makes a right turn right onto Ocean Park Boulevard, headed east away from the ocean. Perhaps Mr. Peak lives in Beverly Hills or Bel-Air? Maybe I am headed to his mansion? My insides begin to tingle with anticipation.
