So far, Luciano didn't seem as bad as people had painted him. A part of me wondered if people misinterpreted him just because he was the Capo of one of the most dangerous gangs around.
I wouldn't be fooled, though. Even as that part of me wondered, I could see it. He carried himself with an air of confidence and an alert demeanor, as if waiting for a threat to pop up so that he could reach for his holster and pull out his gun. Every part of him was tense.
He walked in front of me as we headed to the bar.
Apparently, conducting an interview and determining whether to hire someone outside of his office was unprofessional and not his "style," whatever his style was.
It was so quiet between us that I had to suppress the urge to fill it with words. He wouldn't appreciate that, so I didn't bother.
We finally got to the club, but we didn't sit with the people who were strewn across the leather couches, spending their money on the dancers and drinks.
"Come with me," he commanded, walking forward, and I kept following behind him like a lost puppy.
I didn't miss how people greeted and flirted with him as he smoothly moved between the crowd.
They parted the way for him and closed up for me, making me push my way through and make sure not to lose sight of him.
Not once did he look back to see if I was behind him.
"You know I'm still following you, right?" I finally asked as we made it to the second floor of the club, where less people seemed to be. He didn't reply, but I knew he had heard me.
He stopped in front of a black door at the end of the hallway, unlocking it and stepping inside. "Come in."
I didn't move, didn't go in. I was too skeptical to. He disappeared from sight and returned at the desk facing the door, a glass of alcohol in his hand.
"If you're going to stand out there like my grandmother's ghost, you might as well fuck off." He brought me back to my senses.
I could confirm that he was the rudest person I had met; and I had been to college, so I knew how brutal people could be.
I shook off the thought of calling him out as I finally stepped into the office. I closed the door behind me and looked around only for a brief moment. There was nothing to look at, really. The walls were white, save for his desk, which he gracefully sat behind like a king in a throne room.
"Have a seat." He gestured at one of the two chairs facing his desk. Suddenly I was sixteen in my high school principal's office again.
"You want to be a stripper."
It didn't sound like a question, but he had his brows raised. I simply nodded.
"And why's that?"
I'm going broke, I answered silently, but I couldn't bring myself to say it out loud.
"Well, I find it… I find it entertaining. Not only to me, but to the people I'll be dancing in front of. I—"
"Didn't you ask to be a server ten minutes ago?" It was unsettling, how his eyes never seemed to leave my face, swallowing every expression I produced, no matter how subtle. Even when he raised his glass of alcohol to his lips, he stared and waited for my answer.
"I find both jobs fascinating, actually." Even a toddler would know I was lying, but I couldn't say anything else. He wouldn't care if I was as poor as the word itself.
"Does your application as a stripper have anything to do with sending in a résumé?" From the way his eyes narrowed, I could tell he saw me stiffen at his question.
"What's the name again?" He snapped his fingers, an attempt at remembering.
"Jasmine."
"Yes. Jasmine. You said you dropped out of college. Why's that?"
I have plans to start a business, but I don't have enough money. College will only make it harder.
"That path wasn't doing great for me. I just didn't like school." A toddler might have believed that one, but not him. I wasn't sure he believed anything I had said in the last twenty minutes, including my name.
"And why exactly do you want to work for me? Do not lie to me this time, Jasmine. I don't like being lied to about the same thing, twice."
I adjusted in my seat, looking around and being greeted by the nothingness of the room once again. I wondered if he hid his personality, or if he simply didn't have much of that to hide.
"I need money."
"Well, I can't ask you what you want it for. Money's important for the world to spin. I guess I didn't make it clear enough. There are other jobs out there with good enough pay for a decent daily life. Why are you applying here?"
"I heard from a friend that the pay here is great. Also, I have plans to start up a business, but the money I have is not nearly enough," I finally admitted.
He nodded, taking out a sheet of paper and handing it to me with a pen. "Write down your full name, your address, and your cell phone number. I'll contact you if you get the job."
As if trying to kill the smile on my face, he added, "That is not assurance. You might never get contacted."
I nodded, snapping back to reality. "Okay."
"I have a proposal for you, Jasmine. As long as you're willing to listen." He took another sip of his alcohol as I nodded.
"I'm listening."
So he spoke.
And I listened.
~~
"No, fuck him. You're not taking that offer!" Vera shouted that night as I recounted the offer Luciano had proposed to me earlier.
"That's exactly what I'm saying! Who does he think he is?" I groaned.
"He always does that. Every six months or maybe even longer, he has a new doll he goes around with and discards whenever he wants. They all end up being miserable in the end and he's just…the same!"
Yes, Luciano D'Angelo had offered to pay me to be his pretend girlfriend. He didn't give away much details, only saying the terms would be revealed only when I agreed to sign a contract of some sort.
I didn't tell him I would do it. I didn't tell him I wouldn't, either.
I said I would think about it.
The offer still stood. The deadline to give my final response was in ten days.
He offered to pay up to fifty thousand dollars each month, depending on how good I was at playing the role, whatever that was. I didn't want to shove it out of reach so suddenly, but I didn't like to think I was that desperate.
On the edge, that's where I was.
"This isn't his first time?" I gasped. I had no idea why I was even surprised at that information.
"No, and I assure you it won't be his last. I'm glad you didn't fall for it. God, he's just the same as his awful brother!" She groaned, adjusting under the sheets of her bed.
"His brother does the same thing?"
"Not as professionally as Luciano, though. Matteo is all over the place. He doesn't make arrangements like his brother, he just goes at it. If he wants to get into your pants, he'll get into your pants before you even know what's happening." She sounded extra annoyed at the other D'Angelo, I couldn't help but be curious.
"Has he gotten into your pants before?" I chuckled as the room fell silent. "Oh, shit. He has! You have slept with the brother of the Capo."
"Don't put it that way. It was almost a year ago. I was stupid and sex-crazed, and he just happened to be there. It's never happening again, trust me."
The room fell into silence again, but I knew she wasn't asleep. "How many times did you guys do it?"
"For fuck's sake, Jazz!" She grunted as I guffawed. "I'm not going to answer that."
"That's fair. Goodnight, Vera." I smiled, turning off the light from my bedside lamp. She did the same with hers and wished me goodnight, too.
I laid in bed, staring into the abyss and creating lists of pros and cons in my head as his words played out in my mind.
Fifty thousand dollars every month.
No strings attached.
We would only have sex when necessary and if we both consent to it.
Would it be that bad?
I looked down at where my legs were in the dark and sighed, my face falling in solo embarrassment.
He would see what I was hiding if I ever agreed to have sex with him.