Seven Guilty Pleasures

by Jeannette Winters

  Her focus shouldn’t be on him or High View Falls Casino. This job was only temporary until she could land the job she’d hoped to get here. One in the office. But this wasn’t a bad job. At least so far it seemed like she’d enjoy it. Her new boss seemed pleasant enough, and she’d make enough to pay her bills. At this point, that was all that mattered.

  Although grateful for the job, Isa never expected to start immediately. The fact that someone had quit without notice was working in her favor. As she rode the service elevator to the basement to retrieve her uniform, the grumbling of her empty stomach was magnified in the confined space. She wished she’d eaten something, anything at all, before coming in for the interview. Thankfully the gurgling didn’t start until she was alone. But that wasn’t going to be the case for long. Isa was about to start an eight-hour shift after an already long day job hunting and interviewing. Thankfully the elevator doors opened to the most beautiful sight she could imagine. Vending machines.

  Isa made a beeline to them, whipping out a dollar bill from her purse. Her eyes roamed the contents, some healthy options and others not so much. Inserting the money, she pressed her choice and waited anxiously. The sound of the machine echoed in the empty hallway. Bending down, she pulled the bar from the tray below. Tearing back a corner, she took a bite, closed her eyes, and moaned as the sweet morsel melted. Chocolate doesn’t fix everything, but it sure makes everything better. It was one of her guilty pleasures.

  It was gone in the matter of a few bites. It would hold Isa for now; she wasn’t sure when she’d get a break. Pulling out another bill, she pressed the button and slid another bar into her purse. For emergencies.

  Although she didn’t believe this job was going to be stressful, she felt unprepared. According to her résumé, she’d had a lot of waitressing and cocktail experience. That may have been a stretch . . . A voice in the back of her mind had told her to show up with all her documents to complete new hire paperwork. That same voice failed to mention to wear comfortable shoes. She’d dressed for success, and it worked. Now a night rushing around in these pretty high heels was going to wreak havoc on her feet. At least my calves will love me.

  “You must be the new girl. Better get moving, or you’ll be late,” a deep voice boomed down the hallway. Isa turned and found a heavyset older woman standing there, holding clothes. “I’m not sure this will fit, but it will have to do for today.”

  Isa made her way over to the woman and took the uniform. She held it up and had a few questions. “I thought I was hired to be a cocktail waitress.” Isa had no idea what that entailed when she accepted the position, but serving drinks was a definite. She figured it would be more . . . conservative, like the rest of the wardrobe. The fishnet stockings, short skirt, and matching corset weren’t what she’d seen when she did her walkthrough before the interview.

  “You are. You’re working the Pussy Cat Lounge. Don’t forget your ears. The makeup room is down the hall. There is an image on the wall to show you how to do your makeup. Any questions?”

  Pussy cat? Maybe I should’ve asked questions before. But she needed work. If she didn’t take this job, she wouldn’t be able to pay her rent. Her pride was one thing, but homeless and on the streets over a uniform, or lack of it, well that was just plain foolish. Isa had hopes and dreams. I haven’t come this far to quit on them now. Smiling she answered, “I’ll be ready shortly.”

  It was the first time the woman’s voice softened, and she appeared relieved. “I thought for sure you were going to hightail it out of here.”

  “Really, why?” I mean the thought crossed my mind, once or twice . . . or ten times.

  “Besides the look of shock when you saw the uniform?” Isa nodded. “Well, you don’t seem the pussycat type.”

  “What is that type?” Isa was almost afraid to ask. Would this woman ask me to leave?

  “Not saying you’re not pretty enough or don’t have the body to be one, but they usually are more . . . bubbly. Outgoing. When I was asked to give you this uniform, I thought they’d sent me the wrong girl. Given what you currently have on, I picture you behind a desk somewhere. And I don’t mean that in a rude way.” Isa smiled.

  “Well, hopefully the uniform will help.” Isa scooted off to the dressing room. The woman nailed it. But no matter what outfit they put her in, Isa wasn’t going to change. Being bubbly? She could try. Yet another mask to wear . . . I used to be bubbly, but when all the joy in life is sucked out of you, it’s harder to pretend.

  As she changed, she thought about how much her life had changed. The last fifteen years had been good and had been spent in a back room office. But getting to that point hadn’t been easy, and even those closest to her had no clue how bad it had been. She’d spent many nights crying and scared, feeling alone. Yet Isa couldn’t bring herself to share what she’d been through. No one would’ve believed her anyway. If she spoke up and somehow word got out where she was . . . she was afraid they’d make her return to that life.

  But Isa never forgot, and no matter how difficult it had been for her, she was still one of the fortunate ones. She’d done some things she never wanted to think about, but it was the only way to break free. Even then she couldn’t have made it if the Bowen family hadn’t given her a chance. One I’ll never forget. They had no children of their own and took her in like family even though she was in her early twenties. It was the first time Isa actually felt cared for, loved, since she’d been ripped away from her own loving parent’s arms when she turned eighteen. The Bowens not only gave her a roof over her head but also taught her how to research products so they only carried the best in their store. She didn’t understand it. They were both elderly, and Isa offered to be out on the floor stocking shelves, but instead, they had her in the office keying everything into the computer. And at night when the shop closed, they stayed up late helping her study for her USA General Education Development certificate.

  Once she had her GED, her dreams seemed endless. With their encouragement, she felt as though anything was possible. But to achieve her goal she would need more than hands-on experience. She needed a college degree. She’d been with them for fifteen years before both the Bowens passed on, and Isa was once again left on her own. The doctors had said once Mr. Bowen died, Mrs. Bowen had given up her will to live. Couples who’d been together most of their lives, sometimes can’t live without the other. It was beautiful and yet tragic.

  On her own again, Isa tried finding companies who would be willing to give her a chance like the Bowens had. They didn’t exist. It was like a wall went up, and she couldn’t climb it. Someday that will change.

  Isa knew she wasn’t about to strike it rich on her salary or her tips, but it would buy her some time until something different came along. She felt like she’d done her time waiting. Waiting to complete her GED. Waiting to gain enough experience that she could find the job of her dreams. Waiting to feel whole. Wanting what the Bowens shared. Waiting to know what it felt like to be in a lover’s arms. She shot down that foolish thought before it could fester. She had to focus on this job.

  Pulling eye hooks together in the front of the corset, Isa turned to take one last look in the full-length mirror. The uniform was snug and the skirt way too short. She had a feeling that wasn’t going to change no matter what size she asked for. As she continued to stare, she hardly recognized herself. The fake eyelashes and heavy eye makeup changed her appearance more than the black dot at the tip of her nose and whiskers glued to her cheek. What have I gotten myself into?

  It brought back some painful memories of how young women would be dressed to please the highest bidder. Sometimes there were outrageous costumes such as this and other times they were put in a pretty dress. Either way, the end result was similar. Some cruel, sick man taking our innocence. Her eyes glistened as she thought back to her life twenty years ago. Could she have gone back to her parents after being so sorely abused at the hands of a stranger? Her parents would’ve welcomed her no matter what,
that wasn’t the issue. But she was damaged goods. Although everyone knew what sick behavior was taking place, the women were still treated horribly afterward. As though it was our fault we’d been born a girl.

  It was almost twenty years to the day since she escaped, yet she could still remember everything. Not only the bad, and goodness knows there was plenty of that, but the good as well. How she used to play with her little sister and read stories to her before bed. She was almost eight years old the last time Isa had seen her. So full of energy, climbing trees and scraping knees because you refused to slow down. I hope all that never hurt you. She wondered what her sister would look like now. She never was a girly girl type. But had she decided to let her hair grow and start wearing dresses? Probably not. Maybe being different, awkward, kept you safe. She wished she’d spent more time with her sister. Instead the afternoons weren’t her own. When she had wanted to be out playing with her friends, Isa was home helping her mother prepare dinner. It had seemed like such a chore and there were many times she’d resented it. Now she ached for those simple times. What I’d give to have those days back. I miss feeling like I belong. I miss my family.

  Going back wasn’t an option. She’d thought about it many times. Isa wanted to go and sneak her sister out as well. But getting out was a one-way trip. Isa knew what would happen if she showed her face there again. Her family would suffer for what she’d done because rebellion against the cruelty of the government was punishable by death. Leaving showed a weakness in the government’s control. They’d surely make an example of her and those who helped. Seeing home again meant death. I almost paid that price when leaving. I’d do it all over again, but this time, I’d take my sister with me.

  That wasn’t an option when she left. Leaving hadn’t been planned. The opportunity rose, and she jumped at it. There was no turning back or second guessing herself.

  Isa could feel the tightness in her chest and needed to bury the thoughts of home. Crying would only cause her makeup to run and she’d have to start all over again. Doing so would mean she’d be late. I don’t want to be fired before I start.

  Leaving the dressing room, she headed down the hall to the service elevator and pressed the button for the third floor where her assignment was. But the elevator stopped on the first floor for the bellhop with luggage and again on the second floor for a maid with her cleaning cart. She waited for either of them to look at her oddly, but they didn’t. Her attire was all so normal to them. That didn’t mean she was comfortable with it. Think bubbly. Think . . . outgoing.

  As the doors closed on the second floor, the thought of the doors opening again on her floor panicked her. It wasn’t the tight space or the overcrowded elevator, even though neither appealed to her. This job was something new. She should’ve been upfront and honest about never working in food service before. She was grateful to have a job, but she thought there’d be more training than how to apply makeup. It was too late to speak up. One more stop.

  Before she could go into full-blown panic, the doors opened. Across from the elevator was the guest elevator, and it was in the process of closing. It was equally packed, and a young woman was standing in front of the crowd. Her eyes locked with the woman long enough for Isa to suck in a deep breath. It was like looking in a mirror at a younger version of herself. A happy one. Surely her eyes were playing tricks on her, because she’d just been thinking about her baby sister. I needed to stop thinking about the past. I can’t change it. I need to keep moving forward.

  Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, she forced a smile and headed toward the lounge. Isa could hear jazz playing through the closed glass doors. She stopped for a moment and watched the waitresses swinging their hips and flirting like crazy as they delivered drinks. Pulling the door open, she went inside. You can do this, Isa. This is only temporary. Something else will come along. It has to.

  Chapter 2

  Isa hit snooze for the third time. Normally she was a morning person, but the first night on her new job had taken more out of her than she’d expected. Pulling the blanket over her head, she rolled onto her side. She considered herself physically fit, yet every muscle and joint seemed to ache. At times like this, she wished her apartment had a big soaking tub.

  It didn’t help that dreams of home disrupted her sleep. The nightmares used to come frequently, but over the years they subsided, yet never really vanished. When she drifted off the same vision appeared. The eyes of the woman in the elevator were calling out to her. Isa knew stress brought this on. There wasn’t any other valid reason for it. Isa didn’t know the woman in the elevator, but there was something about her. The more she tried pushing the thought from her mind, the more it persisted.

  At least it isn’t the job tormenting me. That woman was a hotel guest, so I won’t see her in the Pussy Cat Lounge, that’s for sure.

  Her alarm went off again. The buzzing sound was almost as annoying as her dreams. Isa was tempted to grab the alarm clock and fling it across the room, but that wouldn’t change the fact she needed to get up and start her day. Reluctantly she removed the blanket from her head and pressed the off button. The sun was peeking through the room-darkening curtains.

  It wouldn’t be easy to change her work schedule from days to nights. But she needed to keep looking for an office job, and that meant being up and dressed for success early.

  She was thankful, although tired, she’d pulled out a clean skirt, blouse, and jacket before jumping into the shower. Dressing quickly, she applied the makeup she usually wore: a peach lipstick. Isa was blessed with long thick lashes, and so far, no wrinkles. A few more nights like last night and that might change.

  It was ridiculous to dress as though she was heading to work. More companies refused to accept her résumé. They wanted her to apply online. She’d done plenty of that, and it never returned any results. Her hope was one of these places would see how professional she appeared then look at her résumé. Look the part you want. They were words she’d read in a fortune cookie. Laughing, she thought about her interview yesterday. Maybe they don’t work when applying at a casino.

  Was it possible at her age? She was thirty-eight. It was difficult enough trying to compete with college grads in their twenties who already had their masters. She wanted to believe she could save enough money to pay her own way, but realistically, finding a job in an office that would be willing to help pay for college made the most financial sense. After months of applying to companies offering such a benefit, she believed it might never be more than a dream.

  Altering her plan of action wasn’t like giving up, was it? When she’d gone into High View Falls, and they asked if she’d mind waiting while they completed their background check, she had been concerned. Not that she had anything to hide, all her credentials were up to date. When they returned and agreed to interview her on the spot, she’d thought someone had finally recognized what she had to offer. It was a fleeting moment of joy. When they took her to meet with the hiring manager, reality set in. The only thing they’d seen was she could start immediately. It was doubtful she could advance into an office position from her current one. With all the mix-up on drink orders last night, I’m lucky to even still have it.

  But Isa wasn’t a quitter. Today was a new day, and she was going to work better prepared tonight. It didn’t matter how long she had the job, her work ethic mandated she give her all, and that included checking the Internet on her phone for all the drinks they served so she knew their names. It was what she’d expect if the tables were turned. Not that it looks like I’ll be in charge of anyone anytime soon.

  When she got outside and headed off with résumé in hand, her cell phone rang. She didn’t recognize the number.

  “Hello?”

  “Ms. Bowen?” a stern, deep male voice asked.

  “Yes. This is she.”

  “This is Scott Townsend. I’m calling from High View Falls Human Resource Department.”

  Oh great. Isa anticipated being spoken to about
her performance, but not this soon. Please don’t fire me. “What can I do for you?” She held her breath waiting for his answer.

  “We had an employee quit, and now we’re running short-handed. Since you seemed eager for work, I thought you might want to pick up a few extra shifts.”

  Her schedule was already forty hours, how many more did he think she could do? But in one night, Isa made two hundred dollars in tips. Every penny earned over the amount she needed for bills was a step closer to starting school. “That sounds good. When do you need me?”

  “About two hours ago, but we will take you as soon as you can get here.”

  Isa was tempted to delay so she could make a couple stops first, but telling him she was job hunting was stupid. “I’ll be there shortly.”

  “Excellent. I’ll let the manager know.”

  If she hadn’t already left her apartment, she’d change. It’d be so much more comfortable showing up in jeans and a T-shirt like the other women she worked with. At least today she had a bag with a more comfortable pair of shoes. Still heels but not as high. Might mean smaller tips. It was something she was willing to risk because her feet still hurt and she was going to be working twelve hours straight. It’s going to take more than two chocolate bars today. Maybe the entire machine.

  Isa didn’t hesitate and quickly arrived and dressed in her uniform. Her nerves were much calmer today as she looked at it as putting on a show. No one knew who she was, so how she acted really didn’t matter. Outright smiling and flirting was not only expected but required. As she moved from one table to the next, taking orders and delivering drinks became second nature. She was thrilled with how much smoother it was going today. That was until he showed up.