After getting the clientâs contact, Stella immediately made a call. It was answered by a middle aged man. He sounded very polite as he made an appointment to meet with Stella.
âWould you like me to meet with your child before the lesson starts?â Stella asked. Usually, she would have a trial class with her prospective pupil before setting up the proper curriculum for them. It was quite an elaborate process, but parents who could afford to send their kids to classes at a training center like the one she worked at were generally wealthy. This was especially true for those who requested private tutoring, signifying they had their own ballroom at home.
âNo,â the man replied after a long pause. It sounded as if he was busy. âThereâs no need for that. Iâll interview you first. If you pass, weâll discuss more.â
âOkay,â Stella responded politely. âAnd what time would you like to meet? What kind of information should I prepareâ¦â
âMy secretary will send you an email,â the man interrupted. âYouâll get all the details there. Just be sure you arrive at the designated place on time.â
The man then hung up the phone.
Soon afterward, Stella received a new email.
âLowe Gardenâ¦â
Stella paused. Why would the client want to meet her there?
She didnât think much of it, though. She looked at the time, packed her things, and called a taxi to the appointed place.
Lowe Garden. The outside sign indicated that it was a hotel, but it was an exclusive club with tight security that catered to rich people.
There were many entertainment activities here, but they were only available to the club members.
Regular folk never got a chance to get in unless they had an appointment or if they had a referral from a club member.
This place wasnât exactly wholesome and safe, being a playground for wealthy young men where dubious happenings would ensue, but security here was tighter than most hotels. Stella had to contact the secretary when she arrived before she was allowed to get in.
But then she instantly got a bad feeling when she got inside. There were only two or three people in the lobby. They were sitting on the sofa, chatting rowdily with each other. When they heard her coming in, they all turned towards her in unison.
âIs she the one?â one of them asked.
âI guess so,â a middle-aged man replied. âSheâs wearing the right clothes, and sheâs pretty too ))
The man turned to his companion beside him and added, âSo youâve changed your taste in women, huh? So you like prim and proper women now?â Stellaâs eyes widened in horror and she quickly turned to the secretary behind her.
âIâm here for an interview as a dance teacher!â she quickly said.
The secretary smiled at the two men, then whispered to Stella, âThatâs enough! Thereâs no need to pretend anymore! Weâre all adults here. Just entertain those two gentlemen, and you can get whatever you want!â
âBut⦠youâve made a mistake!â Stella insisted, but the color drained from her face all the same. âI really am here for an interview!â
âWhy are you still standing there?â the middle-aged man waved at Stella. âCome here! Let me take a good look at you!â
The other man was quite hesitant, though.
âMr. Ford will be here soon,â he said. âHe never liked having girls around⦠donât you think this is a little presumptuous of us?â âDoesnât like girls?!â the middle-aged man huffed. âDo you seriously believe that?
Maybe heâs just got expensive taste and looks down on most women!â
The two men chuckled. Stella balled her fists and said nothing. She turned around and was about to leave. âHey, where do you think youâre going?!â Stella hastened her steps and shoved the door open.
As she stepped out, she bumped head-on into the arms of a manâ¦
Weston glared down at the woman who had just dropped into his arms. He thought she was someone the others had arranged for him, so he impatiently pushed her away.
âGet out of my way,â he hissed.