The New Hire

CHAPTER 1: Desiree-1

CHAPTER 1: Desiree

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Desiree sat in the waiting room outside Julie’s office at La Petite Mort Club. This was her second visit and she still wasn’t impressed. The hallway was poorly lit, carpets were old and dark and the office furniture was common. The faint hint of bleach or some sort of cleaner permeated the air. The adherence to cleanliness was the only thing about this place that lived up to its reputation.

La Petite Mort Club was the premier pleasure establishment in the area. It was supposed to be high class and elegant, although she hadn’t seen any indication of that from the back office. Hopefully, the stories about the clientele weren’t exaggerated as well. They were rumored to be rich, generous, and STD free.

Sex was a messy business and she wasn’t going to work anywhere that didn’t take safety and cleanliness seriously. This was a temporary job. She had no intention of dying for it. That was if she actually got the job.

This was her second interview. She’d been a bit surprised at the callback. Her first meeting with Julie had not gone too well. The woman had disliked her on sight which wasn’t uncommon. Desiree’s beauty had alienated her from most other females since she’d turned thirteen.

This interview should go much better. Today, she’d see the man himself—Ethan St. Johns—the owner of the establishment. She forced herself not to pluck at her outfit. She had no reason to be nervous. She’d dressed perfectly for this meeting—sexy but professional. White blouse, top two buttons undone to show a hint of cleavage, tight black skirt and jacket that accentuated her breasts.

Julie the bottle-blonde, Amazonian woman who’d interviewed Desiree the first time stepped out of her office, her lips turned up in a sneer. “Ethan will see you now.”

“Thank you.” She stood, ignoring the other woman’s condescension. Women, like Julie, whose beauty had been lost to time and life were either charming and graceful or bitter. Julie fell into the latter category and nothing Desiree could say or do would make this woman her friend or even a non-enemy.

“Follow me.” Julie spun around and strode down the hallway.

At five foot seven Desiree wasn’t short, but she almost had to run to keep up with the older woman’s long stride.

Julie stopped, knocked once and opened a door, stepping to the side. “Right through here.”

This was it. The moment that’d change her life. She was about to become a very rich w***e. She took a deep breath and strolled into the room, feigning confidence.

Julie followed behind her like an evil specter. Desiree was glad she didn’t stumble when her eyes landed on the man behind the desk. He dressed like any other rich businessman but Ethan St. Johns was even more attractive than she’d heard. He had sandy blonde hair, blue eyes and a deceptively angelic face that hinted at danger, seduction and everything fun and forbidden in between.

“Please. Have a seat.” He stood, motioning to the chair in front of his desk as his eyes boldly roamed up and down her frame.

“Thank you.” She smiled shyly as she sat.

He wouldn’t find her lacking. No man did. She had her mother and her French father to thank for that. Beautiful was too benign a word to describe her. She was exotic with black hair, so dark it shone blue in the sun, a pale complexion with lush, red lips and blue eyes that tipped up at the corner. Her body was perfect—breasts large and firm, a tiny waist and long legs with a nicely rounded bottom.

She was the spitting image of her mother. The only difference was the shrewd mind that she’d inherited from her father. Her mother had wasted her looks on rich, attractive assholes who’d banged her and left her with nothing but sometimes a baby in her belly. Desiree wasn’t going to make the same mistake. If she got this job, the first step in her future was in place.

His eyes sparkled as they continued to study her assets but other than that his face betrayed no emotion. She struggled to keep from frowning. She hadn’t expected the man who ran La Petite Mort Club to be easily charmed by an attractive woman, but she hadn’t considered that he’d be immune to her.

“Would you like a drink?” He strolled to the bar at the back of the room.

He had a gorgeous body to match his face—a nice firm ass with just a little bit of bubble to it, long strong legs and a chest, shoulders and arms that proved he worked out more than occasionally.

He turned toward her and she continued to survey him. Her eyes pausing on his crotch and the slight bulge there before making their way up his broad chest to his face.

He lifted a bottle of some type of liquor. “Would you like something to drink?” he asked again, amusement in his blue eyes.

“No. Thank you.” She’d expected to see heat in his gaze. Any other man would’ve been drooling over her by now. Perhaps, for once in her adult life, she was out of her league. She couldn’t allow that. Her future depended on her getting this job.

She wasn’t going to get rich working a nine-to-five. She’d barely finished high school. The only well-paying job in her future was here where she could use the assets God and her parents had given her.

He poured two drinks and walked past her, handing one to Julie before sitting back down behind his desk. “Okay. Let’s get down to business.” He tapped a manila folder next to his keyboard. “You passed all the physical tests.”

“But you haven’t decided to hire me. Yet.”

“Why do you want to work here?” His eyes dipped to her breasts. “With your looks you could find a rich husband.”

“I’m not looking for a husband.”

“Please.” Julie snorted. “All women like you want a husband.”

“Not me.” So, Julie had reached for a diamond ring and had failed. Desiree’s eyes darted to Ethan. Perhaps him? He looked at least twenty years younger than Julie, but the other woman had aged poorly—too much drink and a hard life by the lines on her face.

“Good, because you won’t find one at the Club,” said Ethan.

“Is that a rule?” She relaxed against her seat, making sure to keep her back straight enough to keep her breasts on display. Her mother had drilled that into her during her teen years. “I’m not looking for a husband but I will need to know all the rules because if I get this job, I don’t plan on losing it for something as stupid as a husband.”

“Do you hate men?” He took a sip of his drink.

“No. They have their purposes.” Giving her money was the top one in her book.

His eyes widened a fraction. “And those are?”

Good. She’d surprised him. She’d spent her childhood watching rich men come in and out of her mother’s life. Men like them bored easily. Ethan was a rich man. If she wanted this job, the best way to get it was to arouse his curiosity as well as his c**k. She leaned forward just enough to give him a glance at her cleavage. “Giving pleasure and getting it.”

“So, you’re here to f**k. Is that it?” He didn’t sound like he believed her.

“Not exactly.” This time she leaned closer. “Let’s say we stop the games. Okay?”

“Yes, let’s. Games are for inside the Club not my office.” He looked bored.

“I was born poor and I’ve never been great at school.”

“Poor baby,” said Julie.

Ethan’s lips tightened a little but he didn’t rein in his watchdog.

She didn’t even glance at Julie. The woman was unimportant. Julie wasn’t going to decide anything. Ethan was. “All I have are my looks and those are fleeting.” This time she did let her gaze dart to Julie. “As we all know.”

“You bitch.” Julie stood, hands fisted. “You better hope you don’t get the job because Ethan may hire you but you’ll work for me.”

“Julie, please.” Ethan’s voice was slightly disgusted.

Julie almost bristled but she sat, obeying like a good dog.

“Desiree, please go on,” said Ethan.

“Since all I have are my looks, I want to use them to make enough money so that I’m financially stable for the rest of my life.” Her looks and her body were a fleeting gift that time would too soon destroy. Like a professional athlete, she only had a few years to use her gifts to their full advantage. “And I think working here will do that.”

“You have a high opinion of that p***y,” said Julie.

“Not at all.” She glanced at the other woman. “p*****s are basically the same. It’s what’s up here”—she tapped her temple—“that makes someone special.”

“And you’re stupid. You just said—”

“Julie, enough.” This time Ethan’s voice was like ice, dry brittle and deadly. “Leave us.”

“Ethan, you can’t mean—”

“I mean what I said.” His eyes landed on the other woman. “I always do and you know that.”

“Fine.” Julie stormed from the room, slamming the door behind her.

“Sorry about that.” Ethan tossed back his drink and walked to the bar, pouring another. “Are you sure you wouldn’t like something?”

“No, thank you. I’m not much of a drinker.” She’d gotten that out of her system during her rebellious teen years.

“That’ll change if you work here.”

“I doubt it. Sure, I sip and socialize but this is business and business needs to be done with a clear head.”

“I’ve learned to adjust.” He grinned as he took a drink.

“I didn’t mean you.” Lord, this man was attractive but lucky for her, she’d learned a long time ago not to fall for a pretty face.

“Of course not.” He took another sip. “Please continue with why you want to work here.”

“This is the most reputable s*x club in the area and I need to make money.”

“Yes, before your looks fade.” He laughed. “Sorry, but you’re twenty-three. You have years before you have to worry about that and”—his eyes drifted over her slowly—“I think your beauty will age well.”

Her mother’s hadn’t. “Not if I can’t take care of myself. Worry and hard work have a way of aging us before our time.”

“You sound like you speak from experience.”

“My personal life is my business.”

He c****d an eyebrow.

“I’ve met a lot of people who have no qualms using personal information as weapons.” She glanced at the door.

“Julie is never told anything except what’s necessary for her to do her job and your personal information isn’t part of that.”

“I’ve found that if one person knows something then several will know soon.” She’d trusted the wrong people too many times. It wasn’t happening again.

“I suppose I can’t blame you for not trusting me but it hurts.” He placed his hand over his heart as he tried not to smile.

“I doubt that.” She laughed. Working for this man wouldn’t be as bad as she’d expected.

“You may as well learn to trust me because I already know everything about you.” He unlocked a desk drawer and pulled out another envelope, handing it to her. “Julie is not privy to anything inside here.”

She flipped through the pages, her face heating. There was information about her mother, her father, her brother in prison, her half-brother on her father’s side and even her ex-boyfriends. She closed the envelope feeling violated. She took a deep breath. If she were going to work here she needed to get used to that feeling. “So, you understand what I mean about the temporariness of looks.”

“You mother is still an attractive woman.” He hesitated. “Or could be.”

“Yes, if she could afford to take care of herself.” She placed the envelope on his desk.

“And you’re going to do that for her?”

“No.” She’d been done with her mother for years. “I’m not a saint nor a martyr.” She shrugged at his look of surprise. “She chose her life. I’m choosing mine.”

“And you’re sure you’re not hoping to land a rich husband.” He leaned forward. “It isn’t against policy but it seldom happens. The men here...many are married, others aren’t looking for a wife especially one who’ll...”