AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Angie: Gotta go.
I hit “send” and conceal the phone inside my clutch. I can hear the vibrations indicating a series of texts through the fabric of the bag. I ignore them and head back into the living room to join Claire and Mark who seem to be having a semiheated discussion on the new casino project.
As soon as Mark notices me, he rises and walks over to grip my elbow softly. I control my impulse to jerk away and try to present myself with grace.
“Ready to go?” he asks.
“I think so.”
He steers me to the doorway. I grab my keys to shove in my bag and wave goodbye to Claire. She seems too quiet, as if something is weighing on her mind. I give her a look, and she shoos me off.
I am wearing all black—black dress, black thigh-highs, black clutch, and black stiletto heels. If it wasn’t for the extreme shortness of the strapless dress, I would look like I was going to a funeral. Perhaps I am mourning the loss of my modesty, as I slip further and further into the escort lifestyle. All night I will be afraid of accidentally flashing someone my Hollywood. The sparkly barrettes holding my hair up and matching jewelry give the outfit flare and personality.
“You take direction really well, Angie. You look amazing.”
I nod and give a shy smile. I wish he would stop making comments about my appearance. Despite the kindness to his words, I can’t help but notice the condescending feel to their meaning. Our age gap is showing. He is treating me like a child.
Mark’s intense stare makes my skin chill with goose bumps—but not in a hot-and-bothered kind of way. He ushers me to the limo, and we are greeted by his driver, who is a man in his fifties with salt-and-pepper hair. The hand on my lower back makes me jump. I try to settle my nerves at the physical contact, attempting to hide my obvious unease. I slip onto the leather seat, carefully grabbing the hem of my dress to keep it from riding up my thighs. It is obscenely short for the low limo seats. I groan, realizing I don’t even have the slightest bit of wiggle room to cross or move my legs. My phone buzzes with an incoming message, and I quickly mute the device without even looking at it.
Mark breaks the silence of the quiet ride. “Tell me about yourself, Angie.”
I inwardly roll my eyes at the cliché question.
“Well, I am in my last semester at River Valley. I am in the process of finishing up my English degree.” It is a half-truth. “Then looking for an internship.” Part of my subconscious wants people to know that I have a goal—that this agency job is temporary.
“Pretty and smart. A rare combination.”
“Thanks,” I answer timidly, only because I feel obligated to say something when complimented.
“How’s the outlook? Have you delved into the search for potential internships? In writing, I presume? Teaching?”
“Writing,” I clarify. “Not really sure of the prospects. It is an extremely competitive field with way more applicants than positions. By not getting an internship, I would basically be settling for some mediocre job that doesn’t pay well and doesn’t allow me to have freedom to do my own work. I would essentially be—”
“A slave.”
“Pretty much.”
Mark reaches into the minibar that is built into the seat bench and grabs a bottle of wine that already has the cork popped. He offers me a drink and I accept, knowing that it will help with my growing nerves.
“I might be able to help you out, actually. I have a few connections to some publishers and news outlets. An old college buddy, actually, works for Pacific Press.”
“Wow, really?”
“Life is one big social web.”
I perk up for the first time all night. The offer of help extinguishes the initial comments I was quick to make just hours ago. Maybe Mark isn’t as much of an ass as I thought. “You would be willing to put in a good word for me?” I ask quietly, sipping the red wine that has a bit too much tannin for my liking.
“If you’re good.”
“How will you find that out?”
“First work on a resume or a portfolio of work if you have not started already. I’ll touch base with some of my associates and put out feelers.”
“I appreciate that. Thank you.”
“No problem.” Mark’s smile shows his professionally whitened teeth. No human could ever have that white of teeth on their own. His polished look makes my instincts send a warning to be on guard. I can’t start trusting freely just because of charm and possible bridge building toward a better future. My track record for trusting early has resulted in heartbreak nearly every time.
When the limo stops in front of a tall glass and steel building, I stare out the window in awe. Although I know there must be lights on behind the glass panels, the only lights that are visible are the ones shining externally up the sides of the building. Around the foundation, little spotlights are hidden between green shrubbery. The structure is striking and different from all of the surrounding buildings. It’s as if the building has an angelic glow.
