Hesitantly, but yes... [Cypher’s Tales]

“Okay, sure. 8pm Friday is a great time for me.” I said with a smile.

“Wonderful!” Harvey beamed as he shook my hand vigorously. “But… I think you should take the rest of the week off from your other jobs. I think it would be good for you to see the benefits of this switch. I also think it might give you a better chance of saying yes to continuing working for my club after you see how much more time you have,” he said with a grin, laughing healthily.

I chuckled, smiled and said, “I’ll think about it.”

Harvey had a look in his eye while watching me that made me feel... nervous. He eventually walked me back to the front door and said his farewells before I found myself walking back home with a strange sense of excitement. This was either a huge waste of my time or something that would get me out of this terrible side gig I was doing nightly.

I planned to do as he said, and that night, despite the notifications on my phone for good deals during peak hours. I stayed home and got work done on an assignment that was due at the end of the month.

In fact, I stayed home every night after uni that week. By Thursday I was stressed out beyond belief that I had made a mistake and would suffer for the next few weeks because of it. Despite my anxiety, I had indeed had much more time to work on my studies and I’m happy to say: I found the time to hang out with my friends last night, on a weeknight! It was amazing.

I told my friend Max about Harvey at the bar last night. Max said that Harvey sounded like a creep and that it sounded suspiciously like I was going to end up being **** to give happy endings to fat old perverts. We had both laughed about it, but I had to say that the thought _had _occurred to me previously. Harvey’s comments about my ‘soft hands’ and when he had said that ‘his friends would pay handsomely for a skilled pair of hands’ had certainly concerned me, but Harvey was married, to a woman no less. The idea of it being a trial did certainly make this much easier. If Harvey was a creep, I would just never go back.

On Thursday night, I got a message from Harvey—we had exchanged numbers, and he had given me his golf club's business card—confirming that I was available at the previously discussed time. I told him that I was, and he simply said that he looked forward to me seeing the club. It was all very professional and normal. I, of course, still had a knot in my stomach from stress. But that was normal with starting any new job. I had even skipped the interview process which I would argue is even more stressful.

I resigned myself to being positive about the appointment. My week had been far less stressful after all, and time with Max was just an added bonus. Max is a good friend of mine. He is tall, sporty and most definitely gay. And I am quite convinced that he has a thing for me—I’m definitely straight—despite all that, we get along very well. His words stuck with me and even though I was trying to be positive, I couldn’t help but worry about tomorrow night. But to be honest, Max made comments—albeit, intended to be jokes—about my small figure and feminine qualities all the time and I never once assumed _he _was a pervert. What was I so worried about?

On Friday, I had no time to stress as I was finishing off a complicated essay at uni and before I knew it, the day was gone. I prepared mentally for tonight and got ready. My mother and father had been so ecstatic that I was offered a job by Harvey and they both wished me luck as I left that night towards the address written on the club card.

I knew I was looking for a golf course but when I ended up at the front of a large iron gate that led down a manicured garden drive to what looked like an enormous mansion or country club, I suddenly thought my shitty old Toyota Corolla looked quite out of place.

A man that I hadn't seen before stepped out from a booth at the side of the gate and stared at me suspiciously as I rolled up slowly.

“Can I help you Ma’am,” said the man as I rolled down my window.

Max’s teasing flooded back to me, reminding me that I can never escape that initial assumption that I am a girl.

“Sir… actually. And is this the Great Pine Golf Club?” I asked.

The man looked suspiciously into my car and then back at me.

“It is… do you have business here?” he asked skeptically.

“I’m here to see Harvey Finch, my name is Dean” I said feeling absolutely out of place.

“Ohh…” the man said, suddenly changing his attitude. “Hold on for me for just one moment please.”

The man walked back to the booth and rummaged around inside for a minute before coming back.

“I think this is you,” The man handed me a card attached to a lanyard and said, “You’ll need this to get in next time. Drive through when the gate is opened and if you pull around to the left, staff parking is around the side.”

‘Staff?’ That is incredibly… formal. I looked at the badge. 'Dean Mathews - Guest' was written on the front, signed with a signature that I can't read and don’t recognise.

The gate opened and I drove around. The winding garden roads were well lit, and it was easy to find where I was going. This place is incredible. ‘Harvey is the president of a club that golfs here?’ I wondered in amazement. How rich is he and why does he live just down the road from my family? Surely, he doesn’t own this place, right?

The large building on the grounds was enormous, and I am almost late by the time I find the entrance into the club. A middle-aged woman found me looking quite lost and took me to the reception where a crotchety old lady looked very unhappy that I was disturbing her peaceful nightly computer work—solitaire, more like.

“Wait there,” she said, pointing a long, bright red, fingernail at a chair.

I felt so nervous that I thought I might be sick when she seemed to be arguing with someone on the phone about my arrival.

Shortly after, the middle-aged woman told me to follow her and led me down some hallways until we got to a room. She opened the door and kindly said, “Here you are, I believe this room was set up for you. Mr Finch will be along shortly,” and she ushered me inside before leaving me alone in the room.

I breathed out the absolute stress I’d been dealing with and looked around the room. A large massage table sat in the center of the room. Shelves stocked with linens, oils, fragrances and more was rather alarming. I guess this job really was for a masseuse… Ohh well, I only agreed to a trial, right? I can leave here tonight and never come back.

Overwhelmed and anxious I paced around the room until there was a knock at the door. I stood there feeling wholly out of place and not knowing what to do. When the knock came again, I instinctively said, “Come in.”

The door opened and Harvey walked in wearing a robe with the club logo embroidered on the front.

“Ohh good, I thought you might not have arrived yet.” Harvey said, walking confidently up to me and shaking my hand.

“Ohh, I… it doesn't matter,” I said laughing nervously.

“Well, how do you like the club?” Harvey asked, smiling.

“It’s… ahh… overwhelming,” I said nervously.

“It is a little, but you should see this place during the day some time. It gets rather busy. The top golf club in the state, did you know?” he said proudly. “Between you and me, the best in the country,” he winked and jabbed me in the side.

“Do you own the club?” I asked nervously, not knowing what else to do but keep this conversation going.

Harvey laughed healthily and said, “I wish. No, I manage the club but the honour of owning it goes to Richard Miles. He’s a close friend of mine though and he is very interested in meeting you,” Harvey said matter-of-factly.

“Ohh,” I was so confused at this whole arrangement and thought I should either: make a very good impression, or a very bad one and never be invited back.

“How about that lower back then, you can tell me about this place while I see what I’m dealing with,” I said confidently, trying to sound professional and personable.

Harvey breathed out, smiling as if he was very happy to hear that and dropped his robe. I instinctively went to avert my gaze but thank god he at least had underpants on under there. I waited for him to get comfortable on the table and asked a few precursory questions about the location of his pain and what it felt like. He seemed to be quite inconsistent about this ‘pain’ of his and I thought maybe he was just looking for a good massage.

“Well, I’m no professional, but let’s see what we can do?” I said rubbing some oil into his lower back.

“No professional... yet” Havey said from the table. “You will be in no time,” he added confidently.

I chuckled and began to press into his back. Harvey, it turned out, was quite the complainer when it came to pressure. He was also ticklish which turned out to be a nightmare and he would complain that I was being too rough with him and each time he did I would put less and less pressure on him until I was basically just rubbing his back, gently applying pressure only in a few places. This would do nothing for him but contented sighs interrupting his stories about this club and all of his important friends, told me that this was exactly what he wanted, so I settled for at least making it a good experience for him. It was also incredibly easy, albeit a little strange.

Harvey loved to talk. He was a proud man, and he loved this club like it was his own child. He talked and talked about random dramas that had happened throughout the year and important visitors the club has seen in the past month. I almost thought he was falling asleep at one point when his soft coos told me that he was just enjoying whatever this massage was doing for him. It actually felt quite good to elicit such a response in someone. It made me feel like I knew what I was doing, despite knowing that he probably needed targeted deep tissue massaging for any real grief that he may or may not have.

“I think I might have to make you an offer you can’t refuse, just so you’ll come back,” Harvey chuckled, sounding supremely relaxed.

I laughed, feeling much better about this whole thing by now. “I’ll admit, it was a little intimidating when I first got here. I’m not exactly a professional… but I think this beats running around back and forth to fast food stores all night… If you’re satisfied and want me that is, I’ll likely come back,” I said happily, albeit a little tired at this point.

“Not much of a businessman are you” he chuckled and made to get off the table. “I suppose I should get back or Jennifer will think the worst of me,” he said in a sarcastic sigh.

I helped him up, he seemed a little lightheaded and woozy but relaxed, which meant I did a good job, I guess.

“I’ve never been that business minded, and talking about money makes me feel weird.” I chuckled nervously.

Harvey smiled. “I hope you decide to come back. If you did, I have three other men that are all begging me to hire someone. I told them that you were doing a trial and you would let me know after. They are all rather excited, I must say. So you would have work like this, 2-4 nights a week. Anyway, leave your details with the devil woman at the front and you can let me know when your payment comes in whether you think it is worth your time or not,” he chuckled and gave me a wink before putting on his robe and stepping out the door. “I’ll see you next week,” he said confidently before leaving.

I gave my details to the old woman at the front and drove home feeling more excited than I had in a long time. The idea that he was confident that I would be back meant that he was likely going to more than make up for my other job. Of course, I worried that I was getting excited for nothing and would wind up disappointed.