I’m barely working, ignoring the emails of the agency repping me with new audition dates and addresses of men who can help me climb to the top… if I climb on them first.
They were relentless in breaking the morals you arrived here with.
This town was corrupt with quid-pro-quo favors that have heavy implications, men not afraid of the Me Too movement, and everyone is oh so bad.
Even if their outside is damn near perfect.
After modeling didn’t pan out the way I wanted, I ended up applying to every receptionist, personal assistant, and fetcher job I could, until Clave International Holdings called me in for an interview.
I had been staying in a rundown motel that my agency fronted to pay until I got a job, living off cup-o-noodles and envious of the prostitutes living across from me. They had no morals, no credibility, and yet they were waving money around like it was the most frivolous thing in the world. Ten small steps between the single-level motel dividing them on their lawn chairs in the parking lot and me. They were breaking my ability to follow my own rules I gave myself.
On the plane ride here, I made myself some rules to follow that kept me… well, myself.
Read the rules before you break them.
Too many rules was a mistake too.
That’s how you ended up falling into a cult and drinking the Kool-Aid. If I took enough time to really read the rules, I was more likely to follow them. I’m pretty sure I'm the only one still stopping completely at stop signs.
Working for Clave was interesting, to say the least. I felt like a model most of the time, just sitting at the desk outside Vic’s office.
I had theories about everything, including my boss and the office dynamics. Vic was the second most demanding of the four guys who run the office. They were all assholes who thought the world was their playground. They weren’t the owners or the men who interviewed me, but that was the last time I saw those men.
All four of the men who interviewed me combed through my resume, my background, and my experience with a fine tooth comb. They knew things I wasn’t sure possible employers should know… Like how healthy I was or wasn’t. I’ve never had an employer ask me how much I work out or how much caffeine I consume. The paycheck without selling my model figure was the most alluring part of agreeing to start next week.
I had been with Clave for almost a year now, starting as just a girl answering calls, directing deliveries, and stocking the kitchen between making copies. After working my ass off and ignoring modeling, I landed a promotion: working Vic’s desk.
As it turned out, it was more of a curse than a blessing… He was the single reason for our turnover being in the shitter.
Pulling into the underground garage, I was running late already. Grimm gave me 30 minutes to be in his office, and the 405 at this time of morning was a specific kind of hell you couldn’t avoid.
Not that I was taking him seriously. I was the only receptionist Vic had humored this long. Probably because he could dish it out, but I could toss it back with a smile on my face.
He wasn’t that talented.
Grimm was the only one of the four who didn’t have a receptionist at all.
Most of the office girls, female dominated if we are being honest, came to the conclusion he must be gay. I didn’t get the same vibe, but no one could really be sure when we all avoided him like a plague.
The elevators opened right up to the front desk. My best friend, Justice, greeted me with a sly glimmer, like I must be late for a good reason, when really it was a pain in my ass to do extra work off the clock.
She took over my job when I took over Vic’s desk and became my roommate shortly after. It was one of those relationships you don’t see coming and a kind of platonic love you can’t avoid.
“Don’t even start with me. I had to run an errand for Vic…” My eyes flared wide, and I leaned against the desk as she slid me a green smoothie that she always picked up for us.
“Errand for Vic, huh? Does your contract include booty calls?”
She was hoping something was going on to explain all the extra work I would take on, but in reality, Vic wasn’t my type. He’s the obvious kind of pretty—the kind of pretty that you knew he rarely had to try for anything, probably slept fine at night, and his issues were more about what kind of asshole he would be today.
“He’s more your type. You’re just too pussy to talk to him.”
I couldn’t blame her; half the office decided avoiding them was better than getting licked by their crudeness.
“I’m not a pussy. I’m just violently aware that we are on two different planets.” I could see her expression swallow that pill.
There was a very thick line between us and them.
“I better get to my desk before Vic senses people having a good time.” We both snickered as I sipped my green smoothie to my desk outside his office.
There was a perky blonde who could have been mistaken for an actual model, one gracing the pages of magazines and managing her pre-success by holding down a humble job.
“Excuse me, are you lost?”
The girl looked up with a small smile. “I’m new. I work for Vic. Do you need to see him? Let me announce you.” She went to pick up the intercom button on her phone, when I ignored her offer, breezing into his office.
“Are you fucking serious with this?”
Grimm had said I was fired and to meet him in his office, but Vic couldn’t have gone along with that. We had been working well together for this long. It wasn’t my fault his friend is a loose cannon ready to blow off everyone’s head.
I couldn’t work for Grimm. We were oil and water.
I wasn’t even sure he was human with his consistent disregard and permanently annoyed expression, like sharing the earth with anyone but his four “brothers” was inconvenient.
“Aren’t you supposed to be in Grimm’s office?” He didn’t even look up from his computer and typing.
Asshole.
“Did I do something wrong? I delivered the suit and hung it up, just like you asked. You never warned me he’s a fucking lunatic. I’m not taking the blame for this one.”
“No one is asking you to. You got caught. The whole point was to go in and get out… without being caught, Abigail.” His voice was steely, unbreakable, and cold.
“Seriously?” My arms crossed, and I knew the office was probably watching our exchange. Even though the corner offices were soundproof, the walls and door were glass.
“It’s fired or work at Grimm’s desk. Choice is yours.” Vic picked up the phone and finally made eye contact with me for the first time. His eyes were wide and mouth tight, like a silent dismissal.
I couldn’t give up my paycheck. I wasn’t modeling, and I had become accustomed to not eating cup-o-noodles if I didn’t have to anymore.
I proceeded out of his office to the opposite corner of the building… to Grimm’s corner of the world.
I had drawn theories about these four older men being their fathers and that the company was some kind of family expectation for these guys.
I had theories on everything, rules for everything, and a need for security in my life after this city chewed me up and hadn’t spit me out yet.
Grimm was the exception to almost everything.
His corner office wasn’t much different from the rest of the office: matte and gloss black everywhere, with splashes of gold and greenery for some color.