Nikita: Sign on the Dotted Line

Food was the last thing on Nikita’s mind as she sat on the bench, watching the monorail trains come and go. She wasn’t just homesick, she was already here-sick, sick of being in a city with high-rise buildings and fake lakes, there was nothing - absolutely nothing real or natural. Driving was next to impossible, and everything was so damn crowded. Even the bench she sat on held four other people at any given moment. Despite the crowd, she snapped her gum and continued her sulk.

It wasn’t Nikka’s fault. It wasn’t Nike’s fault. She couldn’t even blame Klaus, not really. He was just trying to do right by himself, going about it all wrong. He’d made some investments, trusted some unsavory types, and he was an easy fall guy. But knowing the truth didn’t make it any less of a bitter pill to swallow.

She slid the card out of her pocket, and looked at the name embossed on the front. Andreas Enterprises. Jasmine Martinez, Talent acquisition. There was no harm, she decided, in keeping options open.

Stepping down off the platform, she called the number, and waited for the girl to pick up.

“Jasmine? It’s Nikita, from the rave. We talked a bit last night, and I’ve slept on it - I think it’s a great opportunity. If there’s a slot still open, that is.”

Jasmine practically squealed on the other end, telling her she’d be perfect. “You will not regret this girl!” She told her. “Of course, there’s a few formalities, I have to submit your photo, and I’ll personally vouch for you, you were at a Skye party so I know you don’t have a stick up your ass. Send me some selfies, you know, pics that show who you are. I’ll get them to Ari and let you know - but trust me when I say you’re in. Why don’t you come by my place? I’ll help you pick photos or take some if we need to, and get you squared away with the NDA and contract. You are just what he’s looking for, trust me.”

Trust me seemed to be Jasmine’s favorite phrase. “A photo of you surfing? He’ll love that, trust me. A photo on the beach? That’s the one. Trust me.” She picked a dozen photos from Nikita’s phone, including a few of the ones she recently took as they traveled from Cali Beach. She took a few more herself for good measure. “Just in case Ari just wants to see headshots, trust me. And just as a formality, here’s a contract saying basically what happens on the island, stays on the island. Ari has a rep to protect, after all.”

“Ari?” Nikita asked warily. She felt like she should have Nike or Bishop look over the papers, there were smarter about business things like that than she ever hoped to be.

“Aristotle Andreas,” Jasmine said back, matter of fact. “As in most eligible bachelor number one? No funny business goes on, he just doesn’t want anyone writing a tell all book or anything. I told you, it’s a modeling job, you’re basically a showroom girl, only your showroom is the island. And I don’t mean to rush you, but he does want all contracts in by end of day today.”

Nikita scowled, and started to look over the papers. “Five hundred credits?” She asked. “Per day?”

“Plus tips, gifts, a clothing allowance, a beauty team at your disposal, free of charge for hair and make up,” she said absently. “Full access to everything the island has to offer on your downtime. But hey, if you don’t want to sign the contract, I have other girls who would practically kill for this opportunity. It’s up to you, really.”

It sounded too good to be true, but everything she was saying was right there in black and white.

“And I don’t have to sleep with the guy,” Nikita clarified.

“You should be so lucky,” Jasmine scoffed, pointing to the clause in the contract about sex and consent.

“Trust me,” Jasmine added one final time, handing Nikita a pen.

Nikita looked between Jasmine and the paper, and with a fuck it all attitude, took the pen and signed.

She was there longer than she’d anticipated, Jasmine wanted to celebrate and ordered a pizza, then invited a few girls over, including a few other ‘newbies’ like Nikita. They’d recently signed too and champagne was handed out all around. “Party every night on the island!” Jasmine promised, turning up the music. “Let’s see who Ari picks!”