Reluctantly

"I need to provide for my family," you tell yourself as you take a deep breath and head for your car.

"Maybe she'll be attractive," you think, trying to stay positive as you drive your old Toyota Corolla up to what looks to be an incredibly fancy hotel. You're stunned as you park and walk inside to the front desk, dressed in the nicest button-down shirt and jeans that you own.

You feel a lump in your throat as the check-in woman makes eye contact with you. Sensing your nervousness, she says, "You must be here for Monica."

"Yes," you say softly.

"Room 2383," she says, and points you to the elevators in the corner.

You ride the elevator up, and find the room at the end of the hallway on the top floor. A note on the door reads "Come in. Instructions are on the first table on the right."