Young Writers Society

Read summary and chapter one first  [x]

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C H A P T E R  T W O

"You've got to be kidding me."

Those were the words that slipped past Indie's lips when Harvey stopped the car the following day. They were in front of Temptation X; the most popular, and also most expensive, nightclub in Ravensbrook.

He rolled his eyes. "Just get out of the car already. Tell the doorman you're here to apply for the job. He'll know which one you're talking about. Go, go, go!"

Harvey literally pushed her out of the car. He even shut the door behind her. From the inside. It wasn't for long he let her shoot daggers at him through her eyes before he drove away. He'd better be there when she got back.

If this didn't work out the way he said it would, she'd kill him. Unless she got herself killed first.

Heading for the line, she realized she wasn't properly dressed for this place. If anything, she was dressed for a simple job interview. There was no dress clinging to her body, nor any heels to make her appear taller than her five foot four.

Stealing glances at the people in front of her, she was getting more and more annoyed with Harvey and his lack of intel. She would have had plenty of time to change, had he not failed to mention it.

Indie didn’t look like a complete disaster in her black dress pants and floral blouse, but compared to the others, she looked rather dull.

Everyone was wearing what appeared to be the most expensive clothing they owned. Glitter dresses so short Indie could almost see what they was obviously failing to hide. Stilettos so tall that it was a miracle no one had ended up on the ground yet. Men, although not as many as the females in line, wore black suits, probably with the famous Armani logo embroidered on their chest. Not to mention their hair. She had a feeling that her hand would be glued to their head if she so much as put a finger on it.

***

"Next!"

Indie almost jumped out of her skin by the sudden outburst of the doorman.

When it was finally her time to come forward, she hesitated. But after taking one glance at the doorman, she rushed forward. Didn't want to keep him waiting. He looked like he could kick her across the block if she so much as thought about wasting his time.

"I'm here to apply for the job," she said with a confident tone.

At first, he looked puzzled, but then it seemed to hit him. Tilting his head down, he grabbed his speaker and began talking into it.

Indie couldn't hear what the other end was replying, but she spotted an ear piece in the doorman’s ear. That had to be the reason.

Eventually he said, "Wait right inside and someone will come get you."

She nodded, slipping past the double doors.

The inside looked even more expensive than the outside. The club was huge. No, that was an understatement. Enormous. In the distance she spotted a dancefloor. There was plenty of people dancing to the loud music. However, it wasn't so loud anyone had to scream on top of their lungs to have a conversation. Indie knew that was normal. She had been to a nightclub or two in her life, just not any the size of this one.

There were tables and booths placed literally everywhere. And although she spotted a lot of empty seats, this place sure looked crowded. Even the bartenders seemed busy, although there were only three people seated by the bar.

She'd heard rumors of the entrance fee, but never the exact amount. For some unknown reason fifty dollars or more seemed to be more than reasonable at this point. Luckily for her, she hadn't paid a single penny. Hopefully it would stay that way, or she wouldn't have any money left for breakfast in the morning.

"Miss?"

Indie spun around, almost startled at the sudden interruption. A blonde girl around her own age greeted her with a smile. "You're the applicant?" she asked, looking Indie up and down, as if trying to find flaws. And by the looks of it, she found quite a few.

Indie nodded once.

"Great. Come with me."

To keep up with the blonde wasn't a problem. The problem was not to be too fascinated by everything they passed on the way to their destination. People were making out in plain sight, practically sucking each order faces off and exposing too much skin to the whole world to see. Or at least to everyone in the club. Although it wouldn’t surprise her if there were any hidden cameras in every corner of the club. In a place like this, it would only be smart to have surveillance.

"I'm Courtney by the way," the blonde suddenly called out. "I'm a waitress too. But don't worry, you'll get the hang of it once you start working here. You'll get a proper uniform, they'll teach you how to do your hair, your makeup, your nails. It sounds like there's a lot to take in, but it's actually pretty simple. Take it from someone who's only worked here a few months."

Indie was speechless. She knew this place was popular and expensive, but she had no idea they were this strict. Were they seriously going to tell her how to style her hair and how to wear her makeup? If she'd wanted to change her appearance, she'd go to the hairdresser or simply put more makeup on. The uniform part she understood. How else were people supposed to separate the working staff from the customers?

"Here we are. Mr. Vanhorn will see you shortly. Just knock on the door when you're ready and he'll let you in."

Then she was gone. Just like that. She probably had things to take care of. More important things than accompany her while she gathered her courage.

***

Indie stood in front of a large black door. If Courtney hadn't told her to knock when she was ready, Indie wouldn't have knocked at all. The door looked intimidating. Almost threatening. There was nothing on it except for a golden X and a small sign underneath that said 'Mr. Vanhorn'. If she hadn't known any better she would have pictured a torture chamber behind the door, not a simple office.

She couldn't have been more wrong.

When she eventually gathered up the courage to knock, it took less then two seconds before a voice on the other side allowed her to come in.

The office was anything but simple. For starters, it was huge. Which shouldn’t come as a surprise, considering the rest of the club. It was by far the largest office she had seen in her life, despite her not seeing more than three. The walls were dark, except for one wall that was painted in a floral pattern with a mixture of black and white. Just the wall itself was mesmerizing.

Large shelves covered the wall to the left, storaging a large amount of books, binders and boxes that looked organized down to even the tiniest detail. She had a feeling that the whole system would collapse if someone removed even the thinnest binder.

The desk was massive. And of course, black. Which was kind of ironic, considering how little the owner had placed on top of it. A king's size computer screen with a matching keyboard and mouse, a cellphone and a stack of papers neatly stacked on top of each other.

Indie was brought back to reality when the person standing behind the desk cleared his throat.

"Well, Well, well, look who's got the nerve to show her face here," he said as a grin spread across his attractive features.

There was just something about that voice. That look.

"I'm sorry?" Indie looked puzzled.

"It's not me you should apologize to," he said with a crooked smile.

She looked him over. Once. Twice. Then she remembered. The restaurant last night. He was the reason she spilled that wine. The victim's handsome brother. The hottie.

Indie narrowed her gaze. That was not what she meant and he knew it. He was simply messing with her. And by the looks of it, he enjoyed it.

"I'm here for the job you need to fill. From what I've heard you need to fill it within the next few days. I'm here to offer my assistance."

Indie said exactly what Harvey had told her to say. Now that she said the words aloud, it sounded more as she wanted to help a fifth grader with their homework.

Hottie chuckled. "First things first, miss-- Patton, wasn't it?"

"Indie," she corrected. He cut her off with a wave of his hand. Obviously, she was not allowed to speak while he was speaking, so he continued as if she hadn't said a word.

"My name is Cameron Vanhorn. My brother is out of town for a few days, so I'm the one running the club while he's gone. He's the boss, just so we're clear. Which brings me to the next subject. Exactly what kind of assistance are you offering? Because from what I've seen up close, you literally suck at serving others. So why on earth should we want you as a waitress in our club? Do you even know what kind of club this is? What kind of people who come here?"

He gestured towards the door with his hand, signaling the crowded club on the other side.

Her face had turned red during his speech, her hands into fists and her eyes were so narrowed she could hardly see through them. Was he fucking serious? It was his fault she had spilled that wine. If he had just kept his gaze to himself. If he hadn't given her that hungry look, that smirk, none of that would have happened. Although now that she thought about it, it might only have been in her imagination.

"That was your fault and you know it," she snapped.

He was right about a couple of things though, she couldn't deny that. She really had no clue what kind of club this was, except for the fact that it was an expensive and very popular one. What kind of the people came there? How could she possibly know? It wasn't like she had spent a lot of nights there.

"I'm an excellent waitress, just call my boss. He'll tell you everything you need to know and more. I look decent, I'm young, talented, a quick learner. What else could you possibly need? From what I've experienced, waitering is not exactly rocket science."

Now it was his turn to narrow his gaze.

"I don't know whether to be offended or fascinated by your lack of knowlege of this club and how we run it. To me it almost sounds like you think we're a bunch of amateurs," he said and stepped around the giant desk.

Indie followed his movement with a pair of hazel eyes, holding her breath while doing it. He didn't stop in front of the desk though. Nor did he stop on his way over to where she stood.

He did however stop right in front of her. Invading her personal space. Not that she actually had one.

She let out a shaky breath, praying to a God she didn’t believe in that he didn't notice.

"Allow me to clear things up to you," Cameron began.

He was so close it was hard to concentrate. Where was she supposed to look? His eyes were too intimidating; his lips looked soft like feathers and she only wanted to touch them and find out. If she looked any lower, her mind started undressing him, showing her pictures she wasn't sure she wanted to go away.

Just as she had found the perfect spot to look at: the apple on the back of the computer screen, he grabbed her chin and forced her gaze back at him. "We are professionals. We have strict contracts our employees need to sign and agree to in order to work here, contracts probably longer than any novel you've ever read in your life, rules that are not meant to be broken under any circumstances. Our employees are protected and safe while they're working. Their names are not their own, their clothing are not theirs, sometimes even their hair is not theirs. We provide that safety, so that whomever they meet here will not be able to find them outside these walls. And trust me, Indie, you do not want anyone to find you."