Page 1 of Miss Trust

Tory

If desperation was a smell, it would have filled up the small room where I sat in a hard, wooden chair, dressed in the only pantsuit I owned. Silently, I beseeched the man across the desk to give me a job.

Frank Murphy, my interviewer, sighed and adjusted his glasses before perusing my résumé. Not a good sign. But I knew what he saw. A job history with employment gaps and no real consistency.

Frank looked to be in his fifties. He might hold the title of health club manager, but he didn’t appear to use any of the equipment he managed.

“What have you been doing the last seven months? No employment?”

I didn’t think I’d be winning any points with honesty about stripping at a club in Hollywood, so I went with an alternate truth. “I had an ill family member and took some time off to take care of her.”

He nodded, probably thinking I was talking about my grandmother. In fact, I was speaking of my four-year-old daughter. Over the last couple months of job interviews, I’d learned the hard way not to mention my daughter was fighting leukemia. Not only did that reveal I had a child, but one with medical needs to boot. Strike one and strike two.

Nope. Less was more when trying to land a job.

“I’m assuming you no longer have the same obligation? Caring for a sick family member won’t interfere with your shifts here?”

Technically, he wasn’t allowed to ask this question in an interview. Technically, it was none of his damn business. But technicalities wouldn’t help me get this job. So I lied smoothly. “It’s no longer an issue. I’m timely and reliable and would be able to start working immediately.”

I had only been at my assistant job for a few months when Penelope had gotten sick last year. Being such a new hire meant no leave of absence. Since I’d been forced to take time off to deal with her illness, my job had been terminated. Losing the position meant losing the medical insurance a few weeks later. Between hospital stays and other appointments, it had been impossible to find another day job. It wasn’t as if I could put her in daycare, either, since she had a compromised immune system. So my alternative had been stripping at night for cash, without any type of benefits.

I was, in fact, a responsible employee, but I just couldn’t work during the day. For the past year, I’d been taking my daughter for chemo, but the leukemia had recently come out of remission. She was going to need another round. I’d do anything for a job with medical insurance, allowing me to care for her without having to take off my clothes to put food on the table.

Thank God for my younger sister, who helped me pay the medical bills. I don’t know what I would have done without her contribution, but I hated the fact she was also stripping in order to do so. Guilt assailed me when I thought of Teagan stripping—and in a country where it was illegal. I absolutely hated feeling so desperate for a job, but with the medical bills over a hundred thousand dollars and growing, what choice was there?

I couldn’t rely on child support from Penny’s father. I was sure he barely had two pennies to rub together himself. Frankly, I lived with the fear he’d someday be in a position to contribute, and want her in his life. Nope. I would not allow her childhood to be like mine, with a drug-addict parent.

“The shift is from nine o’clock p.m. to seven o’clock a.m., Friday through Tuesday. Any issues with the hours or the pay? Comes with benefits too.”

“No issues.” The pay didn’t matter as much as the medical insurance. With it, I could move my daughter, Penny, to a better hospital with better care.

Frank raked his eyes down my body.

I tried to cover my involuntary shiver as disappointment coursed through me. So this would be one of those types of interviews. Couldn’t I be considered on my merit instead of the size of my tits?

“Working here means you’re the face of this health club. Means you need to stay in shape. Why don’t you stand up, turn around.”

I swallowed down the urge to tell him to fuck right off. He could pretend this was part of the “requirement,” but I was no longer a naïve teenager. His demand told me Frank was the type of man who thrived on the power he could wield over women. He knew if I wanted the job, I’d have to do his bidding.

As I stood up, I was thankful I’d worn pants. Skirts left me feeling vulnerable.

“You’re a beautiful woman. Do you work out?”

I finished my three-hundred-and-sixty-degree turn but not without judging the distance to the door, and thinking through an escape plan. Frank didn’t look like the type who’d escalate his perusal to a physical attack, but I’d been wrong before. I’d never allow myself to be wrong about a man again.

“I work out when I can. I’m excited to discover more of what the gym has to offer.”

His eyes finally left my chest and went up to my face. “We have a strict requirement about employees staying in shape. You’re representing the company, after all.”

I had to keep myself from flicking my glance toward his midsection. His belt appeared as though it was begging for mercy and a cheeseburger away from losing the fight. But he could stand there and insist his employees stayed in shape. Unbelievable.

“It makes sense.”

“You bring workout gear with you?”

“Um, no. I was told this interview was for the front desk position.” For a moment I thought he was mistaken and believed I was looking for a job as a trainer.

“Your suit hides too much. Take your jacket off. I need to ensure your upper body is toned.”