No but maybe if you volunteer you can make some extra cash

After Hours Video back room, Millbrook, at 4:53 PM on Monday October 16th, 2023

Your voice barely rises above a whisper when you finally speak. "Okay. We can... we can film ourselves. I don't have money to hire anyone anyway." You swallow hard, then force yourself to continue, the words tumbling out quickly before you lose your nerve. "Maybe since I'm doing this, you could pay me a little extra? I'm really behind on rent and—"

"Pay you extra?" Jake's eyebrows shoot up, and something shifts in his expression. The anxiety that was there moments ago evaporates completely, replaced by a calculating look that makes your stomach clench. He takes a step closer, and suddenly the storage room feels impossibly small. "Daisy, let me make sure I understand this correctly. You want me to pay you to save your own job?"

Heat floods your cheeks. "I just thought... since we're both—"

"We're both fucked if we don't fix this," Jake cuts you off, his tone hardening. "The difference is, this is my dad's store. My inheritance. You've been here what, two weeks? And now you're trying to negotiate like you have leverage?" He laughs, but there's no humor in it. "Jesus Christ, Daisy. I'm already putting my ass on the line by not telling my dad you were supposed to help check that shipment too."

Your breath catches. "What? No, you said you were supposed to—"

"I said Dad told me to check it. But your job description includes inventory verification. You signed off on the paperwork without even looking." Jake pulls out his phone, scrolling briefly before turning the screen toward you. You can see a blurry photo of a clipboard with your signature at the bottom. "See? Right there. If I wanted to, I could tell Dad this whole clusterfuck was your fault. New employee, didn't follow protocol, cost us thousands in merchandise."

The blood drains from your face. You don't even remember signing that form, but there it is—your handwriting, clear as day.

Jake pockets his phone and crosses his arms, studying you with an intensity that makes your skin prickle. "But I'm not going to do that, Daisy. You know why? Because I actually like you. I think you're sweet, and honestly, you're fucking gorgeous." His eyes travel down your body slowly, lingering on your chest, your waist, your hips. "So here's how this is going to work. We make this content together. I direct, I shoot, I edit—and you perform. We split the work evenly, and we both keep our jobs. That's the deal."

He moves closer still, and now you're backed against the metal shelving with nowhere to go. The fluorescent lights cast shadows across his face, making his dark eyes harder to read.

"And Daisy?" His voice drops to barely above a murmur. "Don't try to negotiate with me again. You need this job way more than I need you. If you're difficult, I can find another girl who'll be grateful for the opportunity. There are dozens of broke college girls in this town who'd jump at the chance to make some content for cash. The only reason I'm offering to do this with you is because I want to. So either you're in—completely in, doing whatever needs to be done—or you're out, and I'll make sure you don't work anywhere else in Millbrook. My dad knows every business owner in this town."

He straightens up, giving you space again but maintaining that penetrating stare. "So what's it going to be? Are you going to trust me to handle this, or are we going to have a problem?"