Jessa James - Club V

“That is because you are dating boys, baby. It’s time you found yourself a man to date. I’m serious. You need to find yourself a full-grown gentleman who knows what’s up. Keep your eyes peeled in NYC. Those executive types are always crowding those places. You need to find one to help you out and then never let that guy go.”

The train ride into the city the next evening was long and unfamiliar. I could have driven but that would have just been a nightmare. I had found a subway map on my phone and was referring to it every once in a while to make sure I didn’t miss my stop. Unwilling to be mistaken for a tourist, I held my head high and tried to give off an air of knowing what I was doing, even though I was a little afraid to be traveling to the city on my own. It wasn’t something I did much of and though I felt very confident in my own abilities, I couldn’t let my guard slip and discount the kind of crime that women sometimes experienced on public transit.

It was a rude reminder a few stops down the line, when an older man got on the train and stood in front of my seat, his crotch almost in my face. I got up and moved down the train only to find him close at my heels. Uncertain of his intentions—whether pervy or just downright criminal—I stood next to another woman and watched the man as he stopped and stared at me, a wide, gold-toothed grin spreading across his face.

It had been a mistake to get on the train already dressed for work. Fishnets, heels, and a miniskirt spelled one thing to people on the train and I just hoped that I looked high end if they were going to make their assumptions. For the duration of the ride I ignored the unwanted attention and finally reached my stop, hopping up and rushing out the doors, along the platform, and up the steps to the street level.

Club V was only a few blocks away from the subway stop and I made it there in almost no time without any further issues from people I met on the street. This Club V, much like the one back at home, was understated from the outside. It seemed to be more of an issue of discretion here though, as many of their clients were actually elite members of society. Sure, back home we had our own and often entertained men that were known to be part of mob families, but here they entertained actors, diplomats, members of the news media, and politicians who were in town making the rounds on various news outlets.

Club V NYC was in what had at one point been a textile factory. It was two stories and each story was slightly exaggerated in height, with the tall windows so common to factories built over a hundred years ago. Most of these windows appeared to be blacked out from the inside to maintain the ambiance Club V was known for, but the beauty of the old building was rather stunning from the outside. Other than the words “CLUB V” on an engraved brass plate near the front door, a person would never know what happened behind these walls. I had a feeling many still didn’t, because you couldn’t use Google to find out much about this place. I knew because I had tried many times before I took the initial job offer over a year before.

I made my way around the side and pressed a button on the employee entrance.

“Yes?” A voice rang out over an intercom.

“Umm…hi. I’m Samara, Samara Tanza. From the New Jersey location. I’m here to bartend for the evening.”

There was a pause and for a moment I wondered if I was going to be turned away and dreaded the long train ride back home.

“Right, right. I’ll buzz you in.”

There was a buzz and a click and I was able to open the heavy door that stood between me and the inside of Club V. It was so heavy that it shut behind me quickly and hard, pushing me inside the small foyer. It was total blackness for a moment and I had to give my eyes a second to adjust to the absence of light. After a few seconds it was clear that it wasn’t truly dark inside, only dim and especially so in this small area of the club.

A woman in a short, skin-tight red bandage dress appeared as if from nowhere and smiled at me, offering her hand in greeting.

“Samara…it’s a delight to meet you. I’m Elle, the director of staffing here. Why don’t you follow me. Jake wanted to see you before you were sent to orientation with one of our lead bartenders.”

I wasn’t sure who Jake was, but assumed that he was the NYC version of Stew and so I followed Elle down the hall to one of the offices.

“Jake is one of our co-owners. He just wanted to do a little run down of a few company policies and let you know what the expectations are here at the NYC location. I’m sure it’s all mostly what you’ve been used to in New Jersey, but there may be a few differences. We pride ourselves on maintaining a very exclusive list of members and do everything we can to preserve their privacy. I think you’ll understand what I’m getting at there.”

I nodded, then realizing she couldn’t see me as I followed her, so I spoke up. “Oh, right. Of course. Yes, we never talk about any of our patrons outside of the club.”

“That’s great,” Elle said. I could hear the smile in her voice. “I’m sure you’ll enjoy getting to know Jake. Here’s his office.”

The office was on the far corner and the door opened to reveal some of those massively tall windows I had seen from the outside, only these weren’t covered and the late evening light filtered into the dim office.

“Jake, this is Samara,” Elle said. She smiled and shut the door behind her, leaving me standing there as Jake turned around slowly in his office chair and stood to greet me.

He grinned as he stood there with his hands stuffed in his front pockets, the light gray suit he wore was well-tailored and fit him perfectly. He was a tall, stunning picture of a man with jet black hair, full lips, olive skin and eyes that hovered somewhere between blue and gray.

I was silent and realized I had been staring, and that he had been also. Unsure of who was expected to speak first, I finally spoke up.

“Hi…Jake.”

He nodded. “I like to see all the new people we bring on board. Just to get an idea of who is new on the floor and who might need some assistance.” He moved around his desk and came forward to greet me, reaching out a hand to shake mine. “Samara? Lovely name.” His words were like butter. I was sure but it sounded like he had the slightest hint of an accent and that made this already incredible looking hunk of a man even more attractive.

“Thank you,” I said, trying to play it as cool as I could. If everyone around this place looked half as good as Jake did, it was going to be a long, but fun night full of eye candy.

“I hope you’ll enjoy your time here. And not that I am looking to poach someone from one of our other locations, but you can be certain that someone of your calibre is always welcome here at Club V NYC. I’ve heard what a great bartender you’ve been in Jersey and you come highly recommended.”

I felt my face flush. “Well, Stew is really kind. I’ve enjoyed working at Club V over the past year and couldn’t imagine a better place for myself.”

Jake rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “What are your long-term goals regarding employment with us?”

No one had ever asked me that question before, other than Stew when he promoted me to bartender after I had been serving for a few months.

“I’ve really enjoyed bartending. To be honest with you it’s the thing that I’m doing to pay for my college tuition. It’s been great for that. The tips are wonderful and I’ve been able to pay for everything myself so far, without any help from my parents.”

Something seemed to flash across Jake’s face. “How old are you?”

“Nineteen,” I answered, not missing a beat.