Episode 3: Stinking Deal
997 Words
Sophia’s POV
I'm in trouble!
“Pick up, please.” I sigh, my shaky hands clutching my phone to my ears.
It's Monday. Since Charlotte told me of father knowing my hideout, she has been inactive. Her phone has been literally switched off throughout the weekend like they caught her snitching and decided to ground her even though she is an adult.
“Huh, please.”
Heaving a sigh, I dump the phone on the counter when she doesn't respond. On second thought, I pick it up and dial her number for the umpteenth time.
“Sophia,” her frail voice whispers.
"Jeez, you finally responded...”
“I can't talk to you for long,” she informs me, cutting me off subtly.
“What is going on?”
"I think father found your address."
“Think?” I grumble. "Charl, you had me acting sneaky all weekend and panicking, just because you think?”
"You can never be too careful, besides I'm risking my freedom for you.”
Right. I keep forgetting that father has this much hold on her.
“I haven't noticed anything suspicious since you texted.”
“Well...” she stutters. "He's been deploying men.”
“Did you get the state they are sent to?”
"No one is saying anything.” She exhales loudly.
“He does that often,” I dismiss her worry. "Nothing to worry about.”
"I hope so,”
There's an awkward silence between us.
“You sound distressed Sophia, are you okay?”
The beautiful and also scary thing regardless, is that Charlotte reads me like an open book whether she is seeing me or not, and even though I'm pretty unpredictable by nature.
After Friday night with that nasty stranger, I keep remembering the spontaneous encounter and I hate myself for it. No matter how I try to scrub off the sensation of his touch, I only end up with sore skin and then wild thoughts. To be fair, he f****d me really well, no one has ever driven me that crazy.
"Sophia?"
“Uh?” I snap back to consciousness. "It's nothing, I got it sorted out.”
"Charlotte!"
My father’s voice is heard from the background as he screams her name. For a minute, my heart stops beating and the beep of the phone is heard.
She ended the call.
One more wish... I hope he wasn't eavesdropping on us for the longest.
It's already Six O’clock, and work starts in roughly two hours.
Dropping my phone on the counter once more, I set my alarm for Seven and dash to bed.
****
The beep of my alarm has me jolting up. Tired, despite spending the weekend sleeping like a log, I switch off my alarm and lay my head down for a bit.
Besides, after the incident with my manager, I doubt I still have a job to return to.
Slowly, I doze off.
“Crap!”
Flying off my bed, I rush into the bathroom for a quick shower, literally the quickest I've had since adulthood. Pat drying myself with my bath towel, I shrug into my uniform.
Done, I fix myself a bowl of cereal, scooping the mix in my mouth hurriedly, before rushing out of the house.
Thirty-five minutes late!
As ever, the club is bubbly, and the bar section has quite the crowd, with just Emily attending to them.
“Emily?”
I come from behind, causing her to startle.
“You’re late,” she says with a frown.
“I'm sorry,”
Not wasting more time, I wear my apron and start cleaning mug shots.
“How about Mr. Thompson?” My lips are pressed together, expecting the worst. It's a miracle that I wasn't stopped at the gate and thrown out of the premises.
“He came looking for you, he looked quite angry.”
Not a shocker. I ignore her report when I'm the one who asked for it.
"You should serve the man over there, he's been waiting for a while.”
"Okay?"
“Two shots of vodka,” Emily tells me.
Pouring his order and setting it on a tray, I go over to the counter, to meet the stranger, his alluring pair of amber-green eyes staring me deeply.
For a moment, I hold my breath.
“Here,” my voice is flat and cold.
For the fact that he is first the club’s client before my enemy, I have to respect the club’s policy.
“I see you finally came.”
He has that devilish grin on, giving the perfect touch to his fuckboy appearance.
I ignore him, stretching my hand for his card to debit.
“We need to talk.”
"Bad for you, because I'm not interested.”
He drinks from his glass, his eyes not leaving me for a moment.
“Five thousand dollars.”
I suppress a laughter about to erupt. If only he had the slightest clue who my father was. But then, I'm broke, and that's my reality. Following my disappearance, he froze my accounts and I wasn't smart enough to make a withdrawal before my escape.
“Ten thousand?”
Tempting.
Adamant, I begin cleaning the surface of the counter, contemplating accepting his offer.
"Twenty?”
Sophia! My brain screams at me. With that money in cash, I can survive for a long time, with proper management.
“How about you make it a million since you feel so rich?”
“Thirty thousand, that's the most I can offer, don't push it.”
I stop wiping the surface and slightly move over.
“What do you want?”
“You.” He presses his fine lips in a thin line. "Marry me for three months.”
Such guts!
The mixed feeling of irritation and annoyance coursed through my veins. Unable to express myself in words, I pick up his second shot of liquor and douse him in it.
“How dare you?!”
- Writer
