CHAPTER 2: ROCK BOTTOM

The hallway blurred as Ava stormed through it, her chest heaving. Her hands were still shaking, not from fear, but from the raw, burning adrenaline of what had just happened. The sound of that slap echoed in her ears…satisfying, and terrifying.

She didn’t stop walking until she reached the manager’s office. The door was slightly ajar, and she pushed it open hard, letting it bang against the wall.

Hale looked up from his desk, his greasy face calm, almost bored. He didn’t even blink at her fury. He just tapped his pen against the screen of his tablet, looking at her like she was a child throwing a tantrum.

“Done already?” he asked, his voice smooth as oil. “I thought you’d be at least another hour. Did he not like your technique, Ava?”

Ava walked up to the desk, slamming her hands down on the surface. The sound made him finally look up properly.

“You set me up,” she said, her voice low and dangerous. “You knew exactly what he wanted. You told him I was… accommodating.”

Hale leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Oh, come on. Don’t act so innocent. You think men like Nico Jordan pay five thousand dollars for a simple back rub? Please. They pay for the atmosphere. They pay for the company. And sometimes… they pay for more.”

“He tried to touch me!” Ava shouted, the words bursting out. “He thought I was there to sell myself! And you let him think that!”

“Relax,” Hale scoffed, rolling his eyes. “He’s a man. He has needs. You’re a beautiful girl, Ava. Use what God gave you. One night with him and you wouldn’t have to worry about bills for months. Why are you acting like such a prude? This is the Velvet Room, not a church.”

“That’s not why I’m here!” Ava’s voice cracked, tears of frustration stinging her eyes. “I work hard! I give the best massages in this place! I follow every rule! And you throw me to the wolves just because he has money?”

“Wake up, sweetheart,” Hale said, standing up now. He was short, but his presence was vile. “This business runs on pleasure. If you can’t handle the heat, get out of the kitchen. He wanted you. You should have been flattered. Instead, you probably insulted him, didn’t you?”

“I slapped him,” Ava said, chin lifting defiantly.

Hale’s eyes widened for a split second, then he let out a harsh laugh. “You slapped him? Nico Jordan? Are you insane? Do you have any idea who that man is? He owns half this city! People lose their jobs just for looking at him the wrong way!”

“I don’t care who he is!”

“Well, you should care!” Hale shouted back, pointing a finger at her. “Because you just ruined my best client! You think I’m going to keep someone around who bites the hand that feeds us? You’re done, Ava. Pack your things and get out.”

The words hit her like a physical blow. “You’re firing me?”

“Effective immediately,” Hale said, turning back to his computer, dismissing her as if she were trash. “Security will escort you out. Don’t ever come back here. And good luck finding another job when I’m done telling everyone how difficult you are.”

Ava stood there for a long moment, staring at the back of his head. She turned around and walked out.

Outside the air was cold. She took the subway to the hospital, forty minutes of rattling metal and flickering lights. Ava's hands wouldn't stop shaking. She had protected her dignity, but she knew she had just set her life on fire.

In Room 604 at Mount Sinai, the smell of antiseptic hit her. Her grandmother, Margaret, looked smaller today, her skin like parchment.

“There’s my girl,” Margaret whispered, her voice weak behind the oxygen mask.

Ava sat on the edge of the bed, clutching her grandmother’s hand. “Hey, Grams.”

Margaret squeezed back weak, but warm. “You look like you’ve been through a war,” Margaret noted, her eyes sharp despite her illness.

Ava forced a smile. “Just work. Same old story.”

Margaret studied her. “You’re a terrible liar.”

“I got fired,” Ava admitted, her voice cracking.

Margaret’s thumb rubbed the back of Ava’s hand. “Good. That place was a den of vipers. Ava. Don’t let them break you.”

Ava looked down at their joined fingers. Her grandmother’s wedding ring hung loose now. “I’m gonna fix this. The bills. All of it. I promise.”

Margaret tugged her closer. “You already do more than enough. Come here.”

Ava leaned in. Margaret kissed her forehead soft, lingering. “You’re the best thing I ever did,” she whispered. “Don’t forget that.”

When visiting hours ended, Ava kissed her grandmother’s cheek. “I’ll be back tomorrow. With good news.”

Margaret smiled tired, but real, hope flicking in her eyes. “I’ll be here.”

Ava left the room. She took the elevator down, she stepped outside, her phone buzzed. Tessy.

Tessy: You alive?

Ava: Barely.

Tessy: Where are you?

Ava: Just left the hospital.

Tessy: Meet me at the diner on 9th. Now. No excuses.

Twenty minutes later Ava slid into the booth across from Tessy, she pushed a plate of fries toward her. “Eat. You look like death.”

Ava took one fry. Didn’t eat it, just held it. “I got fired,” she said.

Tessy listened, her eyes getting wider and wider, as Ava recounted everything…the client, the proposition, the slap, and finally, getting fired.

“You slapped Nico Jordan?!” Tessy’s whistle was low. “Girl, you’ve got balls.”

“Who else?” Ava muttered, picking at a loose thread on the tablecloth. “I didn’t think. I just did it. And then Hale fired me like I was nothing.”

Tessy reached across the table and grabbed Ava’s hand. “Listen to me. You did the right thing. Okay? You protected yourself. That man is trash, and Hale is trash for selling you out. I would have slapped him too. Twice.”

“Right now, being right doesn’t pay the bills, Tessy,” Ava whispered bitterly.

“Maybe… maybe you can find another job?” Tessy suggested weakly. “Another spa? Something smaller?”

“Every place knows Hale.” Ava said, shaking her head. “He’ll blacklist me. And even if he doesn’t, nothing pays like the Velvet Room did. Not enough, anyway. I have zero options left tess.”

They ate in silence, she walked Tessy to the door later, hugged her friend goodbye, and then went back to her tiny apartment.

She turned on the light, dropped her bag on the floor, and walked to the small table by the window. There, sitting on top of a pile of papers, was the latest statement from the hospital.

She picked it up. The numbers seemed to jump off the page, blurring together. It was a mountain she could never climb.

Her hand moved instinctively to her phone. She unlocked it, scrolling through her contacts. She didn’t know why. She was just looking for… something.

Then she stopped, stared at the number she’d saved from Hale’s computer earlier that night.

Nico Jordan.