Trina had a really bad feeling about this, but something told her this opportunity was her only chance. As she moved further into LIVE nightclub, the beat of the music pulsed through her veins, but she didn't care to dance. The place was extremely packed, which she'd expected given that it was the most popular nightclub in Aspen Valley. The large crowd helped her blend in with the bodies, but this also served to flare up her anxiety. She'd purposely chosen the nightclub because it wasn't in her town and that meant there was minimal chance that she'd bump into anyone who she did business with at the dry cleaners.

She couldn't miss this chance. However uncomfortable this felt to her, she saw no other way to quickly resolve her issue.

"We're hiring night waitresses and we expect to bring six or more on board starting next week. You must be extra easy on the eyes, have experience as a waitress, and wear the uniform we supply. We're not a normal nightclub as I'm sure you're aware…" the hiring manager had said on the phone when she'd called about the job.

Trina spotted a waitress balancing a tray of cocktails in one hand and using the other hand to take cash and hand out drinks. The beautiful, buxom blonde did this all while maneuvering through the bustling crowd in an outfit so dainty it looked like something an exotic dancer would wear. The suggestive outfit or risqué atmosphere didn't surprise Trina. When she'd seen the ad in the newspaper, she made the drive to the city to scope out the place. Before she had even called the hiring manager, she knew what she was getting herself into.

"…the starting pay is thirty dollars an hour and you keep all your tips. You push drinks and our merchandise all night long. We have three, six, and eight-hour shifts here. You set your schedule but you must come to work at least three nights a week."

Where else could she earn thirty dollars an hour working part time just a few nights a week? The money would be quick and easy, just like an old friend who used to pole dance to pay her college tuition told her. If Trina got the job and kept up the work for five months, she could make enough to pay for the majority of her father's next surgery. To make up the difference, she was certain profits from the business would kick in.

It seemed to take Trina forever to get through the swarm of bodies to the back office where the security guard told her to wait in line to meet Leo, the hiring manager. As soon as she made it, she realized that she wasn't the only one waiting to be interviewed. There were four women lined up, two of them leaning against the wall, and the other two standing with arms crossed, looking impatiently. They were young women, around her age group, with one of them looking at least a decade younger than Trina. As the fifth woman, Trina took her place.

The leggy redhead in front of her turned and sneered. After looking Trina up and down, she wrinkled her nose and then snapped her attention forward again in a dismissive manner. The redhead was thin and couldn't have weighed more than one hundred pounds, but Trina had to admit the girl had good genes going for her with her dainty model looks.

Trina knew she was taller than the average women and preferred to carry a little cushion versus walking around covered in just skin and bones. She wondered exactly what Leo would measure them on.

She nibbled her lips as she suddenly realized that she'd have competition. There were only six positions available, as Leo had said, and she was sure this wasn't the first set of interviews. Aside from the short time she'd worked as a waitress at a small restaurant when she was in college, she didn't have that much concrete experience. What would she do now? Boast about her high SAT scores, stellar GPA, and marketing degree to win the job?

Trina sighed. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea.

A blue postcard tacked to a bulletin board above her head caught her attention. Her eyes zoned in on the HELP WANTED title. "Bachelor Looking For Temporary Wife," it read. "Marriage union will last six weeks and three days. Temporary wife will be compensated fairly. Money is negotiable and payable in installments. Marriage for convenience only. No other duties required."

A telephone number was written at the bottom, but there was no name.

What type of man would place an ad like that? Better yet, how desperate could one get to propose something like this?

She swallowed as her cognizance told her that seeking employment at an adult entertainment club was no better and maybe slightly worse than putting up an ad in search of a temporary wife. After all, her own desperation for money had led her here.

The door to the office opened and a slim, attractive woman stepped out. Trina plucked the card from the board and stuck it down into her jeans pocket.

"Ladies," the woman said, walking down the hallway assessing each one of them. "Thank you for being on time. I'm Brenda, Leo's assistant, and will be interviewing you first. There are two interviews. One with me, and if you pass that we will consider you for round two."

Trina's instinct told her that Brenda was a shifter. No ordinary human had eyes the color of brass. Sometimes you could recognize the shifters by sight, mannerisms, but sometimes you couldn't recognize them at all since they were so well adapted to human ways.

"I've worked at one of Leo's sister clubs," the redhead stated, smacking and blowing on her gum. "Do I still need to go through all this?"

Brenda pursed her lips and her eyes twitched as though she seemed disturbed about being interrupted. "If you want to get hired again, you go through the same steps." She returned the front of the line. "To the right, there is a dressing room with dozens of clean uniforms. Take your pick. Once you're dressed, meet me back here. Your first interview begins now…on the job."

Trina's mouth widened before she could stop herself. Was Brenda suggesting that they start the job as part of the interview process…like now?

No one—except for the redhead—moved in the direction of the dressing room.

"Um…now." Brenda placed her hands on her hips and stared at them. "What are we waiting for? Here's the first test: you have fifteen minutes to get ready. Now go."

Trina stared at the woman in disbelief. She had to bite her tongue to keep from protesting. After all, this wasn't all about her. She needed the money for her father's surgery.