Page 45 of Filthy Boss


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I nodded. “That's amazing.” She made it sound enticing.

She leaned onto her desk, her white shawl draped over her arms. “You can have everything, too Calla, you just have to give me the card. Those cards will make all of your dreams come true. And I know you're thinking about it, contemplating your future here. But I'll tell you one thing; if you walk out that door tonight, you will regret it for the rest of your life.”

I looked at the card in my hands. It seemed so simple.

“I'm in. This is the Judge's card; he told me to bring in to you. He wants to take me out to dinner, and then he mentioned a hotel room…”

“Ah, yes, at the Roosevelt. He’s known for treating his girls quite well. You’ll like him. And inviting you to dinner on your first night? He certainly is enthralled with you.” She took the card from me, and used her phone this time to scan it. She then began typing furiously on a laptop. “You're going to need a mentor. I don't work with any of the new girls, but there is someone who does. If you need anything you will call her, not me. I am your business associate, your boss. Not your best friend. If you have a problem, you call Monique.”

“Monique?” The gorgeous black girl who gave her hell from earlier? Shit.

“Yes. She's one of the best. She knows exactly how to make the buyers happy, and she’ll teach you her ways. You will listen to everything, and do exactly as she says. She’ll meet with you tomorrow morning after your date.” She passed me a business card with Monique’s name and phone number.

I sighed. “Got it.”

She passed the judge’s card back to me. “There’s clothes for you upstairs in the dressing room. I believe you were up there earlier with Jessica. Change into something appropriate for dinner, and go to this room at the Roosevelt.” She scribbled down a

number on a pad.

“Do I take a cab?” I realized that I probably didn't have enough money for the fare.

She shook her head and smiled. “Oh, darling, the girls here don't take cabs. We'll have a town car drive you. You will go there, and you will wait for him. He'll pick you up for dinner in probably an hour. I'll call him to make the arrangements. And don't be nervous. They can always smell fear on a first date.”

I held a small piece of white paper in my hands with the number 421 written on it. I sat waiting for further instructions.

“Sweetheart, you need to get moving if you're going to get there on time. Go,” she commanded.

I nodded, and exited quickly out the way I came.

I attempted to walk back through the club unnoticed, but when I turned to look at the far table, I saw that the judge was gone. I stood there for a moment wondering if he already left to meet me, or if the date was no longer happening. As I stood in the middle of the club, probably looking very confused, Hudson approached me.

“So, I was considering giving you my card.” He had his left hand in his pocket, and the other holding his glass.

“That's a shame.” I tried to channel my attitude from before. It seemed to intrigue him. And as cocky as he was, I wanted to peak his interest.

He cocked his head at me. “Why?”

I smiled. “Because I've already accepted another card for the evening. I told you earlier, Hudson, I'd already made my choice. Perhaps another time.”

He took his finger, and dragged it along my forearm. He leaned into me and whispered, “I will have you.” As he pulled away, I stared into his deep brown eyes, and I felt myself falling into them. But I didn't have time for Hudson and his tricks, I had a date to get to. I pushed past him, and walked up the stairs back into the dressing room, where I found an outfit laid out at a makeup station with my name written on it. They worked fast. I changed quickly into the red dress that they had picked for me. It fell above my knee, and wasn't what I would call overly sexy, more of a classy look. I grabbed my coat from the closet, and ran out to the front doors where a black town car was already waiting for me. The driver held the door open for me, and closed it after he helped me in. He began driving without me even telling him the address. This business was a well-oiled machine, and I had just become one of its newest gears.

Chapter Four

When I arrived at the Roosevelt, I approached the front desk with my coat over my arm. I wanted to look comfortable yet confident, like I belonged there. I had never been in a hotel this nice before. The marble floor and matching columns had probably cost a fortune. And there was a bellhop at every turn. Twice, I was asked if I needed assistance with my coat. I clutched it like it was the last thing I owned; it was the only piece of my own life that I was carrying with me. I was in the club’s clothes all the way down to my underwear; nothing of my own, besides my coat and my purse, had remained with me. I was a completely new person, someone just playing a part.

“Room 421, please,” I said to the man behind the counter.

“Ahh, Judge Paxton’s guest. Of course. He hasn’t arrived yet. Odd of him. I'm sure he'll be up momentarily. But please allow John here to take you up while you wait. And if you need anything, please let us know.” He slipped a key card across the marble counter. I took it, and held it under my coat.

He smiled at me kindly, and a bellhop walked over to me and offered his arm. “Allow me to walk you up, Miss.”

I smiled at both of them. “Thank you.” I took John's arm, and he walked over to the elevator, where he pushed the UP button. He allowed me to walk in front of him, and as the door shut behind him, he turned around to face away from me, so that we were standing next to each other. “You haven't been here before, have you?”

I shook my head, and clutched my coat tighter to my chest. “No, I’ve never been here. It’s a beautiful hotel, though.”

He looked over at me. “You're different than the others.”

I attempted to appear confused, but I was sure that I knew what he was talking about. “I'm sorry?”

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