If Only You Could Love Me

Boston, Massachusetts. Two months later.

The Boston air was crisp as I wrapped my coat tighter around myself. About two months ago, days after I drove Jen to the Zürich airport to see her get on a flight back to the United States, I made a decision. On a whim I decided to replace boring old Biel-Bienne with supposedly much more exciting Boston, Massachusetts. My mom had rolled her eyes and said it was only a matter of time. She'd seen it coming the day I brought Jen home for dinner the first time. At least that's what my mom said. Then again the woman also claimed to be sad to see me go, before almost doing more of the packing than I had done myself.

It almost made me think that she was happy to get rid of me. Lovingly so, perhaps. I knew she'd wanted me to see the world, and get to know my father better. I wasn't so sure how the latter would go, seeing as despite being in Boston for a little less than two months now, I still hadn't met with him in person.

He'd called me a few times though, and emailed me several. I'd first emailed him after the decision to move had been made, hoping he could lend a hand in finding an apartment. My father is an American business entrepreneur, in his own words. To be honest, I'd never given it much thought what he actually did. I knew he had a degree in Business of some sort from Harvard, but because we'd never had much contact I wasn't sure what he did with that degree. When I lived with him for a while during the time I went to school in Massachusetts, he worked with import and export... or something.

In an email he'd told me he'd set me up with an apartment in a downtown area called Beacon Hill. It wasn't a big apartment, but it was perfect for me, and on the top floor of the building which meant a great view. From the tiny balcony I could see the hospital, and parts of the TD Garden if I looked one way, and the Boston Common park if I looked the other way. The view was even better if you went up on the roof deck.

I'd gotten settled in pretty quickly, but I was still lacking something fairly vital... a job. My dad had agreed to pay for rent and help me out in the beginning, but as soon as I started earning my own money, I was on my own.

That's why he'd called me earlier that same week, he had a job for me.

"My friend from college owns a couple of clubs and bars in the Boston and New York area, and he's looking for staff for one that's only a few blocks from your apartment. I thought you might be interested, so I called him and got you an interview for you on Thursday at five", He told me over the phone, "Sound good?"

"Thanks, dad", I wasn't exactly sure how I'd fit in working at a night club, but if my father was nice enough to get me an interview, I might as well go, "I'll tell you how it goes."

The phone call was how I ended up slipping inside the club that was obviously deserted at five in the afternoon on a Thursday. I was greeted by Johnny, apparently my father's friend from college.

"You must be Andy", He said with a smile as he escorted me across a huge empty space, which I suppose was a dance floor at night, "Your dad has told me a lot about you."

"I hope only good things", I joked.

As we crossed the vast space towards his office I took in the scenery. Admittedly, I'd googled the place beforehand, so I knew a little about it. The club was called Sea, and quite obviously had an under the sea sort of theme. Granted it wasn't very impressive in the day, but I imagined it was pretty cool at night. There was one main floor which we were crossing at that very moment, but also a basement floor and a roof top. In between was another floor with VIP booths of some sort that I could spot. It was like a balcony that went all the way around with nooks in the walls that I supposed were the VIP booths.

There was a lot of blue colors. Everywhere.

"So, your dad tells me that you were raised by your mother in Switzerland", Johnny started going through some papers after we sat down in his office. It was small but not crowded.

"Yes, but I went to prep school here in Massachusetts."

"Oh really, what school did you attend?"

"I went to the Phillips Exeter Academy in Andover", I explained and couldn't help but add, "Sir."

"That's a good school", He smiled.

I nodded. It was one of the best. Had my father chosen I would have gone on from Phillips Exeter to another Ivy League school for college. Obviously he'd had his sights set on his own Alma mater, Harvard. He'd been pretty disappointed when I instead decided that I was going to go back to Biel-Bienne.

When he asked me if I'd also gone to college in the United States I therefor shook my head.

"I studied business economy in Zürich for about a year and a half before deciding that it wasn't really for me", I shrugged, "After that I traveled a bit, before attaining a job at the tourist office in Biel-Bienne, and I worked there until I decided to move to Boston."

The conversation continued like that for a good thirty minutes, while Johnny asked me all sorts of questions. He seemed impressed that I was an educated bartender, I guess that bartender course in Ibiza finally had paid off. The fact that I had literally never worked in a club or a bar didn't seem to bother him much.

"Okay, so here's what we're going to do", He finally said, "I like you, Andy. You're nice, polite, and pretty. Plus you're over twenty-one which is obviously good, since I can't hire anyone that's under twenty-one. I'm going to give you a shot at the hostess position, even though I really could use someone with more experience. I owe your dad to at least give you a chance. Basically what the position entails is that you take care of our VIP guests. It might sound simple, but to be honest some of them can be complete and utter assholes, excuse my French, so to speak."

Johnny explained a bit more about the job, before he went to get some papers for me to sign after I had accepted the so called try out at the job. If I could handle it, he said, he'd hire me officially.

"Tomorrow night will be your first trial", He said as he started writing down some stuff on a piece of paper for me, "You'll work from let's say, ten to two. I'll call Maisie, she's our head hostess, and set up a time tomorrow around noon for you to get fixed up with work clothes. Maisie will also be your mentor of sorts, she'll help you out with getting started. Any questions?"

I shook my head. I was still trying to wrap my head around that I had a job now. Sort of anyway. And as a club hostess of all things. Oh well, it would help paying the bills.


The next day I met the elusive Maisie at an American Apparel store just a few blocks away from the park not far from my apartment. It took me about twenty-five minutes to walk there from my apartment. She was a few inches shorter than me who's 5'6''. Maybe around 5'4''. She had blonde hair, blue eyes, and all in all looked almost creepily much like the girl next door.

She was also almost excruciatingly nice, and from Nashville. I instantly liked her.

"So you speak fluent French?", She asked me as I tried on clothes in the dressing rooms, and she sat outside on a bench while patiently waiting for me.

"Yeah", I responded as I shimmied into a pair of spandex shorts. Yes, spandex shorts, "My mom is French, and raised me speaking it. Plus I went to a French school."

"That's so cool", Maisie sighed with envy and then clapped her hands as I opened the dressing room door and stepped out, "I love it!"

Having never worked in a night club before I had no clue what a club hostess was supposed to look like. But if you went by what Sea considered appropriate work attire, spandex shorts was it. I suddenly felt very happy that I had practiced yoga since I was sixteen and ran almost daily, making me pretty lean in build. An hour and a very expensive charge on my father's credit later she took me to lunch at a nearby café before calling it a day.

"I'll see you tonight", She gave me a hug as we were about to part ways, "Remember what I told you about the outfit tonight. If all goes well I'll give you sheets every week for what we wear each night. Keep the make up classy, and the hair big. As they say where I'm from, the higher the hair, the closer you are to Jesus."

I almost lost it right there and then. I guess I shouldn't have expected anything less from a girl who was from Tennessee. On my way back to my apartment I called Jen, who couldn't stop laughing at the Jesus comment and how I was going to work in booty shorts. I'd only seen her a few times since moving to Boston. She was usually very busy with school, but she promised to come see me at work one night if I performed well.

So then I went home and started getting ready for my first night on the job. Typically, it would turn out to be a very interesting night.