A Novel on Human Sexuality, Spirituality, and Healing Ch21

Book Title: <21 Too Young; By J.C. Miller; Limited Pre-Publishing Preview

Photo by Paige Cody on Unsplash

Chapter 21

Could you help me just a little, Dwayne, please? I’ve signed the contract because the pay was so great, and I didn’t really have too much time to look through exactly what the contract terms were. I’ve already been asked to do a few things as well, I don’t know, just don’t feel right.” Gena was calling Dwayne on the phone, asking for some legal advice.

“Things don’t feel right? Like in what way?”

“Well, the way they are treating me and telling me what to do! Like I’m, well, I don’t know, like a slave! And on top of that, they told me that part of my job is to go around to parks where kids gather and get them to come in for volunteer work…and well, the work isn’t really volunteer or kid friendly…”

“What the fuck did you get yourself into???”

“I don’t know. I was going to call Natalia and see if I could join you guys for dinner…”

“You really gotta stop this habit of coming to us weeks later with your problems for us to solve. You need to come before a problem arises! We don’t mind helping you! You’re like a younger sister to both of us! Let us help you be preemptive about your decisions, and or help before something gets too damn tricky!”

“I’m sorry, I should have come to you both to show you the contract.”

“So what is it? How are they treating you that makes you feel, how the fuck did you say? Like a slave?”

“Well, they tell me what’s acceptable to wear at the office and around the executives, and when I walk through, I just feel like every eye is on me, and they are just drooling at the mouth waiting to pounce on me.”

“Well, you are a good-looking woman, fake tits, lips, and ass, extensions and all. What do you expect from men? Aren’t there any other women in there? I’m not trying to be rude…fuck…or sound misogynistic…didn’t you say they asked you to wear something ‘edgy’ to the interview?”

“Yes.”

“Well, fuck! At the BarBell, when I interviewed, I had to wear something that accentuated my physique at the time… but I knew what the job was… some jobs are like that… shit. Uh… fuck, so you wanna quit cause their drooling all over you? I thought you liked that!” Dwayne shook his head, confused.

“Ok… hmm… how do I say this? Uh… they do adult films, but apparently I was hired to well… fuck how do I say this… to…to… target minors…”

“For film????”

“Ya, uh, I don’t know. It’s really underhanded, and sly and sneaky — it just doesn’t feel right. I tell kids at events at schools, street fairs, and amusement parks, where they can go to donate time at a senior facility, they get bussed there, but then the kids get taken to a studio first for pictures…individual and group pics…It sounded innocent, like they were going to take a picture to hang at the senior facility to remind the seniors who they were or something — I wasn’t really aware at the time I thought they were like dementia patients or something. Then later, I ran into one of the girls again, and she told me it was super fun; the senior facility trip was cancelled, and they got to dress up in costumes and lingerie as a part of the picture session.

They had to reschedule coming back to the senior facility, and she was super excited because they were going to help her become a social media star after someone saw her pictures — she’s only nine!!! Something’s not right. I want out. Can you see what the contract says? It’s been filed, and I don’t have access to it anymore.”

“Fuck. That’s a damn pickle. Who was the file-smith?”

“I’ll text you his contact info and forward an email that has their file-smith insignia on it.

“That’ll work. Natalia and I are leaving on vacation tomorrow. I’ll take a look this evening after work, but I don’t have time to dig in too deep. I’ll have to take a closer look after our vacation, and I’m damn near throwing my phone away cause I don’t want to be interrupted by anyone or anything while we are gone. So don’t even try to call, just deal with it till we get back…okay…ya; there; and there; I see the text and email, they both just came through.”

“Ok. Thank you. I really appreciate it.” Gena said with an increasing high pitched tone, like she was helpless and he was swooping in to save her, and she didn’t know how she could thank him.

“Oh, you think you’re off the hook that easy, huh?” Dwayne said with a slight irritation.

“Well, no…what do you want from me?” Gena blushed and Dwayne could hear it in her tone. He rolled his eyes on the other line and said,

“Call Natalia and let her know in full detail why I’ll be home late the night before our trip!!!”

“Oh, ya, of course,” Gena said, sounding slightly dejected. She had been hoping that ‘getting off the hook that easy’ meant she would need to give some sexual favor to Dwayne for the help — which she had been dying to do for years; but he wasn’t that type. She changed her tone immediately to a grateful damsel in distress and said, “Thank you. Thank you Dwayne, you’re the best. I love you so much! I’ll call Natalia right now.” Gena hung up the phone.

“This woman!!!” Dwayne said, shaking his head and throwing his hands up in the air.

Later that night, Dwayne flipped through the pages of the document. He was looking for any discrepancies that might stand out or clauses which were legally binding that could be problematic for an employer to have, which would legally bind an employee to a contract, affecting them negatively in the future.

He had found the legal writer firms for small businesses with a limited number of employees who were not required to file online, due to the size or nature of the business. Often, money laundering businesses were found to file in a paper manner, to hide the nature of their business and business practices. It was a sort of loophole that even some of the largest and most ‘upstanding’ businesses used to keep traceable evidence off the AI monitored electronic disclosure systems that could be more easily pulled up in the event the company was sued. Paper could be lost; become moth ridden, ink could blur, and file-smiths could die unexpectedly; and crime would go on, with more papers shoved in cardboard boxes in musty, ghetto, industrial blocks.

He had contacted a buddy he knew who worked part time at the firm that had the insignia stamp in her correspondence email for signatures.

He knew all too well, businesses with shady backgrounds kept these paper-only copies of contracts and had pages and pages of clauses that stated whistleblowers, and those who wanted out of their contract early, would suffer consequences ranging from: reporting to other companies a negative dialogue that could make rehire nearly impossible for years. For others, contract termination resulted in a ‘life expectancy clipping’ — medical alteration of one’s genome; disease implantation; and for some, physical termination by various forms of torture, including live organ donation, cutting out vital organs, sewing them back up, and leaving them to die.

Businesses that dealt mainly in cash over crypto, evading taxes, used paper legal firms that kept a single binding copy of a contract on file. A file-smith and a secretary at the front desk were the only two people ever there.

Every lawyer in law school was required to spend 2–4 hours a week working at a paper-filing firm as a file-smith, and was required to review documents. He had put his hours in years ago, and like every other young lawyer, skimmed the lines barely caring, until one day a line caught his attention. He scanned and reported it.

The next day, a slimy businessman had arrived to question him and learn the reason his paper filing had been turned down. While Dwayne was explaining his reasoning, the man had slipped him an envelope with 10,000 dollars and asked him to word it more ‘appropriately,’ stating he didn’t want to get turned in, ever again, revealing a holstered gun in his jacket as he pulled the money from his pocket.

He knew a few people who made very good money working for companies they had met during their time as file-smiths. He had chosen to look the other way from then on, looking only for typos and punctuation errors.

This evening, he was looking for binding clauses in Gena’s irrationally signed contract. — He found it. A clause that stated; breaking her seven year contract would result in her swift retrieval and termination.

He snapped pictures with a non-hackable lock tight folder app on his phone, to keep it from being accessed by the roving AI policing algorithms online.

He picked up his phone in the dark room and dialed her number as he stood up from the desk and slipped out the front door, locking it behind him.

“I found it, Gena. You’re fucked.”

Read more of this book: <21 Too Young, here:

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J.C. Miller

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