Elene

 

 

She doesn't look happy to see me. Miss Barry gestures toward the chair with a dismissive wave, emitting impatience through every motion.

She looks immaculate as always. The black lady suit hugs her figure tightly, emphasizing her feminine curves, and her hair is put up in a tight bun, leaving no strand astray. I admire her look every time I see her. Everything is so perfect, so pristine and flawless. Even her make-up looks as if she'd just applied it, even though it's almost noon and I know she has had an early day today. She told me on the phone that she'd be at the agency all day, starting as early as 9am, which is unusual. This is a night business, after all; no one, not even the Madame, has a reason to be up this early in the morning. I wonder what – or who – forced her to be here this early today.

Even with my efforts to look decent when I show up at the agency, no matter the occasion, I always feel inferior next to Miss Barry. I'm wearing one of my Valentino ensembles, a navy skirt with a matching blazer that features a playful ribbon at the waist. The dark color stands in stark contrast with my long pastel hair that I've pinned up in a lose bun, sitting low in my neck. The white blouse underneath is of far less value, because unlike the skirt and the blazer, it was not a present from one of my clients. 

"I won't have much time," she informs me as I sit down opposite of her, the massive office desk between us. 

I cross my legs, sitting with an unnaturally straight back as I try to convey a confidence that generally fails me when I'm in here. It's especially bad today, because I come with bad news, and she looks stressed already. I have no idea what is going on with the agency that keeps her so busy on the day, of all days, I want to hand in my resignation, but it's bad timing for sure. 

I shouldn't have pushed for an as-soon-as-possible appointment. It's never a good idea to push the Madame. I should know that. 

But now I'm here, with nowhere left to go, so I might as well go through with it.

"Okay, I'll just get straight to the point then," I begin, taking a deep breath before I dare to tell her my reason for being here. Short and easy, like ripping off a bandage.

"I'm here to hand in my resignation."

I didn't even notice that I closed my eyes, until I hear her gasping. My eyelids swing open on instinct, and my stomach turns when I'm met with her shocked expression. Miss Barry has never looked at me like this, perplexed and outraged at the same time, as if I'd just done a very, very bad thing. 

"You want to quit?" she exclaims. "But, Elene, honey, what could possibly make you say that?"

I swallow hard, unable to come up with an explanation fast enough.

"Is it about one of our clients?" Miss Barry probes. "Did someone mistreat you? Did anything happen? Because you know we can-"

"No, no, it's nothing like that," I hurry to assure her, raising my hands in a calming manner. 

"It's just that... I feel I need to be doing something else," I stutter. Why did I come here without any preparation? I should have laid out some kind of excuse, some well-spoken words that won't make me look like an idiot. "I'm done with this. I can't do it anymore."

Miss Barry looks at me, unable to hide the regret on her face. 

"You have been with us for..."

"Four years," I finish her sentence. "And I'm very grateful for the opportunity, Miss Barry. I really am. But I think it's time for me to do something else."

"Like what?" she wants to know, raising an eyebrow. "You know, if you want to go to college or something, this would be the perfect job to fund that. You could cut down on the clients and still make enough to-"

"I know," I say, biting my lip as I interrupt her again. She is right, and it's not like I haven't considered the option. I started this job as soon as I could, at 18 years old, and when I first started, I thought it would be a great way to pay my way through college. That and nothing else. I even took a few classes but soon realized that none of them held my interest for longer than a few weeks. I've never been the scholarly type; never did well in school, and my options for college were limited at best. It didn't come as a surprise that it didn't come as easy to me as it did to others. It felt more like something I should do, not something I want to do. 

"I don't think college is the right way for me," I say, nervously fiddling with my fingers. "I just... I don't know. I think I need to try something else."

I lower my gaze, but I can feel Miss Barry's eyes on me, holding me down, paralyzing me while painful silence spreads between us. Is she waiting for me to speak? But what could I possibly tell her if I don't even know myself? All I know is that this job was okay for a while, but it no longer is. I need something else, another job that is okay. That's all I'm asking.

Miss Barry lets out an exasperated sigh. 

"I'll be frank with you, Elene," she says. "I'm not happy about this. You're one of our most popular girls, and we love having you here. I don't like the idea of losing you. And you know it's not only your looks that make you an asset to this agency. You're smart and a great conversationalist – your evaluations often mention that the clients genuinely enjoy spending time with you, aside from the play part they get to enjoy."

I swallow hard, unsure of what to respond. Is she trying to lure me back with this praise?

Miss Barry leans forward, placing her elbows on the table while she fixates me with her eyes. Her gaze is intense and piercing. It's making me feel uncomfortable, but somehow I still manage to withstand without blinking.

"Be honest with me, honey," she says in a low voice. "What is it that suddenly bothers you about this job? Is it the sex part?"

I bite my lower lip. 

"You can tell me," she encourages. "There's no room for secrets here."

I take another deep breath. "Quite frankly, yes, it is. It didn't... bother me, at first, but I no longer feel comfortable doing this."

She nods. "It didn't bother you?"

Our eyes meet, and she tilts her head to the side in a questioning manner while I just retort her look with a puzzled expression. 

"No, it didn't bother me," I repeat, confused.

"Well, maybe I'm being naive, but I like to think that our girls actually enjoy their job," Miss Barry says. "And that they aren't just 'not bothered' by it."

"Oh, I..." 

Dammit. How do I get out of that one?

Miss Barry chuckles. "It's alright, honey, don't worry about it. You don't have to tell me what I want to hear. I value your honesty. Besides, you always did a very good job. I've heard nothing but the utmost praise for you, which is why I'm so surprised to hear that you didn't actually enjoy it. People usually don't get this good at something they don't enjoy."

I feel myself blushing. It's not the first time that I heard of this. Most of my clients have been more than charming, showering me with compliments and gifts, and almost all of them wanted to see me again after they'd paid for me once. 

It always surprised me. How could they feel something I didn't feel? Why was this so much more to them than it was to me? Maybe it was just in the nature of things. After all, they were the ones paying me. But what if it's more than that? It could be. 

"So, if I understand correctly, you want to quit, but you don't have an actual plan of what to do next. Is that correct?" Miss Barry interrupts my quiet musings. 

I nod reluctantly. "Yes… you could say that."

Her eyes rest on me for a few moments, her deep red lips moving as she ponders her next words, or her next question. I feel terribly uncomfortable and wish for nothing more than for this conversation to be over. I expected it to be unpleasant, but I also hoped for it to be quick and over by now. Miss Barry must have girls quit all the time; I don't understand why she's acting so hurt about this. 

"I may have a proposition for you," she says, watching as I arch my eyebrows in surprise. 

"A proposition?"

"A way for you to continue working for me without the part that you no longer feel comfortable with," she elaborates. 

"What do you mean?" I ask her. "An office job? Here? Like accounting or something?"

She smiles, shaking her head.  "No, we're all set on that front," she says. "But we're looking to expand our business and create something new, something very special and unique."

She pauses, observing my reaction as I hang on to her lips, my eyes wide with curiosity. 

"I haven't told any of the girls about it so far, because it's not official yet," she continues, casting me a conspiratorial look. "Would you like to hear about it?"

Our eyes meet in a silent stare-off for a few moments, before I respond with a voiceless nod.