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Sloane
Kate gives me an apologetic look as she heads into Mr. Stanhope’s office to show off her work. Frustration brings tears to my eyes. Even if she got her work done three hours early, did she really have to run straight to the boss? Swallowing hard, I force my jealousy and bitterness down. Kate has been nothing but nice to me, and she wants that coveted permanent position as much as I do.
It’s unlikely that she needs this job more than me, though. Slouching down, I sink into my chair and stare at my computer screen, barely seeing the little work I got done that morning.
If only I could have done the bulk of it last night like I had planned to. I might be in there with Kate, proving that I deserve this job. But things have gone from bad to worse, at least financially. It was probably a mistake to take this internship because despite getting paid; the wage is quite small. Before, when I was still hustling my butt off at the busy diner, I could bring in more money.
If I get a permanent position though, the salary and the chance to work in finance will be worth the struggle. When I took this job, I thought it would just mean a little belt-tightening like giving up eating out and other little things, because Gran and I had savings in the bank to make up for my lower paychecks.
It should have been okay, but in the last few months, my beloved grandma had been acting a bit off. I was beginning to think she was sick, but last night she tearfully confessed that someone had scammed her. She lost not just our savings, but had pawned all her jewelry and even took out a loan at the bank in order to invest in a company that promised they would make us rich.
At first glance, the investment company and the plan they reeled her in with looked legit, but they’d taken everything and disappeared. So now, we’re not just broke, we are completely penniless and late on all our bills, including rent. Even if I quit the internship and beg for my diner job back, I won’t be able to catch up.
Staring at my computer, I can feel a rage building up again. I’m not upset at my grandma, but I’m furious at the scumbags who took advantage of such a sweet, trusting lady. Tapping on the mouse, I click through my work, but my concentration is completely off.
Kate makes me jump when she plops down next to me, looking like the cat who ate the canary. I force a smile onto my face and ask how it went.
“Great,” she gushes. “Easton loved the presentation and I’m going to implement his feedback on it right away.”
Good, maybe she’ll let me get back to staring at my screen. And,Easton?I didn’t remember our stern boss ever inviting either of us to call him by his first name. A brief flash of jealousy strikes me that has nothing to do with her getting high praise from him.
Instead of leaving, she leans closer, lowering her voice. “Are you okay, Sloane?”
My shoulders wilt and I feel bad for having unkind thoughts about her. My life is in shambles, and it’s certainly not her fault.
“Not really,” I admit.
“Money problems?” she guesses.
Last week we went to lunch and I confided in her. It felt good to confess my worries, so maybe it will help me get things off my mind if I share now.
“Things have gotten pretty dire,” I say, filling her in on the scam my grandma fell prey to.
Kate hisses her disgust and then her eyes brighten. “Listen. You know how good I am at research?” She doesn’t give me time to agree or even roll my eyes. “Well, I looked into that new client, Mr. Antonov, and I think he might have the solution to your problems.”
It didn’t take any impressive research skills to figure out that the firm’s newest client wasn’t exactly making his money on the up and up. Everything about him screamed mafia riches. I shake my head.
“Gran already took a loan out with normal interest rates we can’t keep up with. I don’t know how I could swing the kind where they break your kneecaps when you miss a payment.”
She laughs and inches her chair closer so our heads are practically together. “No, silly. Not a loan. Money you earn free and clear. He owns this exclusive club where they have monthly auctions.”
I recoil when she wiggles her eyebrows. Is she saying what I think? Would I be up for auction?
“You’re so pretty,” she says. “I’m sure you could get tens of thousands, maybe more. For one night, Sloane? Hell, I’d look into it myself to pay off my student loans if I wasn’t practically engaged.”
“That’s ridiculous. There’s no way.”
She shrugs. “When I found out, I totally went down the rabbit hole. I can send you to some message boards where other girls talk about it. You get a forty percent cut and the men are big spenders. Big, like dropping millions for one night. Money means nothing to them.”
The math clicks through my brain. Forty percent of a million would solve my problems and then some. “That can’t be right.”
“I overheard Mr. Antonov inviting Easton to a very special event there this Saturday night, and I suspect that’s the date of the next auction.”
My interest shrivels right up. “Good Lord, Kate. I could never do something like that if Mr. Stanhope’s going to be there.”
She shakes her head, sending her dark hair sliding over her shoulders. “He refused. You know how uptight he is. He’s such a workaholic that he rarely leaves the office.”
While I agree about him being a workaholic, I don’t think Mr. Stanhope is uptight at all. He’s stern, but there’s an old-fashioned nobility about him I admire. And what’s wrong with working hard at something you love?
