Meeting Mr. Mogul

By: Mel Ryle



I didn’t know how long I submerged in the tub. It wasn’t until I heard Terry’s loud voice calling my name that I realized I fell asleep. But before I could get up and answer him, the bathroom door suddenly opened. I screamed as a man, wearing square glasses, a fitted white linen shirt, and jeans, burst in.

“What the—Get out!” I threw the nearest bottle at him in mortification.

“Andy, there you are!” Terry exclaimed as he appeared behind the stranger, looking at me with relief. “Oh,” he breathed in alarm as soon as he grasped the situation.

I looked at him in anger and embarrassment and pointed at the door. “Get out! Both of you!” I snapped, which made Terry and the stranger walk out of the room frantically. This had to be the most humiliating encounter I have had with a man, straight or not.





Three





When I finished my bath, I silently slipped out of the tub, made sure to close the door behind me, and got myself dressed with the clothes I brought in. I took a steady breath before stepping outside, where I heard Terry’s voice. He was talking to someone.

“Hey,” I greeted as I stopped on the threshold leading to the living room. They were sitting in my makeshift bed, a.k.a Terry’s couch.

“Andy, I would like you to meet Andrew,” Terry said proudly. He was smiling from ear to ear as he said those words. It was the first time I saw him glow with happiness since I met him.

I walked towards the couch and offered Andrew my hand, which he shook without hesitation. “Nice meeting you, Andrew,” I said with a friendly smile. “Do you need some alone time?” I asked Terry after releasing Andrew’s hand.

“No. We are good,” he replied with a small smile and then looked away.

I didn’t reply after he said that. I understood clearly from the way Terry blushed and turned away that he felt sheepish.

“Oh, I forgot to tell you something this morning. Are you still looking for a job?” Terry asked when his expression turned back to normal. His eyebrow slightly rose in question when I didn’t reply.

“Yes, I’m still looking,” I replied after a moment, glancing at Andrew on the couch, who just looked clueless. But when he caught me looking at him, he quickly averted his gaze. From the way he looked away from me, it was clear that he was embarrassed.

“A friend of mine is looking for an assistant. It pays well,” he emphasized the last word, clearly luring me with that last statement. He knew that I needed the money, and a job that pays well is very welcome — as long as it doesn’t involve me selling my body.

I stayed silent as I cautiously thought of an appropriate reply. After a few moments, Andrew broke the tense mood when he stood up. “I think I’ll be going now. I still have some things to finish up.”

Terry jumped up from his seat and turned to Andrew. “I’ll see you out. Andy and I have to get to work in a few minutes, anyway,” he said softly to him.

Andrew nodded in reply and turned to me with a friendly smile. “It was nice meeting you, Andy,” he said as he stood up from the couch.

I stayed in the living room and sat in my makeshift bed while I waited for Terry to get back. Terry wouldn’t be returning for a couple of minutes, so I took that time to get ready for work. When I was done, and he still hadn’t turned up, I sat on the couch again and waited for him to come back. By the time he did, he abruptly stopped a foot away from the couch, looking at me with curiosity.

“You’re very friendly and accommodating today. Why is that?” he asked, still eyeing me suspiciously.

“Is it that hard to believe? I don’t always have a foul mood,” I replied with a smirk.

“True. But you looked like you wanted to say more,” he disputed with a soft chuckle as he sat beside me. “So are you ready to go?” he asked, looking at me from d to toe.

“This doesn’t look ready to you?” I asked, feeling a little insulted. Maybe my plain white shirt, jumper, and Converse aren’t an appropriate outfit for him.

“I may not be the kind of guy you expect, but I still know fashion, woman,” he stated cockily, his lips twitched in amusement.

I lightly punched his shoulder before standing up. “Let’s go before you receive more than a punch from me. I don’t want to murder anyone yet. It’s still too early in the evening for that,” I said as I grabbed my jacket and satchel, shaking my head in disbelief.





Peak hours in the restaurant started at seven in the evening. I was jumping from table to table, taking orders, and serving meals. The night started out like any other. The only difference was that I didn’t have a whole roster of douches I had to cater.

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