Daddy's Girl

Chapter 2 - Shitting Where You Eat

It all feels like a lucid dream to me now, but somewhere in my past life, I was a student at the local university. There I excelled in all of my subjects. I was called a star student. In the ranks of the top of my class. Eventually, I was even given a job as an unpaid intern for a well-known PR agency. While the job itself didn't help to pay off a lick of my student debt it was a major step toward a promising and exciting career. It drove me to quickly progress and I was eventually granted access to special events hosted by the agency.

Extravagant parties, galas, auctions, charity dinners... All with the most exclusive guest lists. Once introduced to the lifestyle I had become fascinated by it. The wealth and glamour intoxicated me and it soon became my dream to run an agency of my very own one day. I would have done anything to fulfill that dream. So even when things took a turn for the worst I stayed.

At first, my job was simple enough. Glamorous parties aside, I was simply there to observe and run remedial errands like fetching coffee between the daily desk work. That was until the day my boss, Mr. Berkley, coerced me into very different duties. Far less ethical ones. When his clients were on the fence, when contracts were pending, I was used to sway them in his favor.

'It's hard to say no to a girl on her knees.' He'd said.

Of course, at the time, I immediately rejected his sick and twisted proposal, but my moral high ground quickly caved beneath my feet when he went so far as to threaten my career. He knew I was young and easily manipulated. Far too frightened and naive to question or combat the unchecked power of a man of his stature. Not to mention he promised me a cut from each successful 'transaction'.

The first time it happened I cried myself to sleep. Then as time went on the gut-wrenching shame and disgust I felt seemed to dissipate. In fact, before long, I felt nothing at all. Wrapping my lips around another sleazy businessman was as common practice as my desk work. In the end, I was making just enough money to pay off my loans and ditch my part-time job as a lowly barista. I renounced whatever faith I'd had in the girl I used to be and kneeled to a new creed. -But when you pray like that your bound to summon something evil.

It first began to manifest on the lips of hushed voices throughout the agency during coffee breaks and lunch hours. Word quickly spread that my boss had been desperately pitching his newest and brightest ideas to a man named Negan. A local celebrity and a multi-million dollar bachelor who had a knack for predicting the rise and fall of investments. The papers called him 'the epitome of success', a 'charming socialite', and most of all, he was 'drop dead gorgeous'. Everyone wanted a piece of him. Needless to say, when word came that Negan would be attending our glitterati dinner party, Mr. Berkley spent weeks in preparation.

When the night finally came Berkley picked me up at my humble apartment stacked on top of a small coffee shop. I waited by the windows for his glossy black club car. When he arrived I came hopping down the stoop in my hand-me-down Christian Louboutin heels. As I climbed into the car Berkley was smoothing a hand over his thinning gray hair, carefully inspecting himself in the window's reflection. I could already tell by the way he primped and tugged his tie that he was practically sweating through his suit.

"I expect you to be on your best behavior tonight. Everything you've been working for comes down to this very evening. Do you understand? You should be ready and waiting for anything. Every beck and call. And you're not to speak a word unless you're spoken to first. Are we clear?" He commanded with a firm almost fatherly tone.

"Yes sir," I complied.

As the driver lurched forward I took a deep breath to settle my nerves but it was no use. I smoothed my hands over my nameless black cocktail dress, wondering if I'd made the right choice. Of course, it wasn't as if I had much else to choose from. In an attempt to numb my worried mind I glanced down at my phone, only to find my most recent online search. Images of the man they called Negan were splayed across the small screen. I quickly tapped out of it and buried my phone in my clutch. Something in my bones told me that man was going to be a problem.