Page 5 of The Enforcer

“Exactly. Where did I go wrong, if I did?”

“Some people can present themselves as the absolute perfect candidate and turn out to be the worst employees. It’s all an act. Others can be the absolute worst interview because they’re nervous and turn out to be superstars. It’s a crap shoot. I think you lost with Amber. Finish this before she gets to the end of her probation period and then throw the dice again.” Carla squeezed her arm. “But for god’s sake, don’t blame yourself.”

Alicia released the breath she hadn’t known she was holding. “Thanks, Carla. Coming from you, that makes me feel so much better.”

“Glad I could help. If she doesn’t show, let the other subs know. We’ll cover her shift.”

“You’re paid members…”

“And it’s our club, and we want to enjoy it. Amber makes that very difficult. You work too hard. Everyone says so—on both sides of the wall. Why don’t you come and play on our side?”

“Oh, no,” Alicia said, feeling the heat rise in her cheeks. “I’m not a submissive or a Domme, and besides nobody needs to see my chubby body squeezed into a corset and thong. Not a sight for the faint of heart.”

Carla shook her head. “You’d better hope none of the Doms hear you talk like that. Besides, there’s nothing a corset likes better than a woman with curves. They take the stuff you don’t like and reshape it into the parts you like best. I’ll bet if we dressed you up and did your hair and makeup, you’d be fighting them off with a stick. I’m serious. If you’re still here when I leave, I’m telling Seth… no, Brock. I think he might be the club’s best disciplinarian.”

Giving her arm another squeeze, Carla headed through the door that led to the inner sanctum of Club Southside: the lounge, the dressing rooms, and the dungeon itself. Walking behind the desk, Alicia found the mess Amber had left. Tamping down her temper, Alicia began to straighten things up again. About half an hour after her start time, Amber breezed in. That was the only way to describe it. She came through the door like the whole world had been waiting for her.

“Hi, Alicia. Sorry I’m late,” drawled Amber.

Alicia didn’t believe for even a second that Amber was sorry. “Amber, this is the fifth time since you started that you haven’t shown up on time for work, and you only started last week.”

“Is it? I didn’t know you were counting.”

“Of course, I am. For one thing, I have to cover when you’re not here, and I have things to do after work…”

“You? What could you possibly have to do that is anywhere near this exciting?”

If only she knew. “It doesn’t matter if it’s exciting. I have things to do, and when you don’t show up on time, it takes away from the time I have to do them.”

Amber sniffed. “Well, sometimes the L runs late…” she started as she removed her coat and moved to hang it on the coat rack.

“Then take an earlier train. If I can’t depend on you to be here on time, I’m going to have to look for someone else.”

Amber glanced at her as if she’d grown a second head. “That’s not going to happen,” said Amber with a snort. “I’ve already got several of the Doms looking me over…”

“According to the subs, most of them are wondering how long I’m going to put up with you. I don’t want to let you go. Just be on time, okay?”

Alicia could tell Amber didn’t believe her—either that there were those who didn’t care for her, or that she’d done anything wrong. She was one of those women who men couldn’t help looking at. She was tall, blonde, with perfect hair, perfect teeth, and the perfect size eight wardrobe. The problem was anyone looking closely could see most of all that perfection was fake. Her hair was dyed, her teeth were capped, her smile was fake, and that perfect set of boobs came from implants.

Alicia looked down. She could see what Amber saw—a rather shlumpy woman in a pencil skirt that was at least two sizes too big for her, an ill-fitting sweater and non-descript flats. She had mousy brown hair and a frame that carried a few too many extra pounds. Alicia was aware of the picture she presented—although she often wondered why Brock couldn’t see past it, but even though he was one of Cerberus’ best operatives, he was, after all, just a guy. Alicia had a reason for dressing like this: it was camouflage. No one gave her a second glance, and that was just the way she wanted it.

There was a part of her that desperately wanted to play at Club Southside, but she knew she never would. For one thing, members at Club Southside—for the most part—didn’t play. They lived the lifestyle, and as she’d said to Brock, she wasn’t a sub. She couldn’t afford to be, even though there was a part of her she hid, even from herself, who longed to be.

The Doms were all good-looking, but more than that, they were good to the subs. A Dom, or Domme, didn’t get out of line more than once. If the infraction was serious enough, they were tossed out on their ear. If given a second chance, they were watched with an eagle eye and could lose their privileges at any time.

The last thing Alicia needed to do, however, was call attention to herself. The club’s rules clearly stated subs were required to wear fet wear anywhere outside the submissives’ salon. Once they walked through those doors that led from the building’s lobby into the club itself, members were expected to dress appropriately. Fet wear for subs in the dungeon and the lounge. Leathers for Doms or fet wear for Dommes on the dungeon floor, although they could be in street wear in the lounge.

Alicia loved working for Cerberus and loved hanging around the club and all the employees. Okay, maybe not Amber, but she’d come with good references, and they really needed someone to act as a receptionist or hostess for the club.

Gathering her things together, Alicia raced out the door to catch the L. If she got lucky, she could make it to her own little slice of heaven: the Majestic, a burlesque club in the heart of the Chicago Blues neighborhood. Once inside, she could throw away her cares, metamorphosize and unleash her alter ego, Sonata Royale. Alicia ran up the stairs to the elevated platform and barely managed to get onto the train before the doors closed behind her, almost catching the hem of her frumpy skirt.

She moved to the back of the train where no one could sneak up behind her, and she could see everything. She’d almost been caught unawares once and had never let her guard down again. If she was too tired to be vigilant, she didn’t go out. It was that simple. Even though she’d had a long day and the confrontation with Amber had been draining, she could feel her soul coming back online. Alicia settled in. Wedging her body into the corner and pulling out her make-up bag from her hobo purse, she began to transform herself into one of the headliners at the club.

As the L pulled into the station closest to the club, Alicia glanced at her watch and grinned. It would seem luck was with her. She was the last one to step off the train, almost getting her hem caught again. She glanced around. Perusing the crowd and seeing no one familiar or that looked like a threat, she headed to the stairs, trotting down them to the street.

Luckily the Majestic was just across the well-lit street, and one of the bouncers was waiting outside the alley, keeping watch for the entertainers.

“Miss Sonata,” he said, tipping his imaginary cap.

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