Staring down at the toast, Tyler found his appetite had deserted him. It was nearly eight.
“I guess it’s now or never,” he said
“You not eating that toast?”
“No, Alistair. Have it.”
“Hope you enjoy your sex swing,” Alistair said as he dragged the plate toward him. “I reckon I can eat now, you know.”
Tyler smiled weakly and walked out of the room. Estate agents wouldn’t rent a single place to him until he had a letter from his employer stating that he was permanently employed. He absolutely must pass his probation. Three months in this hole would drive out of his mind.
In the hallway, he checked himself out in the large mirror above the ancient radiator. As it was a warm Monday in May, he had been able to wear only a suit. Tyler hated having to put a coat over the top. It totally ruined the look and his sleeves always got bunched up inside. Today, he’d chosen a navy-blue cotton number with a salmon pink shirt.
The outfit worked perfectly against his light brown hair and pale skin. He pushed his tortoise-shell glasses up on his nose and nodded to his reflection.
He was ready.
The bright orange warehouse stood out next to its drab grey neighbours on the industrial estate. When Tyler had applied for a job in the ultimate seaside-postcard town of Brighton, he’d envisioned wandering along the promenade to work. In his daydream, he’d seen himself stopping for an artisan coffee and pastry then enjoying the sunshine as he listened to the waves and the gulls crying.
Not quite.
He’d been disappointed when he’d arrived for his interview. Pleasure Seekers resided on a dreary business park on the outskirts of town, surrounded by fields. Not one coffee bean could be smelt in the air.
Then when he’d stepped inside, he’d known he had to get this job. No matter what. The office was decorated in bright modern colours and the people coming in and out seemed to be genuinely happy. The success story of the company since the pandemic was incredible. Pleasure Seekers stood out as one of the biggest growth stories of the modern age.
Tyler had devoured every news clipping before his interview. From the outset he’d had a good feeling about this job application over all the others.
Taking a second, he allowed the anticipation to flutter through his system.
“Best foot forward, Jones. You got this.”
He strode into the building and waited for the lift.
Once he got to the top level, a very smiley individual seated behind a glass desk greeted him.
“Hello, again,” she said.
They’d met when he had come for his interview. She had broken through his nerves with some kind words.
“Hello, Charlotte. I made it.”
She stood. “You certainly did. Don’t tell anyone but you were my favourite. One of the other candidates stormed out when they mentioned anal probes.”
“Had they not done their research?”
Charlotte shrugged. “Best they found out then, I suppose. I’ll let Christine know you’re here.”
She sat and typed furiously at the keyboard. Tyler remembered the conversation about vibrators in his interview. It made sense that they had to root out people who would be freaked out. It appeared to work too.
He stared up at the hugePleasure Seekerssign behind Charlotte. For a split second, he could understand the fear of workingat such a company. He had no real idea what would be expected of him. His last job had been making sure a string of bookshops had decent stationery suppliers and cleaners.
You’re good enough for this. Get a grip.
“She’s on her way,” Charlotte said. “Don’t be so nervous. I’ve sat here for two years now. I get to know who is right for this place and who isn’t.”
Tyler grinned. “What did you think of me?”
“Oh, you’re the Pleasure Seekers type. I saw that as soon as you walked in. I told Christine too.”