The Rise of Rachel Price T-Girl Pt. 08

The contest

Rachel emerged from the rest-rooms to rejoin everyone in a private section of the restaurant. The chairs had very high backs, making the place look like the meeting of a high council. She tried to walk in the most "slinky" way possible as she approached the table. There was a gap near the top, next to Levant. This time, one of the Asian girls was on the right.

When Charlie had said "boss level," Rachel realized this was wrong. This was a sudden death level. One wrong move and you died; you generally slid through the level. Experience had taught Rachel that the best thing to do was not overthink it. This is what she had done with Hunter. Just commit to the first thing in her head. Game plan in mind, Rachel approached the table. She was never going to meet these people again. This was a game, like Red Dead Redemption. She just had to punch it until they hit the cut scene.

Rachel smiled as she approached the table. The room had many mirrors, and seeing herself, she could see how curvy her hips were.'I'm a hot bitch and I'm going to win this' she told herself as she approached her empty chair.

"Mr. Levant, you're such a brave man," the Asian girl called Mimi, sitting next to Levant, said. She hadn't spoken much, but her accent definitely wasn't American.

Levant laughed. "Yes, I am one of the bravest people I know. You're right."

A man entered, just as Rachel and Charlie sat down,. He was in his forties or fifties with a sturdy build and a commanding presence. He had a strong jawline and a sharp nose, framed by a full head of salt and pepper hair. His piercing blue eyes seemed to look right through you, and his deep, gravelly voice commanded attention whenever he spoke. He wore a tailored black suit and a white clerical collar, which added to his air of authority.

Rachel looked over at Charlie and mouthed, "What the fuck?"He's got judges? No one said anything about judges!"

Charlie leaned over and whispered,"The Reverend Fitts is an evangelical TV preacher who runs a huge church in the Midwest. He's a private investor and not on the game plan. He pops in all the time. Forget about it."

Rachel leaned back, seething with anger. The cheerleader appeared undaunted, while the others, including the lawyer's girl, looked equally shocked and unnerved. Levant started getting friendly with the Reverend, who approached.

"Reverend, good to see you. Please have a seat. Charlie, give the Reverend your seat. There aren't enough seats. Mitchell?"

One of the men chatting looked up.

"Charlie is sitting there now" Levant said pointing to Mitchell's seat.

Everyone looked at Mitchell. You could see him wondering if he should make a fuss or not. Angrily but silently, Mitchell grabbed his jacket and stormed off. Charlie sat down where Mitchell sat. Rachel felt suddenly isolated.

"He's a good man," Levant said behind his back, "a nice man, but not like leader material".

Rachel had Levant on one side and the Reverend on the other. She was under crossfire. The Reverend glanced down at Rachel's chest.

"So what are you all doing here, child?" the Reverend asked.

"Mr Levant is a big believer in women's rights, and breaking the glass ceiling" Rachel began sipping more Champagne, "he's running a contest to fast track a group of interns to senior positions."

Levant turned from Mimi and nodded. "Yes, I am one of the biggest supporters of women's rights. Many have said I am the biggest."

"The real question is, what are you doing here?" Rachel said to the Reverend.

"Well, a congregation like mine generates a number of assets. We like to invest wisely. We like to invest in people we know, we trust. Steadfast people with moral rectitude and a way with money. We might not get the best profits, but we want to do God's work," the Reverend said.

Rachel twitched. Levant was running a huge risk. If Fitts found out about any of them, Levant would lose face, quickly followed by a backlash of money. It took a huge amount of confidence to do this. Levant had balls that couldn't be denied.

Just then, a man walked into the room who Rachel didn't need any introduction to. It was California's Governor, Jack Predalski. Rachel could feel the blood rush out of her face as he entered. She felt like she was about to be exposed in public, some weird political stunt. Then her brain managed to ask herself, 'Why would the Governor do this?'

"Douglas!"The Governor said.

"Governor," Levant replied, holding out his hand. Rachel noticed he would stand up, shake their hand, then grasp it again and pull them close into his space. Levant was a huge bear of a man, the Governor a tanned lamppost by comparison. He would overwhelm them with his presence.

"I heard you were in town but I can't stay for long," the Governor said, smiling. "Who are these young ladies?"

"Interns," Levant said confidently. "It's part of a contest to fast-track a group of interns to senior positions. I'm a big believer in women's rights."

Rachel was struck by how he was able to take her lie and just use it as his own.

At this point, a waiter was already bringing a chair over to the table for him. Rachel looked over, but Charlie was standing in the corner issuing orders to some of the staff. The Governor sat between the cheerleader and the lawyer's contestant. The waiters then came in with a light starter, serving it to everyone. Rachel's large round glass was filled with red wine.

Levant turned to Rachel and asked, "You met Charlie in a video game shop. What were you doing?"

Rachel replied, "Oh, I like playing games. Do you like playing games, Mr. Levant?" Although it felt slightly lame, it earned Charlie's nod of approval as flirt talk.

Rachel noticed that Levant was taller than her, but noticed that while his chair was the same style as hers, it was a little higher.

"Please call me Douglas." Levant said." I do. I played Assassin's Creed. Great game, full of detail. So realistic. One of my companies made it. I invest in many high-tech companies,"

It might have been the wine, but Rachel relaxed. "Oh, I loved that game. In fact, I loved the whole series. Did you get far? Is there something you prefer to do when you're playing? Have you ever played in dual mode?"

Charlie looked over and gave a subtle thumbs-up to the primitive flirting.

'With the eagle and stuff, I've never played in dual mode,' Levant said as he looked up to the Revenant."

Talking of tech projects," Levant turned to the Reverend, "I was wondering if you had made a decision about investing in Project Zeitgeist?"

At this, the Reverend began to look uncomfortable. "I'm sure these young ladies don't want to be bored by this dry stuff. Not at a social dinner."

Rachel shrugged. "Well, technically, this is a work dinner." At this point, she felt a hand reaching out and touching her thigh. Looking over, she saw that it was the Reverend, who was now looking away. Rachel's heart began to race. If he moved his hand a few inches further up, he might discover more than he bargained for. Looking over to Charlie, Rachel tried to use her eyes to indicate the Reverend. Rachel wasn't sure if this was part of the test or not.

Not sure what to do, Rachel placed her hand on the Reverend's thigh and squeezed until he removed his hand. "So, Miss Rachel, do you want to succeed in your job?" the Reverend said.

Rachel tilted her head. "I really do, but there are different kinds of jobs." She turned to Levant. "What kind of jobs do you like best, Douglas?"

"Jobs?" Levant said as he ate his starter.

"In-game jobs. Do you ever do those?" Rachel asked. Charlie had walked closer.

"I should come around and show you how to do these jobs sometime," Rachel said. "They can be great fun."

At this, Levant announced that everyone should get up and change places. The Reverend said he had to leave. The cheerleader got the hot seat, sitting between the governor and Levant. As they moved, a third man arrived. Rachel was now next to Charlie on one side and the new young man on the other.

"Hi, I'm Rachel. What do you do?" Rachel said to the young man next to her.

"I'm in data analytics," the unnamed man said. He was young, in his thirties. He had a German accent but spoke exquisitely well. He wore thin wire glasses on his slim face, with slightly long European hair that framed his chiseled features. He clearly took pride in his appearance and was impeccably dressed. He favored tailored suits in classic shades of navy, paired with a polo-neck jumper and polished dress shoes. His attire exuded a sense of professionalism and refinement. Rachel noticed the man bit his lip slightly and then drummed his fingers in frustration.

There was a slight pause while Rachel wondered if talking to the data analytics executive was part of the test

Charlie came over and whispered to Rachel. "Don't worry about these business people turning up. Douglas runs around a lot, and when word gets out that he's having dinner in public, you get a lot of people stopping by hoping to get a word or two."

Rachel turned to the data analytics guy. As she did, waiters and waitresses came carrying trays with the next course.

"So, do you do security and stuff?" Rachel enquired. She knew what data analytics was; Denver had played Watch Dogs.

"Yeah," the man said, waiting for Levant to stop talking to the Governor.

"So secure that you don't even tell people your name without the right level of clearance?" Rachel said, starting on dinner.

Charlie tapped Rachel's side, trying to turn down the sass. Rachel had said this slightly too loudly. Levant looked up at this.

"Something like that. Yes," the man said, picking up his knife and fork.

"It must be interesting reading Twitter and Facebook all day," Rachel said.

The man looked over at her. "You can learn a lot. I noticed you haven't looked at your phone yet." His grey eyes swept around the other contestants.

"Yeah, you're right," Rachel said. "Truth is, I'm part-time Amish."

At this, Charlie gave up prodding and stared at Rachel. Levant, on the other hand, laughed over the table.

"How is everything going?" Levant asked.

"You don't seem to be able to control your girls," Mr. Data Analytics said.

Rachel jumped in again. "Newsflash: the medieval period is declared finally at an end in the San Francisco area. Women are no longer men's chattels. With all due respect, Mr. Levant doesn't control me, but I would be willing to pay to watch him try."

There were a large number of smirks around the table at this outburst.

Mr. Data Analytics turned to Levant. "You said you would give us a yes or no answer by Tuesday last week. I have people waiting."

As Levant spoke, a sly smile stretched across his lips, revealing a row of perfectly straight teeth. His words seemed to hang in the air for a moment, like a promise that could either be fulfilled or broken at any moment.

"It's with the lawyers," Levant said, his voice smooth and confident. "They will get back to you."

Charlie, who had been sitting silently across from Rachel, shot her a quick, stern look. She mouthed the words, "shut the f**k up," her lips barely moving as she spoke.

Rachel, who had been feeling triumphant after successfully completing her mission, was taken aback by Charlie's sudden outburst. She looked down at her plate, unsure of how to react.

Just then, Levant called for another round of musical chairs. Rachel found herself on the right-hand side of the table, with the cheerleader on her left. She felt a sense of renewed energy wash over her, as if she had been given a second chance. The data analytics expert, the minister, and the governor all left, leaving Levant looking more relaxed and at ease.

"I think it would be good to go to a club," Levant said loudly to everyone, his eyes scanning the table. The cheerleader looked excited at the suggestion, but Rachel couldn't help but feel hesitant. Going to a club meant leaving the safety of the hotel and the possibility of Denver being spotted seemed too risky.

"Err, well, no one said anything about going to a club," Rachel said, her voice tinged with nervousness. She looked over at Charlie, who seemed surprised by the suggestion.

The cheerleader, sensing Rachel's uncertainty, offered a kind gesture. "You can stay behind if you want," she said, standing up from her seat. There was a sincerity in her voice that almost made the offer feel genuine.

But Rachel couldn't shake the feeling of danger that lingered in the back of her mind. "Sudden death level: commit or die," she remembered, a phrase that had been drilled into her head during many levels of many games.

With a shrug, she tried to play it cool. "No, I'm good. Let's go."

*****************

Later, Rachel stood at the end of the line for the elevator, waiting at the end of the group of people to go down to the garage level. As she stepped into the elevator, Charlie and Beth joined her, the latter quickly rummaging through her purse for something.

"What are you doing?" Rachel asked.

"Just reapplying some gloss," Beth replied, swiping a brush over Rachel's lips. Charlie, meanwhile, was deep in thought, her brow furrowed as she strategized.

"I was worried you were going to bottle out." Charlie said. The lawyer's girl hand gone along finally. The cheerleader and the asian girls were keen.

"If I find this is some kind of trick I'm going to kill someone." Rachel threatened. "I've never been this scared before."

"You're doing fine." Charlie said. "Keep it all up. Keep flirting. if you can, stab the cheerleader."

"Why am I worried that you're serious about the stabbing," Rachel said stepping out of the elevator into the car park.

The doors of the elevator closed with a loud thud behind her, trapping her in the small, confined space. The dimly lit space was filled with the sound of chatter and the smell of gasoline, emanating from the rows of limousines that waited to take people to Levant's choice of clubs. For a brief moment, Rachel panicked, thinking that the elevator had somehow malfunctioned and that she was trapped. But then she spotted the limousine at the other end of the parking garage and let out a sigh of relief.

She then made her way across the dimly lit space, a voice called out to Rachel from the shadows.

"Rachel," the voice said, causing her to jump.

She squinted into the darkness, trying to make out the figure that stood in the shadows.

"Shit," she cursed under her breath, as she realized that it was Hunter. His back was pressed against a pillar, and she could see a bruise on his chin.

"Mr. Hunter," Rachel said, concern etched in her voice. "Are you OK? Do you need an ambulance?"

But Hunter didn't seem to hear her, his eyes fixed on something in the distance. "We haven't got much time before your friends miss you," he said, his voice urgent.

Rachel looked around, trying to make sense of the situation. "How did you know I would come this way?" she asked.

Hunter grinned, his teeth white against the darkness. "You didn't come in through the main entrance, so I knew you must have arrived by car. But that doesn't matter. What does matter is that you're in danger."

"Me?" Rachel said. "No."

"Look, I worked in vice for five years before moving to homicide. I know when a girl is being trafficked."

Rachel smiled. "Me?"

"Rachel Price doesn't exist. No Rachel Price has entered the country on an English or American passport recently. Homeland security is good with this kind of thing. There aren't many Prices in US bases in the UK either, and none with living daughters. Then a Rachel Price appears on the driving license database like magic, but the US doesn't transfer an English driving license. No Price has taken a test either. If you had arrived, you could have driven on your English licence for three months, so why bother? Also, two of the girls you were eating with flew in from Thailand a few days ago. Then you all had dinner with some important people in the city. Coincidence? I don't think so."

Rachel felt frozen, like a deer in the headlights. She couldn't breathe. Would he figure her out?

"I'm here because I want to help you, Rachel," Hunter said. "But you have to help me."

Rachel smiled. "Yeah, that's really good, Mr. Hunter."

"Nathan," Hunter said.

"That's really good, Detective Hunter. You even had me going for a second. Believe me, you have it all wrong. I'm here tonight and gone tomorrow. You'll never see me again," Rachel said, walking towards him.

"That's what I'm afraid of," Hunter said, his voice laced with concern as he moved closer to Rachel. She could see the genuine worry etched in his eyes. "If I'm wrong, meet me to tell me the truth."

Rachel hesitated for a moment, then began to walk away, her mind racing with thoughts.

"It's complicated," she called over her shoulder. "Now excuse me, Detective."

Hunter stepped out of the shadows and held out a card. "This has my details on it. Call me any time. I can help you," he said, his voice sincere.

"I'm not going to phone." Rachel said "Don't try to save my soul Nathan and my real kiss would be your last."

Rachel continued walking, her high stiletto heels clicking against the hard concrete floor of the parking garage. "I appreciate your dedication, Nathan, but in my case it's misplaced. This girl doesn't need saving."

Hunter stepped back into the shadows, his tall, broad-shouldered frame blending into the darkness.

"Hey, Miss Price. Remember, he's a shark. They eat their young. You know," this voice called out from the shadows, the words echoing off the metal of the cars that surrounded them.

Rachel turned her head slightly and called out, "Good to know all that time sitting watching the discovery channel wasn't wasted."

With that, she was too close to the limousine to continue the conversation. She quickened her pace and climbed into the back seat, leaving the shadowy figure of Hunter behind.

**********

Hours later, Rachel stumbled into suite 1442, her vision blurring as she struggled to keep her balance. The neon green numbers on the clock seemed to dance in front of her eyes as she tried to focus on them. She saw that it was around three in the morning. Charlie, who had been waiting up for her, jumped to her feet and rushed over to open the door for her. The limousine trip had been for Levant and "the girls" only, and Rachel had been dreading the moment she would have to return to the suite.

"Oh, fuck," she gasped, collapsing onto the soft, inviting mattress of the main bed.

"What happened at the club?" Charlie asked eagerly, her eyes bright with curiosity.

"We danced. We drank with him. He took us into some private restroom and he poured out what do they call it? Blow? He blew some up his nose and we had to sniff it up. I puked. I was petrified the whole time. I mean, what if someone who knew me saw me there? With him? I've never been so embarrassed in my life. Yeah, I nearly had to kiss him. I nearly puked again. Oh, fuck, I hated that. I am not doing that, no way," Rachel said, her words tumbling out in a rush as she tried to describe the horrors of the evening.

Just then, Charlie's phone rang with a message. Everyone had to go to the now-empty restaurant for the results. Charlie grabbed Rachel by the hand and practically dragged her out of the suite, frog-marching her towards the elevator. Rachel was barely able to put one foot in front of the other, her head spinning from the combination of alcohol and the drugs Levant had forced upon her.

As they arrived, Levant was smiling.

"OK," he began, "as you know, this was a contest to see which one of you could be the most persuasive. I told you to find a straight boy and talk him into cross-dressing for the night. The girls have all done really well. Good choice. Very good choice. So I had to decide between them. After all, it's not a fair race if there isn't a winner. Now my two favorite girls are Rachel and Melanie. Stand over here, girls."