Hot 4 (Multiple Love)

"We've written it all down for you," Karter says. "Everything you need to know to get around in this place."

"It looks like you've thought of everything," I smile.

Around me, the boys finish up their food, and the sun begins to sink lower in the sky. Birds fly overhead, seeking new places, just as I have today.

When we've cleared the table, the atmosphere changes. The huge bed upstairs beckons, and this time, there is going to be no fear in me about impending goodbyes. This time, when I let these men play with my body, I won't have to keep my heart enclosed in a safe little box. I'll try to let it out for them to cradle in their hands.

And I do.

And it's better than I ever dreamed it could be.

21

The sun shines brightly overhead as I make my way toward the office building where I'm meeting my new boss. In my hand, I clutch my offer letter and signed contract, as well as my résumé, just in case I need to go over anything. I couldn't be more excited.

Outside the door, I take a deep breath and square my shoulders, ready to make a good impression. They've agreed to hire me, but that doesn't mean I'm on the home straight. It'll be a few months before I pass my probationary period and settle into the role. Until then, I'm taking no chances.

Inside, a receptionist is on the phone, but she smiles and holds up a single finger to let me know I should wait. It's a warm welcome, and I exhale a little. First impressions can be make-or-break. If I'd taken notice of them at my last job, I'd have walked out on day one.

"Sorry about that," she says when the call has finished. "It's been crazy this morning. Are you here to see someone?"

"Yes. Liberty Jones."

"Ah, you must be Connie. Welcome to our crazy little world. I'm Tabitha." She reaches across the desk to offer her hand, and I shake it gladly.

"I'll just put in a call to her, and you can wait over there. She shouldn't take too long to come down."

I follow Tabitha's instructions and take a seat on a gray bucket chair in the corner of reception. The table in front of me is actually made up of four small sets of shelves, fixed together, and each shelf is lined with books. It's on wheels, so it's easy to turn, and I scan the titles in front of me, finding a whole section of inclusive children's books. I pull out one and thumb through a story about a differently-abled child making friends with a new boy at school. The illustrations are so precious and the story so refreshing.

Literature has always been so important to me, but I'm conscious that it is easy to find myself in stories. For differently-abled children, it's not so easy.

I wonder how the book has been received and plan on asking Liberty about it.

The elevator dings, and Liberty emerges, dressed from head to toe in bright purple. She's cropped her hair short since my first interview and bleached it almost white. With her nose piercing and black fingernails, she's an unusual-looking senior manager, but it's refreshing to see someone dressing to please themselves.

"Connie. There you are. I'm so excited to show you around."

"I'm excited too." I follow Liberty into the elevator, and we make our way up two floors. The doors open into an eccentric-looking office space with green and purple walls and a central area surrounded by short bookcases and filled with bean bags.

"I'll introduce you to everyone first," she says, “And then we can spend a couple of hours together going through your responsibilities. The guy you're replacing has left a comprehensive handover document, but I'm sure you're going to want to make this your own role."

"I am," I say. "But it will be helpful to have a starter."

Everyone I meet is friendly and smiley. I'm overdressed in my black slacks and striped blouse, but tomorrow I'll be more relaxed. Liberty takes time to go through all my new tasks and gives me a good outline of all the people I'll be in contact with. One of my first projects will be to secure funding for an under-resourced school so that the library can be improved. From the photos, most of the books look archaic or ruined. No wonder the reading levels are so poor. I ask about the demographics at the school and make notes on everything, already starting to think about the kinds of books that will inspire the kids there.

In my old job, I made lots of contacts within the publishing industry, including six-figure-earning authors and super-rich publishers. I wonder if there will be someone who'd be prepared to donate. Maybe I could arrange for plaques for all the sponsors? There is so much potential to do good in this role, and it fills me with fizzy bubbles of excitement.