Chapter 4 Chapter Four
“Wait”
The world hung in the cool night air, quit but commanding.
Becky froze, her chest still heaving from the rush of escaping the cigar room. Slowly, she turned back.
The man from before stepped out from the shadow, hands in the pocket, his expression soften from the garden light.
Up close, he was even more strike. Strong jawline, dark eyes that seemed to see deeper that should, his suit looks simple but sharply tailored he spoke of money without shouting it.
He wasn’t just a rich man in this party. Something about the calm way he carried himself—like the noise inside couldn’t touch him—make Becky pause race for reason she couldn’t name.
“I’m Thomas,” he said finally, offering the smallest smile. “Thomas Johnson.”
Her stomach flipped, as Johnson. As in… She recognized the name from whisper from the club, from news headline about one of the youngest billionaire in California. CEO of the water corporation.
And where he was, standing across from her, as if the universe had accidentally dropped her in the wrong life.
“Becky,” she whispered, almost forgetting to breath.
He studied her, head tilted. “So Becky…..why are you hiding out here in the garden instead of inside?” He nodded towards the penthouse, where you could still hear the music faintly through the glass.
Becky hesitated, biting her lips. “I just… need to catch my breath, I’m not used to…parties like this.”
“Not your scene?”
“Not even close.” She gave a shaky laugh. “Honest this my first time… doing anything like this outside my job.”
Thomas studied her, curiosity flickering in his eye. “And what is your job.”
The question hit like a stone, Becky through tightened. She stalled, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, staring at the ground. How could she tell him? That she stripper pulled into this glittering world for the first time?
He seemed to catch her hesitation, his sharp gaze soften. “You don’t have to answer that if you don’t to,” he said easily, recuing her. “I’m guessing something in performance. Maybe… pole dancing?” he voice light, almost testing.
Becky’s parted in surprise. Pole dancing, is wasn’t the hole truth, but is close enough to make her blush. He wasn’t mocking—if anything, he sounded impress.
“I’m not judging.” He added quickly, noticing her silence. “Takes more strength and control than most people would dream of.”
Something in her chest loosened. For the first time that night, she smiled without forcing it.
Thomas leaned back against the wall, folding his arms. “So tell me…what do you like….if not crowded penthouses, with drunk millionaires?” he said jokingly.
Becky laughed softly. “Quiet places. Music. Just…simple things. This garden for example.”
He chuckled, the sound low and warm. “I knew there was a reason I came out here. Needed a break from all the….noise.”
They slipped into an easy rhythm, the city glittering beneath them, the breeze carrying away the lingering scent of champagne and cigars. Thomas spoke of stars you could hardly see in L.A., of running until his lungs gave out, of wanting solitude in a world that never left him alone.
Becky laughed, sharing stories of burnt dinners, rooftops escapes just to feel free, and the quiet dreams she held close when life wasn’t so heavy.
The conversation flowed so naturally that she didn’t notice how much time was passing. For once, she wasn’t the girl hustling, dancing, surviving. She was just Becky—speaking to a man who seemed to actually see her.
Her phone buzzed.
Becky blinked, startled, and pulled it from her sandal strap where she’d tucked it. The screen flashed “unknown number”. Her heart skipped. For a moment she thought it was Red—or worse, her old supervisor.
“Sorry.” She said softly, rising from the bench. “I need to take this.”
A pause. Then a woman’s voice: “Hello ma’am. Am I speaking with Becky White?”
“Yes.” Becky said slowly, “Who’s calling?”
“I’m the acting secretary regarding the recent job you applied for.”
Becky’s heart kicked. A job? She’d applied to so many—half out of desperation, some she didn’t even remember.
“Which company please?”
“Waterfront Incorporation.” The voice said brightly.
Her jaw dropped. “Oh My God” she whispered before catching herself.
“Is everything alright ma’am?”
“Yes! Yes, everything is fine.” Becky said quickly, gripping the phone tighter.
“Wonderful. After reviewing your CV, you’ve been selected as the most suitable candidate for the role. We would like you to come in this morning by 8:30 AM.”
Excitement shot through her veins so sharp she almost jumped. “I’ll be there. Thank you…Thank you so much.”
The call ended, and she stared at her phone, barely able to believe it.
A voice behind her broke the trance. “Good news?”
She turned. Thomas was still there, leaning against the stone wall, his face unreadable but his eyes intent.
“Yeah.” Becky said, smiling without meaning to. “Really good news.”
She glanced at her phone. Nearly 5 a.m. Her stomach dropped. “Oh no— I have to go. I’ve got—an interview in a few hours.”
Before Thomas could answer she grabbed her bag and rushed off. Inside, the party still roared, but Red and the girls were gone. Panic rose as she searched, but time was running out. She gave up, heading gor the street.
A bus stop appeared down the block. Becky climbed onto the first bus heading vaguely towards her side of town and sank into a seat. The city’s lights streaked past, exhaustion pulling at her, but her mind spun.
She thought of Thomas—his voice, his laugh, the way he seemed to see her. And then the interview. Waterfront Incorporation. The chance to change everything.
She pressed her forehead against the glass and whispered, “I can’t mess this up.”
By the time the bus rattled towards home, her heart was already split between the stranger in the garden and the future waiting at dawn.
