“Thank you, Kathy. I think that will be all today; we’ll contact you with our decision within the next two weeks. I would shake your hand, but– you know.” One of the men from across the table says with a smile.

I chuckle and smile awkwardly, wiping my sweaty hands on my pants. “Thank you, and please let me know as soon as possible. I’d love to tell my kids the good news as soon as I can,” I say as I stand up, trying to look as cheerful as possible.

I make my way to the door when I’m prompted to stop.

“Wait,” One of the men says from across the table.

I turn to look at him. He was a handsome man; looked to be fit, with greying hair. He seemed very mature and capable, but he didn’t say much during the interview.

He stands up and walks out from behind the table. When he was close he handed me a card. “You seem to be a very talented young lady. Give me a call if these guys don’t take you; I can connect you with people who would love to have you,” The man says with a teasing smile.

I look at the man, not quite sure what this was, before looking at the other interviewers. The other man was looking away, seemingly entranced by the painting on the wall, while the only other woman in the room looked down and took a moment to give a slight shake of her head.

I knew right away that this wasn’t the sort of opportunity I was looking for, but I took the card anyways. “Thanks,” I said with a polite smile before promptly turning away and leaving through the door.

...

...

One day passed. Two days. Then a week.

I sat on my dining table, drinking a cup of tea and trying to calm down. The kids were asleep and my mind was on making it through the month. I take a sip of tea and look down at the table. There was a card there, with a name and a number. Jake Gloom. At the beginning of the week I wanted to throw the card away, but I didn’t, and in the past few days, my eyes often wandered to that card, unsure on whether I should open that door.

I take out my phone and put in the number. I look at the card again. I had the number memorized at this point but I didn’t want to make any mistakes. My thumb hovers over the call button, but a thought lingers and my mind wanders.

Didn’t want to make any mistakes...

Make a mistake...

I shake the thoughts from my head and put away my phone. I take the card and rip it up before throwing it down the garbage disposal.

...

...

**BRRING**

**BRRRING**

A new week has started and I take out my phone hoping this was the call I’ve been waiting for. I look at who’s calling and the number was familiar. Instantly, I ended the call.

**BRRING**

**BRRING**

It seemed the man needed a hard no before he gave up. I take a deep breath and answer the call.

“This is Kathy,” I say, polite with a hint of snark in my tone.

“Hello Kathy, this is Jake from the interview last week. I just wanted to let you know that the guys over at Johnson Corporation have decided to go in a different direction with the Administrative Assistant position. I know it’s a bummer, but there’s plenty of fish in the sea, and there’s sure as shit a ton of companies. I’d like to talk over some other opportunities with you over dinner, if that’s okay... Kathy? Are you there?” The voice says casually over the phone.

It was nothing to him, but it was a heavy hit to me. My mind goes quiet and I stare blankly at whatever was ahead of me. My muscles become tense, shrinking as if to escape inside, and my mind quickly goes through what options I have.

What do I do now?

What do I do?

I’m unsure what to do.

Unsure whether I should...

“Kathy? Kathy, hello?” The voice continues to call out.

“Yes, I’m here,” I say meekly in defeat.

“About dinner, what do you say?” The voice asks, his manner still casual, as if to say that this was definitely not business.

“Where and when?” I respond, my mind made up.

...

...

“Ah, you’re here,” the man says in acknowledgement before gesturing to a waiter.

I take a seat, and the waiter appears immediately.

“What will we be having today?” She asks with a bright smile.

She must be expecting a big tip, I think to myself, my emotions on edge.

“I’ll have the Caesar Salad and a glass of your cheapest red wine. And the lady–” He says before gesturing to me.

“I’m not here to eat,” I respond, my face cold as I let a bit of my anger out.

He looks at me, but doesn’t say anything. The waiter simply watches on, maintaining her professionalism before looking back to him. “The lady will have the sirloin, with–” he starts to say before giving me a teasing smile. “The lady will have the filet mignon, medium-rare, with a side of mashed potatoes, and a glass of red wine, please. Your best.”

The waiter’s smile brightens. “Of course; right away, sir.” She says before walking away.

“Don’t be that way; this isn’t what you think. We’re simply here to talk about opportunities,” He says with a smile, his voice deep and charming. There was no way I would assume that’s all it was.

“That’s what I’m here for,” I reply with tired sarcasm. “Let me know what you got,” I say, urging him on.

The man smiles, and takes a sip of water; the smile still peaking out from the corner of his eyes.

After a moment, the waiter had arrived again. “Your wine, sir.” The waiter says as she promptly places the drinks on the table.

The man puts down the water and takes the wine before bringing it to his nose and taking a sip. “It’s not bad. But I’ll drink anything. How’s yours?” He says, still sounding as charming as ever.

I roll my eyes before responding. “I’m driving. I don’t think I’ll be drinking tonight.” I say dismissively.

The man shrugs. “Suit yourself,” he says before taking a bigger sip and putting the glass down. “As for opportunities,” he continues, his tone slightly deeper, as his eyes wander from my eyes to my chest. “There are many people who can do what you do; and there are others who can do them better, and if necessary, cheaper. That’s just the way it is. But– there is a way to stand out from the rest...” He says before looking back into my eyes.

And here it is... I thought to myself. My emotions began to bubble up inside me, and I desperately wanted to cry and let it out. But that would do nothing; it would just make the shame feel worse. My mouth frowns as I hold it in, and I looked right into that dirty bastards eyes.

“Come home with me tonight. We’ll get everything straightened out there, and by the end of the week I can guarantee you’ll have a job,” He says, his eyes no longer smiling; only waiting. Waiting for the choice I was about to make.

I looked down as my mind scatters in different directions, trying to find a way out. “Why?” I manage to force out. Why was life like this? Why was my life like this? At this point in my life...

I could feel the man watching me as a tear left my eye, threatening to have it all pour out.

The man sighs. “There is a price for everything in this world,” he says before I hear him gulping down the rest of his wine. “No one can cheat God, and you certainly can’t cheat the devil. If you don’t play the game, the devil has a way of bringing you into his debt,” He says, his voice solemn. I look up at him as he looked out of the window and all I could see was displeasure. But he turns back to me with a smile and continues with a teasing voice, “In all honesty, it's not my intentionto go home with you. I wasn’t even suppose to be at your interview." He says with a light laugh.

"I was just dropping by to talk to someone about a favour he owed me. But I happened to be there, and I happened to see you, and a few others. You all wanted the job, of course you did. But you had a deeper desire for it; enough to catch my attention.” The man then looks at his empty wine glass and sighs.

“I don’t believe you.” I say with gritted teeth, willing to doubt everything this man was saying, and biding my time until this moment passed. But something had to happen; the man was still waiting for an answer.

“I mean it,” The man says, trying to sound believable, his tone turning more playful. “I really mean it. To prove it, I’ll offer you a second deal. Instead of coming home with me, I can get you the job you interviewed for, if you...” The man says before taking a moment to ponder. “I can get you the job you interviewed for if you clean my house and do my laundry, for– let’s say, three months. I’d also like for you to cook me dinner, but you don’t have to do that if you don’t want to. What do you say?” The man says, his smile back, and his voice lingering with a hint of child-like playfulness. I didn't notice, but in that moment I let my guard down.

“Are you messing with me?” I say with a raised eyebrow.

...

...

The man only continues to smile. There's a body you'll have to walk over, but I'll do my part. As for what the heavens decide for the previously accepted hire; that's not for me to decide...

...

...

And so I cleaned. And I did the laundry. But I never, ever, cooked him dinner. I made that very clear.

Within a couple of days, I had gotten the job. But I didn’t feel any better. I was dreading; dreading the day the stakes were raised. But eventually, three months had passed, and I had finished cleaning the house for the last day.

I found him in the living room drinking from a glass of wine and reading a book.

“Are we done?” I asked, not able to believe that it would end as simply as that.

He looks up from his book and takes a moment to look at me before speaking. “For me, I’m certainly done. You served me for three months when you could have served me for an evening with the same result. I have nothing left to say, but as for you, and whether you’re done, that’s up to you.” He says, his voice no longer charming and seemingly satisfied with the transaction.

“Oh, we’re done.” I say with certainty before turning away. I left his house with my kids and intended to never look for the man again.