Metal Bars and Mishaps

Chapter One

Octavia's POV:

            I walked along Herengracht canal shoving my hands deeper into my pockets as dark storm clouds                   rolled over the 14 Century Dutch architecture. My body ached for a hot cappuccino from Coffee Bru, but I solemnly passed my favorite little coffee house and headed into Pizza Pizza. Pizza Pizza is the worst restaurant to exist in the history of the earth, and now I’m employed there.

            A grumpy looking man, who looked as if he had eaten a few too many times at his own restaurant, threw me a shirt and grumbled, “Put it on, you start now.”  To his, and the surrounding customers surprise, I gave him my best dazzling smile and stripped off my t-shirt, revealing my black lacy bra. Jaws dropped throughout the restaurant, including those of my boss. I smirked and pulled on my ugly camel colored work shirt, white was too expensive I guess.

            “Close your mouth sir, this is a working environment. We wouldn’t want to be inappropriate, now would we?” I purred.

            “Actually,” he said slyly, “I have a just the right task in mind for you.” He pulled me to the back of the restaurant and continued. “This place is in need for a serious renovation,” he glanced at the cracking wallpaper surrounding us and the mold that crept up the walls. It continued all the way around the space, even growing on the pots and pans in the kitchen the next room over.“ If you can’t tell already, we need all the money we can get. We could use that chest of yours as our secret weapon. Let’s make a deal; ever thought of being an escort? We can split the profit 50/50, plus, it’s good experience right? You can keep the title of a waitress for the meanwhile. After all, you need a job to have a job.”

            “You’ve got a deal,” I said thoughtfully “But first, let’s discuss my hours.”

                                                                                                                                                               

“Here’s your new uniform,” he says as he now, much more gently, hands me a pile of much too small clothes. Two more blacks lace bras, four black corsets with hot pink lining, three pairs of fishnet tights, and a pair of nine inch heels. He must have been waiting for me to show up for a while.

 I gulp, seeing the unfamiliar objects in my hands. Was I really doing this?

“Oh, I forgot to give you these. Wear them as a cover up and remember, these come off as soon as the night starts,” he said seductively, “But we have time to kill, so why don’t you try these on for me now?”

I shuddered, resisting the urge to flick him off.

“Thanks, but no thanks. I’ll be here tomorrow morning at eight.” I said as I turned my back, prepared to stomp out the door.

“Oh no you won’t, escorts have night shifts, showing up any earlier than 8PM won’t help you. You will work only on weekends from 8PM-4AM and you will do your job well. Goodnight!” he shouted at me and I pick up my bike to head home.

“Fine, I’ll see you tomorrow, if you’re lucky enough.” I yelled back disgracefully as I left. I knew there was going to be a lot more preparation to this job than staying in shape. I needed to get a good night’s sleep if I was going to be able to do my job tomorrow at all without having a mental break down.