Chapter 1: Working 9 to 5 (am)

Poppy was desperate. Tuition had risen in the last semester and the cost of books alone was going to break her. Not to mention she had rent due on her tiny little studio apartment.

Mrs. Crist was not only her landlady but also her boss. The rundown apartment was above Mrs. Christ’s bakery: Buns and More. It was definitely not worth what Poppy was paying for; probably wasn’t even safe to live in.  But it was far cheaper than any other apartment in town and, bonus, it was right above her work. Making the morning commute very, very short.

Mrs.Crist was not known for her creativity. Nor her baking skills. She was, however a shrewd business woman. And Poppy was an excellent baker. And desperate enough to not really read her contract.

Which was how Poppy ended up working almost full time for Mrs. Crist and still barely scraping by. So she did what most desperate college students did: took multiple low paying jobs.

But even between her mornings at the bakery, afternoons shelving books at the campus library, and evenings scrubbing toilets for the school, she still only had enough money to either pay for her tuition or her living expenses. And Mrs. Crist would not give her an extension on rent, the school would not extend her payment plan deadline… it was an either or situation: either lose her place for her last year in school or lose her home.

Poppy scrolled through LinkedIn and Indeed and any other job board she could find, hoping to did something that paid, preferably cash, and within the next ten days.  The campus social media usually had links to odd jobs here or there, like landscaping or something.

It was hopeless, she knew. But she had worked so hard to get into school. Being a former foster kid, she had no family, no support system beyond her friends. It was all on her. She would either make it or end up on the streets most likely dead. It was not a fun position to be in, and Poppy didn’t like thinking about how close she was to ending up homeless.

Just as she was about to give up and call it a night (she had to be up at 3:30 am for her work at the bakery), her phone rang. The name Melissa Jones flashed across her cracked screen. Melissa was her closest friend at school, sharing the same major so they had most of their classes together. Poppy wondered why she was calling. They never called; only texted to talked on campus. Calling was weird. Who even bothered to talk on the phone anymore?  Either something was really wrong, or really good.

“Hello?” Poppy answered, full of confusion and curiosity.

“Poppy! Oh my god! I’m so glad you answered.” Melissa spoke rapidly, Poppy could envision her running her hands through her long blonde hair as she spoke as she often did when she was excited or agitated, “I have got the best idea!”

“Um, if this is about the group project, we already turned that in…”  Poppy tried her best not to roll her eyes.  Melissa was a good friend, but was extremely scatter brained; often, Poppy had to remind her about projects.  Lately, she found it easier just to do the work herself, though she knew that wasn’t really helping anyone.  Forgetful or not, Melissa was always on the lookout for Poppy; though she didn’t have much extra cash either, she was always finding a way to get them a free lunch here or there, on the lookout for jobs or other opportunities to earn some extra cash. Much like Poppy, she lived paycheck to paycheck, and on whatever generosity she could muster out of her cold, distant family.

“No, silly! I know the project is over. My idea is about your job situation!” Melissa sounded positively giddy. Poppy was a little offended. Why was Melissa so happy about her financial problems?

“My what?” Poppy asked, confused. Why couldn’t she have just texted like she usually did? Then Poppy didn’t have to bother to try and decipher all the small talk that was happening right then.

“You, needing a quick job that pays a lot upfront?” Melissa sounded like she thought Poppy was loosing her marbles.  Maybe she was.

“I already told you, I’m not stripping. I’m too uncoordinated for that.” Poppy sighed. Melissa meant well, but often had the most outlandish ideas. The stripper idea had been posed, more than once. Poppy wasn’t sure how she felt about it. On the one had, her body her choice, on the other, it seemed like something she would be bad at, for many reasons. The primary one being she didn’t like to undress in front of anyone, let alone strange men. She also didn’t want to let Melissa know about the one time she had auditioned for a stripper role.  It had been a humiliating process that involved her and the pole falling off the stage, into the front row of (thankfully empty) tables, breaking those, and the heel of her shoe.  She was not admitting that to anyone, ever.

“Well, duh. You are singularly uncoordinated.” She could practically hear Melissa roll her eyes over the phone, her tone filled with exasperation, “I mean a job with Jack’s catering company! They have a huge gig on Friday and need extra waitstaff. Like now!  He’s hiring immediately!”

Poppy was silent. Jack’s company was an up and coming catering business; he mostly hired college students who were majoring in hospitality, though. Poppy was majoring in marketing and thus hadn’t thought she’d be qualified for one of his gigs so she had never looked into it further.

“What do I need to do?” Poppy knew Jack paid his employees a fair wage. Plus he let them take home tips. Which was more than Mrs. Crist had ever done. Maybe this was worth looking into?

“Ok, just send your resume and a head shot to the link I texted you.  According to the job board, it takes about 24 hours for someone to respond.” Melissa was practically vibrating through the phone with excitement.

“A head shot? Why does he need that?” Poppy hadn’t applied for many jobs in the past but knew that head shots were not standard in the application process. Cover letters, yes. Head shots, no. Her spidey senses started tingling.  Something wasn’t adding up with this.

“Because this is a big event. It’s for Malcom’s Murray’s 30th birthday!  You know, the international business sensation!  The one who took over after his parents died in that skiing accident or plane crash or whatever like years ago.  Youngest CEO and all that? Everyone who is anyone is going to be there. It’s going to be glamorous. Which means the staff has to be glamorous, too.”

“I don’t know about that.” Poppy tugged on her long red braid. She wasn’t what people usually termed attractive. She wasn’t ugly, per se, but not head turning, stunningly beautiful either. Just… average. Really the only amazing thing about her was her long red, wavy hair and bright blue eyes. It was an unusual combination and her hair length often drew comments. One little girl had followed her around a grocery store one day asking her if she was Rapunzel. It had been kind of cute, until the kid had tried to climb her braid.  Then it just turned painful.

“Come on!” Melissa wheedled, “the pay is great! It’s at least $1,000 for the night plus tips! And he pays in cash!”

“A thousand dollars!?!?” Poppy almost screamed into the phone, “Wait… Why does it pay so much?”

“I dunno. It’s a fancy party and it’s going to last all night.” Melissa obviously hadn’t asked a lot of questions about the job before calling Poppy. But like Poppy, Melissa was a college student, tight on money.  Despite her hesitation, the pay was too good to pass up.  “Listen, I’m going to do it. It’s good pay. And you need the cash, so why not apply? Please? I need my bestie there for moral support when I try to mingle with the upper echelons of society. I’m gonna find me a rich sugar daddy to fund my ever increasingly expensive lifestyle.  Or at least be the back up plan in case I fail out of college…”

Poppy laughed. Melissa was right. What could it hurt to apply? Even if they said no, it’s not like her predicament would change. But if she got the job… she would be set for the semester at least.

“You know what, sure.” Poppy sighed, but smiled, “I’ll send you my stuff. Do you think a selfie is ok?”

“Oh, that profile pic you have on I***a would be best.” Melissa squealed. “I’m so excited!! We are gonna rock this party! Maybe we can both find sugar daddies.  Some yummy silver foxes to pay our way through the rest of school? Maybe they’ll take us on tropical vacations! I’m so excited!! See ya tomorrow, pookie! Love ya!”

“Love ya too.” Poppy laughed, ending the call. Sugar daddies. Right. Despite being somewhat laissez faire with her life, Melissa was as driven as Poppy to succeed.  While she had a family, they weren’t really close and Melissa definitely did not want to move back home after college if she could help it.  Like Poppy, Melissa had learned that depending on someone else would often leave you high and dry.

Poppy smiled as she clicked the link Melissa had sent her and uploaded her profile pic and resume. This crazy idea just might work.  And even if it didn’t, what was the harm?  She would be no worse off for at least trying.  For a thousand dollars and potential tips, Poppy was willing to at least give it a shot. She hit send and then closed her old laptop with soft click.  This might actually be the turning point she needed.