Last night hadn’t gone as well as I had initially planned it. Milo’s interrupted phone call nearly cost me the job altogether. I was just glad that Mr Jones hadn’t been too fazed by it and the evening continued where it had left off. If it had been anyone else, things might not have gone that way. However, the incident hadn’t gone forgotten and had been mentioned in his report back to the agency the next morning.
I was sat in one of the hard, square leather arm chairs in the waiting area outside Leticia’s office. I’d only been here on one previous occasion: when I’d first joined the agency and signed my contract. The only times you ever wanted to be sat outside of Leticia’s office was to sign your contract, if you ever found yourself sat outside of it again it was most likely that you would never have another booking again. I’d known three girls who had been asked to leave the agency over the last five years, and I didn’t want to be number four.
I glanced over at the girl who sat at the mahogany desk just before the office door. She was young and pretty with cropped, auburn hair teased in fine curls. Her makeup was exquisite, yet under stated, and her clothing was tastefully expensive. She tapped away on the keys of her keyboard, never long and deep, closing my eyes and hoping that time would speed up so that fate could take hold of me and let it all be over and done with.
What would I do without this job? I’d never had another job and had no skills or qualifications to go into any other normal field of work. I couldn’t see myself working behind a cash register anywhere so a store or supermarket was definitely out of the question. Maybe I could work in a bar; I’d be good at that. I know all the cocktails known to man and have perfected them all with ease. Yes, I’d be perfect working behind a bar. Perhaps I could ask Milo if I could… of course, Milo doesn’t own a bar anymore. That plan, like his bar, was now up in smoke.
A trill ring from a telephone broke my solitude. Without turning away from the computer screen, the girl sat at the desk lifted the handset up and placed it to her ear. There was a slight pause. I watched on nervously. Without saying anything, the girl put the phone back down at the receiver and began typing again. She then said, without even looking at me: “you may go in now.”
I nodded to myself and pulled myself up, straightening my dress out. As I headed towards the door, my heart began to race. Nerves were building up inside of me… I really didn’t want to lose my job. I knocked quickly on the large wooden door before stepping inside the office where I met Letitia’s blank face. Closing the door behind me, I walked over to her desk and sat in the chair on the opposite side of her. Silence.
“Roxy, Roxy, Roxy…” she spoke slowly, shaking her head and tutting to herself in disappointment. She opened the Book in front of her and began to turn the pages until she got to the one she desired, “Client: Mr Jones, Girl: Roxy, Report: Enjoyable evening, well worth the money, would hire again, despite the emergency phone call from work.” She slammed the book shut, making me jump, and glared at me, “Phone call? And which phone call would this be, because I certainly didn’t call you.”
“Leticia,” I began.
“Don’t ‘Leticia’ me, girl,” she spat back, “how dare you take a private phone call whilst with a client. That was highly unprofessional and not only makes you look sloppy but also effects that standards set from the agency which then makes me look bad.”
“I’m sorry.” I mumbled, tears beginning to well up in my eyes. I had no idea where they’d come from and I felt silly crying in front of Leticia; it wasn’t going to do me any favours except make firing me all the more satisfying for her.
“Sorry isn’t good enough.” She stood up from her seat and moved over towards the large window that looked over the city, “Who was it? The phone call. Who was it?”
“A friend.” I answered
“No.” I stammered, shaking my head.
“But you like him?”
“I never said it was a boy.”
“I can tell it was. Do you like him?”
“Of course. He’s my friend.”
“As more than a friend?”
“Do you like him as more than a friend, Roxy?” Leticia snapped again, turning back to face me with frustration, “Answer me.”
“Yes and no,” I answered, “I met him outside of work hours and he found out about Roxy.”
“Did you tell him?”
“No, he… he hired me. He didn’t know about me then... Roxy, that is. But he didn’t care about what I did for a living and liked me for who I am.”
“What you are, Roxy, is a whore and that’s all you’ll ever be.” Leticia’s words ended the conversation. She was right. That’s all I’d ever be. Even if she did fire me, my past would always come back to bite me and interfere with my life and any future happiness, relationship-wise. Leticia moved around the desk and sat on the edge of it just in front of me, “if I am to allow you to continue working for me you will do exactly as I say.”
“Anything,” I answered, wiping away my tears, “anything at all.”
“You will end everything with this boy. You will not see him again and you will not make contact with him. The only contact you are permitted to have with him from this point forward is to tell him that you will not see him again. You know the rules, Roxy. I will not allow my girls to fall to ruin because of a silly emotion like ‘love’. Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes.” I whispered.
“Good. Now leave my sight before I change my mind. I will have details of your next client to you before the day is done. It looks like you left Mr Jones keen, he’s booked you again.”
“Thank you, Leticia. Again, I’m so very sorry.” I told her again, leaving my seat and exiting the office. I didn’t look anyone in the eye as I made my way to the elevator doors. All I could do was reach into my bag and retrieve my phone, searching through my contacts for Milo’s number. I hit dial and placed it to my ear as the elevator doors enclosed me inside. He answered on the third ring.
“Hello?” came his sweet, destroyed, heartbroken voice. I closed my eyes, not wanting to say the words that were supposed to come out of my mouth.
“Milo, it’s Sophia. We, err… we need to talk. Would you be able to meet me somewhere? Alone? And in private? It’s kind of important.”