Chapter 6 Job

A few seconds later, the elevator doors chimed open. Farah stepped out first, and I followed right behind her. The hallway was lined with numerous rooms, each labeled with a door number. We stopped in front of room 21. Farah pulled a key from her pocket and unlocked the door.

“This is your room...” She paused and turned to look at me.

“Fayre,” I introduced myself, extending my hand. She accepted it with a smile before showing me inside.

“This is your room, Fayre. No men allowed in here, or Boss will have your head. The room is fully furnished, so you can go ahead and unpack your clothes. I’ll just grab your uniform from your locker so you can try it on,” she said as we stepped inside.

“Oh, please don't bother! I can get it myself,” I said self-consciously.

I didn't want to be a burden. Being the newcomer, it felt wrong to let her run errands for me.

“I’ll grab it for you; you just focus on getting settled. Get some rest, too; you had a long trip coming here.” She gently took hold of my arms and guided me to sit on the bed.

Rather than argue and draw things out, I let it be. She excused herself to fetch the uniform while I placed my bag on the table. My eyes swept across every corner of the room.

It wasn't particularly large, but the bed was spacious enough for one or two people. Built-in cabinets stood opposite the bed, providing just enough space for my belongings, accompanied by a modest desk and chair off to the side. Despite its small size, the room felt cozy and comfortable.

Standing up, I opened the sole inner door. It led to a private bathroom complete with a toilet and sink. Everything was painted crisp white, making the whole space look bright and clean from every angle.

I returned to the bed and sat down, reaching into my small crossbody bag to pull out my keypad phone. I already missed my kids, even though it had only been a few hours since I last saw them.

They were still fast asleep when I left early this morning. I hated seeing them cry whenever I departed, knowing it would break my heart and tempt me to stay behind. But I was doing this for them, to give them the things they deserved. They never directly asked me for anything; I only found out through Zav and Zoe.

Amer’s phone rang for several seconds before he finally picked up.

“How’s it going over there, Fay?” Amer greeted.

“How are my kids? Did they cry when they realized I was gone? Did they look for me? What are they doing right now? Are you taking good care of them?” I peppered him with questions in a single breath.

I was sick with worry about the twins. What if they were throwing a tantrum or looking for me? They were just kids, after all, and it was only natural for them to react that way when their mother left.

“Calm down, Fay! Your kids are doing fine. They did look for you this morning, though. Both of them cried when they saw you weren't in bed, but thankfully, my little trick worked, and they calmed down. Right now, they’re eating those chocolates I found in your cabinet, they said it's their favorite,” he said from the other end of the line.

A wave of relief washed over me. I had feared the worst, half-expecting to rush back home if they were throwing a massive fit. Thankfully, Amer was a natural at comforting them. The chocolates Zav and Zoe bought certainly came in handy, too.

“And what kind of silly lie did you tell my kids?” I asked sternly.

I heard him chuckle on the other end, letting out a dramatic cough before answering. “Well... I told them I’d go find their daddy as long as they stopped crying. And guess what? It worked like a charm, Fay!”

My blood ran cold at his words. “'Worked like a charm,' my foot, you idiot! What if they actually start looking for their dad because of what you said, Amer?! Rihav cannot see them! What if he takes them away from me just because I don't have money?! For goodness' sake, Amer!” My voice spiked with rising anger and frustration.

Out of all the excuses and lies in the world, why did he have to bring up their father? Didn't he understand how vital it was that Rihav never set eyes on my children?!

“Fay, I’m so sorry! I didn't know what else to do with both of them crying at once. I’m really sorry! I’ll just trick them again and say their dad drowned in soup or something! I promise it won't happen again. Anyway, you probably have to get to work, bye!” he blurted out, hanging up before I could even get another word in.

I let out a heavy sigh. Just wait till I get back to La Meyanda, you’re dead meat, Amer!

By late afternoon, it was time to report for work at Highden. I was taken aback by how short the skirt Farah gave me was. I wasn't overly conservative about clothing, but wearing a skirt that barely reached my mid-thigh made me feel deeply uncomfortable. I wore shorts back home, but never anything this revealing.

Stepping in front of the full-length mirror in my room, I inspected my reflection. I bit my lip as I took in my whole appearance. I hadn't realized just how much weight I had lost after giving birth. The snug top accentuated my bust and brought out my waistline. For the first time, I noticed how surprisingly defined my hips and curves looked.

I grabbed the hem of my top and pulled it back to cinch it tighter, shaking my head as my figure became even more pronounced. My irregular eating habits had undoubtedly contributed to my weight loss. I often skipped meals simply because I prioritized my work over food. The only times I ate properly were when Amer or the Madreal twins were around, as they would scold me if I put work before my meals. Left with no choice, I’d eat just to appease them.

“Girl, are you ready? Our shift is about to start!” I heard Farah call out from the hallway.

I adjusted my outfit one last time before stepping out. I was immediately greeted by Farah, whose outfit was entirely different from mine, I wasn't even sure what her job role was. Her skirt was even shorter than mine, and her top consisted of a black bra paired with a see-through crop top. She also wore thigh-high stockings and tall boots.

“Why do you look so shocked?” Farah asked with a soft laugh at my reaction.

I blinked repeatedly. “Why are you dressed like that? What’s your job here?” I asked curiously.

I wasn't trying to pry, but her outfit genuinely startled me. It left very little to the imagination. Didn't she feel self-conscious? Here I was, feeling uneasy in a short skirt, while she was practically bare.

“Call girl...” she replied softly, her eyes narrowing slightly. “You’ll see me performing on stage later.”

I nodded slowly as we entered the elevator to head down to the club. I understood her profession and had no right to judge her for it. I didn't know what circumstances drove her to this line of work.

We shouldn't judge a person without knowing their story.

That was a lesson ingrained in me since my college days. We couldn't completely avoid societal stigma, but compassion should always come first. Everyone has feelings, and harsh words can cut deeply.