Avi hesitated outside the nondescript office building, unconsciously tracing circles with the toe of their shoe on the searingly hot sidewalk. They squinted at the sign on the door. "C lleg Med cal Of ic s," read the remaining letters painted on the door. Avi had no idea if the reference to (what they assumed) was supposed to read "College" was in relation to the street the building was located on or the semi-proximity of the large campus several miles away. Not that it particularly mattered. Avi, a first year college student, was desperate for a job. After coming out to their family, they'd lost all familial support, and despite a generous scholarship, they knew they'd need to get a job in order to stay in school. They'd applied to multiple positions--nearly anything they saw advertised--but so far, they hadn't had much luck. But last week during a break in classes, someone had approached them while they were enjoying some sun on the quad. The man was neatly dressed in clearly expensive but purposely understated clothing: slim chinos that hugged his thighs in all the right places, a soft but tailored button down shirt with sleeves rolled nearly to his elbows, comfy-looking but stylish leather loafers. Avi had looked up in surprise when his shadow fell across the pages of their book.
The man gazed down on them with the hint of a smile--and something else. It felt like he was appraising Avi, his eyes traveling from their alert, curious eyes over the patch of stubble on their chin and down their throat, their flat chest, soft belly, generous hips, and toned legs. Avi was wearing a worn tshirt that draped over them like a second skin, along with a pair of basketball shorts. The tshirt covered the binder they wore to keep their chest flat, but nothing could hide the curves of their hips. Avi blushed a little as the man continued to openly stare at them. Finally, he spoke. "I've heard you're looking for a job," the man stated matter of factly. "I work for a...talent agency. We're looking for personal assistants for certain high-level executives in the area. We specialize in a very...specific...kind of work, so our compensation is quite generous. If you're interested, we're having a kind of hiring fair next week."
He paused, giving Avi the chance to respond. "Uh...yes, I am looking for work," Avi replied. Something about his presence made them feel guarded. "When you say 'specific kind of work,' what exactly do you mean?"
The man smiled broadly. "It's very important in our line of work to remain discreet," he explained. "If you are interested, the best way to get more information is to come to the job fair. However, due to our clients' requirements, you will need to get a medical clearance first. Standard stuff--regular physical and all. We will pay for it--you just need to go to the office. Once you're cleared, we'll set up a time for you to meet our hiring manager and learn more about the position."
Avi almost laughed. This seemed sketchy. Why would anyone pay for a physical before even inviting someone to a hiring fair.
The man didn't seem impressed by their disinterest. "Obviously, the choice is up to you," he said, much more coldly. "But before you make a decision, you should know that the positions we offer including living quarters, are expressly designed to work with your school schedule, and will also include full tuition reimbursement as well as a living stipend. The work, while perhaps unorthodox, pays quite well."
Avi sobered up immediately. It was eerie how the man seemed to know what challenges they'd been facing. If they could get a place to live, their tuition paid for, a schedule that allowed them to stay in school--and a stipend? It would change their life.
"Take the card," the man said, proffering one. "If you are interested, call the number on the back and tell them Jack said to set you up for a physical. Once you get it, I'll be in touch." He slid the card into Avi's hand, then turned around and left abruptly.
"But how will you know how to contact me?" Avi spluttered after him, the card resting in their palm. Jack, if that was actually his name, simply waved his hand, not even deigning to look behind him.
And that was how Avi came to be standing on the baking sidewalk outside the medical office. They had called the number on the card and been sent to a nondescript lab for some random tests: TB, blood draws, STI testing. It seemed odd to include the last category on a pre-work physical, but what did Avi know? Five days after completing those tests, they'd received a call telling them to report to this office for a physical at this date and time. Luckily, it hadn't coincided with any of their classes. Not for the first time, they wondered if this whole thing was an elaborate prank. Who cared, really? They were desperate. This was worth a shot. They could always back out. Avi pushed open the door and entered the waiting room.
The room was nothing like what Avi had expected from the outside. The floor was covered with clean, light grey vinyl plank flooring. The walls were painted a soft mint color, and incredibly comfortable looking couches and a couple armchairs dotted the room. The receptionist sat at a desk near a door in the back of the room, a door which presumably led to the doctor's offices. The whole room smelled of lavender and something else Avi couldn't quite place. An assortment of prepackaged snacks sat on a low buffet cabinet, and there was a mini fridge with fresh fruit and a beverage cooler with assorted drinks on either side. The receptionist looked up. "Avi, right?" she smiled. "We've been expecting you." The woman was tall, nearly Avi's height. She wore an expensive looking sweater and soft knit slacks. Her makeup was flawless. Avi felt out of place immediately.
