A Golden Opportunity
Angel's POV
The only sounds in Mr. Noah's office were the hum of the air conditioner and the quiet rustle of pages as he turned them.
Cassie and three other dancers sat across from him, with Red standing silently behind the desk. I sat among them, my heart strangely calm despite the tension in the air.
He closed the files with a decisive snap, his gaze sweeping over us. "You ladies will be going to LA with me the day after tomorrow."
My head shot up. "Why, Mr. Noah?"
His eyes found mine. "For an interview with the club owner. I know this is sudden, and you may have other plans, but I assure you, you wouldn't want to miss this. Red will email you the details. You may all leave."
The other dancers looked like they were about to bombard him with questions, except Cassie, who looked thrilled. But then Mr. Noah’s voice stopped me before I could formulate my own.
"Angel, not you."
I spun around. He was staring at me, his index finger resting between his lips and nose, his expression unreadable.
"Yes, Mr. Noah," I replied, avoiding his gaze.
"Please, have a seat." I swallowed, the unease tightening in my chest, and sat down.
"I've heard a lot about you, Angel. One thing is that you're the best dancer in the club. Now, enlighten me: is pole dancing a hobby or a talent?"
I had no idea where this was going, but a subtle nod from Red reassured me slightly.
“It's neither, Mr. Noah. I learned recently; it's easy for me because I'm flexible." He remained silent, his dark green eyes fixed on me. I squirmed under his intense scrutiny.
"Why, Angel?"
"Be… because… because I needed the job, Mr. Noah." I hated being questioned about my job. For his sake, I hoped he wouldn't probe into my character; otherwise, I might forget he was my boss.
"I reviewed your resume. You graduated with honors. What stopped you from getting a more…decent and professional job?"
I clasped my hands in my lap, fighting back the emotions threatening to spill over.
"I… I tried, Mr. Noah, but I couldn't get a job with a good company. There was always a reason for rejection." My voice was barely a whisper. My eyes felt hot and wet.
"Why didn't you try harder?" My annoyance flared.
"I couldn't waste any more time, Mr. Noah. I… I have bills to pay, and my mother and brother depend on me. I couldn't afford to keep searching when I could pole dance and earn enough to support my family."
He was silent, watching me. Then he stood, shoving his hands into his pockets.
"Tell me, Angel, have you ever considered the acting industry?" My forehead creased. I tilted my head, confused.
"Mr. Noah…?" A subtle smile played on his lips. He leaned against the desk, his legs crossed.
"Don't overthink it, sweetheart. I believe you'd excel in that field. Go home and get ready for our trip." He flashed a surprisingly warm smile and returned to his chair.
"You can go now, sweetheart. See you Tuesday."
I left his office hesitantly, my head buzzing with questions I couldn't bring myself to ask. I knew I wouldn't get straight answers anyway.
Two Days later
I slipped into a peach-colored palazzo, the fabric clinging to my thighs and ass like a second skin. A matching halter neck top, with a daring opening that hinted at my cleavage, completed the outfit.
My curls tumbled down my back, and after a swipe of gloss and a spritz of perfume, I tucked my phone into my bag and slid into a pair of glass heels.
"Luca," I called out as I reached the kitchen, finding him already preparing breakfast. Wow, up early – a pleasant surprise.
"Hey sis," he grinned, returning to his culinary task.
"That smells amazing," I commented, "Wish I could stay and eat." He spun around, eyebrow raised.
"You're leaving already? Isn't it too early?"
I sighed, joining him to inspect his creation. "Yeah, I know, but Mr. Noah insisted we arrive in LA early. The interview starts at one."
He nodded thoughtfully. "So, you'll be back to Malibu today?"
"I don't know, Luca. Mr. Noah didn't say. If I don't make it back, please take Mom to the hospital – she's being admitted today. I've filled out all the paperwork; you just need to find her room number and the assigned nurse." He nodded, absorbing my instructions.
"And don't forget to—"
"Give her her medication, Granny? I think I've got that covered," he interrupted, a mocking tone in his voice. I glared at him.
"Luca, can you drop me off?" I deployed my best puppy-dog eyes before he could refuse. He groaned, but nodded.
After a short drive, we arrived at my destination. Luca wished me well again. I thanked him, and my way into the club. I found Red in her room, applying makeup.
"Hey Red," I greeted. Her blood-red lips curved into a smile.
"You're early, Angel. Curious about this interview, are we?" She teased, wiggling her eyebrows.
"Who wouldn't be? And after my conversation with Mr. Noah the other day…I'm practically buzzing." She smiled, returning to her makeup.
"Need a little touch-up?" She asked, once finished. I shook my head, smiling slightly. I’m not a big makeup fan; I only bother for important events or performances. Lip gloss is usually enough.
"No, Red, I'm good." She insisted, but I firmly declined.
"Okay, let's go," she conceded, tidying her dresser. Her outfit caught my eye as she stood: a dark blue dress that hit mid-thigh, with a plunging V-neck showcasing her curves. Her fiery red hair cascaded down her back, and smoky eye makeup accentuated her tanned skin. She slipped into heels and sprayed on vanilla-scented cologne before grabbing her bag.
Mr. Noah and the other dancers were waiting in the parking lot.
“Good morning, Mr. Noah," I greeted, offering a smile he returned.
"Hello, Angel. How are you? Ready for the day?" His eyes held a mischievous glint, and I felt a surge of anxiety I quickly masked with a smile.
“Let's go," he announced. I turned to follow the others, but he stopped me.
"You're coming with me, Angel," he informed. I looked between him and Red, confused.
"But—"
"Let's not argue, sweetheart. Let's go." He opened the car door for me. I thanked him with an awkward smile as Red slid into the front seat beside him.
The city skyline whizzed past during our drive to the airport. Mr. Noah's private jet awaited. Again, I wasn't with the others.
"She thinks she's special because she rides with the boss. Bet she's screwing him for special treatment," I heard Cassie hiss, but I ignored her.
People like Cassie – a typical blonde with those coveted blue eyes – were beneath my notice. She hated me because Red had declared me the best dancer, and since my arrival, Cassie claimed she didn't get the guys she wanted.
She was consumed by envy, never missing a chance to throw a jab, her mini-minions supporting her sentiments. It’s one of the reasons I chose not to live at the club; I might end up killing one of them.
"A juice, ma'am?" The flight attendant's voice broke through my thoughts. I thanked her and took the drink.
An hour later, we landed in LA. Three luxury cars were waiting, but this time, I joined the others—only to be stopped by Mr. Noah again. I saw the anger, hate, and jealousy in their eyes, making me feel suddenly insecure.
"Mr. Noah—"
"Don't mind them, Angel. Soon, you'll understand why you're with me." I sighed in defeat and got into the car.