JENNIE
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This lipstick is doing me all kinds of favors. It was worth the twenty bucks after all.
Men's eyes slip down to look at it and women compliment me on it, and altogether it feels like I am doing all right for my first shift at The Club.
Even though this place is nothing like I imagined. Jisoo said it was like a high-end speakeasy. Like being taken back in time, but it isn't.
It's modern. It's expensive. It's like the devil designed this place. There's a small kitchen, but the food they serve looks like it belongs in one of those fancy restaurants you see in magazines and TV shows.
All of this is so far out of my league.
My shoulders stay pulled back when Jisoo reminds me to carry myself like I belong here. And I do. It feels like I'm supposed to be here. Which doesn't make a damn lick of sense, because a place like this is merely a dream to someone like me.
"Keep it up," Jisoo says and winks at me as we pass each other. She's got a martini glass in her hand and I've got a bill in my left.
It takes me a moment to remember the passcode and how to navigate the system. I'm slow, but it's my first day and the bartender, Jihyo, she's there to help.
It's a bit too good to be true, but all of them point out that it gets more intense at night. Things are expected to be busier and louder, with everything moving faster. So I have about four hours to get familiar. Glancing down at my heels, I grimace. My toes curl in the tips of them. The first chance I get, I'm slipping into flats. Tips be damned.
I didn't realize the extent of how short my dress was until I leaned down to take someone's order and a breeze slipped between my thighs. It may have made me blush and yank the fabric down the moment I got away, but the tips, even for just five tables, have been insanely good. Jisoo wasn't kidding about that. I'll have that new set of sheets and new bedroom furniture in no time.
Slips are returned, orders paid, new guests are seated and greeted. Everything is fairly comfortable and easygoing. The other women are kind. The men in sharp suits who stand at the front … they're intimidating until they look at me. It's all polite smiles, but there's no doubt in my mind they can be brutal.
I don't know all their names yet, but I know the bartender is Jihyo; there's a man in the kitchen named Benji and the other waitress working right now is Sana. The best way to describe her is that she's an assassin with long, curly blond hair. She moves faster than Jisoo and me combined and she's already nudged me to let me know if I fall behind she can help. Her experience is obvious and a number of the men seem to know her by name.
Maybe in that way it's like a speakeasy. There are quiet conversations but most of the people here know everyone by first name.
Maybe … I shake my head, unsure of myself. It's an odd mix and it's hard to put my thumb on what exactly is throwing me off.
By two hours in, I'm starting to feel a little surer of myself. At four hours in, it's slowed down a bit. Jihyo assures me as I walk off with a round of shots for two men in the corner, that it's the eye of the storm.
"Get ready, the intensity is about to pick up."
One deep breath in, and I tell myself I can do this. I am doing this.
Slipping out my lipstick, I touch up the color and then I spot Jisoo off to the side talking to Sana. Their heads are together and when they see me coming, Jisoo nods to her and approaches me.
"Hey," I start, "I think things are—"
"Ms. Manoban wants to see you in her office," she says as soon as she's close enough. Jisoo holds a black tray close, flat against her body.
The air leaves my lungs. Manoban. There's a faint numbness that goes to my fingers. I knew the Manobans. I knew of them. And Jisoo told me they own this place. Everyone knows of them, or at least the word on the street is that they run this entire town.
"Ms. Manoban?" I question and if I had more strength, I'd ask which one—Maybe some of the Manoban boys already have wives, who knows—My heart races and my blood chills.
"Yes." Jisoo nods once, her gaze staring at mine as if I'm being slow. "She wants to see you in her office."
Which one? The question begs to be asked, but it stays at the back of my throat, choking me. Standing there expectantly, she doesn't seem nervous in the least.
"Is everything okay?" I question and she lets out a laugh.
"I'm sure it's fine," she answers and that's not reassuring even a tiny bit. My pulse picks up, nervousness pricking along my skin.
Which Manoban is it? Is it one that I know?
That's not the question that comes out. "Where is her office?"
She gestures at a nearby matte black door. It's disguised into the wall, the knob of it cut glass. It's expensive, just like everything else in this place.
And it leads to her. I stop myself right there, breathing in deeply. It leads to a Manoban. It doesn't mean her. She probably won't even recognize me. She didn't know me then. She sure as well wouldn't know me now.
"Through there and down the spiral staircase. There are some rooms down there for … certain things." Jisoo shrugs, blushing. It throws me off-balance to see her face go red like that and I'm thankful for the distraction.
She knows this place, so whatever goes on down there must be shocking even by her standards.
"Certain things?" The question falls from my lips eagerly in my rush to think of anything other than a girl I once knew. Still, I'm taken aback at the color in Jisoo's face. She's hiding something from me. "What certain things?"
Jisoo glances around us, checking to see if anyone is listening. She leans in close to me and drops her voice. "Look, some of these guys … they're hot. And they're willing to pay for other things, you know?"
Heat rushes to my face. Oh my God. I must be as red as she is. My imagination spins through all the possible scenarios of the rooms downstairs. "Certain things" sounds illicit and maybe illegal. The question comes out in a hushed whisper as I grab her arm, pulling her in closer. "You sleep with them?"
"Not all of them. Some of them I like to … enjoy, and I do." Jisoo glances around the club, taking in the women laughing over their wine and the reclined men in expensive suits. Her gaze lands on a couple across the room. They can't take their eyes off each other. "Sometimes couples come, and we … take them down there to enjoy themselves. Sometimes they want company, sometimes not. There's also the entertainers." Jisoo straightens her back. "This is a judgment-free zone. If you want to do something here, you do it."
My immediate response comes out in a single breath. "Well, I don't want to." Is that what they expect of me? "This isn't what—"
Her hand lands on mine as she reassures me, "Relax, it's not … it's not required. It's just something that happens sometimes."
"I don't want to—"
Again she cuts me off. "You say that now," Jisoo murmurs, a smile playing at the corners of her lips, "but when it's late, the liquor is flowing, and these men look at you like they've never wanted anything more … sometimes it's tempting." She shrugs and adds, "If we want something, and they want it too …" her words drift off as her gaze lands on a man in a gray suit, seated by himself. Her tongue sweeps across her lower lip and she says, "All I'm saying is," it's then her eyes meet mine again, "don't knock it 'til you try it."
"I'm not judging, but if I still don't want to?" I question although I can't get the rest of it out. My mind is spinning and I can barely focus on anything. I need to know whether she's telling the truth. If it's a requirement that I sleep with men … or couples … in those rooms downstairs, then I have to find another job.
I can serve drinks and take orders, I can flirt even and have a good time in that regard, but I draw the line there. Even if Jisoo thinks I might like more.
Jisoo puts her hand on my arm in a comforting gesture. "If you still don't want to, you don't have to. But you do need to go to the boss's office."
Fuck. Heat rises to my cheeks hotter than before. I swallow hard. "So why does she want me to go down there?" I nearly choke on the question and again, a little voice whispers in the back of my head. Which Manoban?
"That's just where her office is. You'll see. It's straight ahead once you get down the stairs. Her door is the red one." Her eyes dart to my lips then back up to meet my gaze. "It matches your lipstick."
"What does she want?"
"I don't know." Her answer comes out with less patience than before. Jisoo takes a few steps to the bar and stacks her tray there. She's always taking inventory of the club, making sure no one needs anything. "She doesn't usually ask for anyone, but maybe it's just 'cause you're new. I'll watch your tables while you're down there."
With her easy tone, I give her a short nod and take in an uneasy breath. Fauxcourageall the way.
"Okay."
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Time slows down as I open the door, and when I close it, the world that feels like something else is muted and I'm met with only descending stairs and silence. Taking the steps one at a time, I go down the staircase. It'sheavy ironin a spiral shape and myheelsseem to wobble with every step. At the bottom is a hallway. Expensive paneling lines the walls. It's not like a basement. It's less like afancyspeakeasy that the upstairs resembles and far more like private property. It feels like someplace you'd need a password to get into. A passing thought is haunting. If the devil owned real estate on the East Coast, and a sinner perished, I imagine this could very well be the modern gates of hell. Sconces line the walls, the pattern mimicking the spiral staircase. Every small detail drips of wealth.
I swallow thickly and head toward the dark red door near the end of the hall. My heels click in the quiet hall in a menacing way. The echo mocks my racing heart.
Again I wonder which Manoban I'll see. Vaguely, I imagine it'll be nothing like the dreams I've had occasionally for years.
The door is in front of me before I know it and I hesitate, my nerves churning in my gut. I knock as confidently as I can.
"Come in." Her voice is deep, her command firm and my body obeys.
The glass knob is cold as I open the door. The door swings easily, not protesting what feels like a sinful act. My dress has ridden up from walking down the stairs and I tug at the hem as I walk in, thankfully hidden by the door. I take a quick glance down to make sure my hem is in place, then look up to see the woman at the desk.
My heart skitters, forgetting its beat when her eyes find mine.
I know her. A chill runs down my skin and time pauses, only for a moment.
It's the youngest Manoban, Lisa. I'd recognize her eyes anywhere. She's no longer an impoverished girl with dark clouds in her eyes.
The woman looks more expensive than the office, and this office … Dark wood gleams underneath framed prints of cityscapes, and all the neutral colors work together to highlight the girl at her desk. She stands up from her seat, revealing a tall, fit body in a tailored button-down. She strides slowly around to the front of her desk and leans against it. Heat crawls down the back of my neck. I knew her before, but this isn't the person I knew. This woman is radiating power and control.
She looks me up and down. "It's quite a short dress."
"Lisa—"
"Most go with Ms. Manoban."
"I'm sorry." My lips feel oversensitive, almost numb. I can barely move, let alone control the words tumbling from me. Intimidation does not at all do this moment justice.
"Don't be." Her eyes roam over me, undressing me. "If that's what you want to call me."
I flush violently. I'm as red as my dress now. Gathering my composure, I remind myself that I'm working. This is a job. A loud tick reminds me that time continues on. It moves and so should I. "You wanted a drink?"
"No."
My fingers lace between each other in front of me as I stand just in front of the doorway, the light from the hall still filtering in. Please don't ask me to close it. That's all I can think. I don't know what I'd do with myself if I were locked in with her.
I question with my tone relatively even, "Is there something I can do for you, then?"
"I'm sure there is." Her fingers toy with something on her desk. A small metal die, I think. She hasn't taken her eyes off me since I stepped into the room. Everywhere her gaze lands, it burns my skin. "You just started today?"
I nod, clearing my throat.
"You have questions."
"I just started so there are some, but I'm learning quickly." It's so quiet between us, I'm certain she can hear me swallow.
"Jisoo referred you?"
"Yes."
She nods. "Did she suggest you wear red or did you decide that on your own?"
I'm overheating in her presence. It would be rude to look away from her, but she's so striking that I want to close my eyes. Simply glancing in her direction gives her some kind of power over me.
Even worse, my mind keeps trying to compare her to the girl she was, but it's impossible in the face of the woman she's become. Her question hangs in the air between us. It wasn't as casual as she made it sound. I know that much, at least.
"Jisoo said I could wear red or black or white." I don't want to say anything to get Jisoo in trouble. She told me the colors to choose from, and I chose. Although she told me I looked best in red.
"Jisoo told you that?"
"Yes." She also told me shorter was better, but maybe I didn't go short enough. Jisoo and Sana are both wearing shorter dresses than I am. Or maybe, as the new girl, I'm supposed to wear something longer. "Is my dress okay?"
Lisa stares me in the eye. "Red means you'd like to be fucked."
Shock blanks out my mind in a cold realization, followed by embarrassment. There's a rushing sound in my ears that won't go away. People have seen me, up there in the club. I've been waiting tables. Every man who smiled at me thought I was offering to come downstairs with him. "Excuse me?"
Lisa smirks at me, setting the die down. "I imagine Jisoo didn't tell you that."
"She didn't." My nerves react with anxiousness. "And that is not why I wore this—" I swallow a burst of fear. "I'm not—" before I can explain myself, she cuts me off.
"From now on, I'd like you to wear black. Don't ever wear red again." Lisa narrows her eyes. "But you can keep the lipstick. If anyone asks for you tonight, inform them that the boss has requested you. Is that understood?"
It's quiet as I stare at her, taking in every word she's said as if it's a drug. It's an order. She's so commanding with her tone that it makes my knees go weak. Jisoo didn't tell me everything there was to know about The Club. She might be wrong about what Lisa wants too. If Lisa's requesting me now …
"Say 'yes, ma'am," she prompts.
"Yes, ma'am."
Her brow furrows like I've upset her somehow. It's not an expression I recognize from when I used to know her. She used to be soft and gentle. A good kid. Now there's a hardness to every detail of her expression. Life hasn't been kind to her. It's made her tougher. Her eyes darken as she watches me in my red dress that she disapproves of. "No one touches you," she says.
"I—"
I'm interrupted from questioning her when her phone rings. Lisa takes one look at the screen and puts it to her ear. "Yes," she says, her eyes still on me. I let out a breath. This is my cue to leave, my skin still prickling with a cautious unease. I shouldn't listen in on her calls. She's still on the phone as I turn to leave and grant her privacy.
"Jennie." My name in her voice stops me with a shiver, the door halfway open with my hand gripping the frame. I turn back. Lisa leans on her desk, in control and at ease with the situation. "It's good to see you."
My heart does that flip again. This time it hurts a bit more.
"It's good to see you too, Lisa."
Rushing the words out, I move as quickly as I can. I shut the door behind me a second before my knees give out. My body sags against the deep red door, heart hammering. I can't catch my breath.
Lisa Manoban.
Being in the same room with her was nothing like I expected. She remembered me.
I didn't know she would look like that. Her eyes feel like they're burning through the door even now, but I can't bring myself to stand upright.
Each command she gave repeats in my mind as I attempt to steady myself.
I'd like you to wear black. Don't ever wear red again.
Inform them that the boss has requested you.
It's a long moment before I can stand tall and straighten my dress once again. Every step takes me farther from her office, but I can feel her down there, as if something is calling for me, pulling me, tempting me and luring me back down to a place I can't imagine ever being again.
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