Henry ran his hands over his torso. The vinyl clothes fit really well and felt different from anything he had ever worn before. The corseted vest wasn’t nearly as uncomfortable as he had thought while he was being laced in.
The situation was odd, but he had been to stranger job interviews; at least so far no one was trying to get him to sell time-share condos in the Bahamas, or join a pyramid scheme. There was a good possibility he was being recruited for a cult, but he didn’t think so. The fact that all the women—and they were only women that he had spoken with who took down his name, who sent him off to change clothing, who told him where to go next— kept referring to his interview as an audition had him thinking he was possibly in the wrong place.
With nothing else to do for the rest
