Billy titled his head as a thoughtful expression flashed across his face. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. We are both lucky.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted Linda giving me the stare down. Nerves jittered in my stomach. She had the temper of mount Olympus if you got on her bad side. I looked back at Billy. “Can you prepare me a tray of shots? Let’s do fuzzy nipples, Jell-O shots, and lemon drops.”

“You got it.”

With quick efficiency, he completed my order. The rainbow colored alcohol looked like a hangover waiting to happen. These men didn’t care though. All they cared about was indulging in a night away from their responsibilities. Wives, kids, and bills were forgotten as a pleasant buzz consumed them. Number one reason why alcohol or drugs weren’t my thing. My mom attempted to forget until the day she died. It was a slippery slope, forgetting.

“Thanks,” I said to Billy.

“No problem. Be safe out there.”

“Always am.”

I hoisted the tray above my head and stretched my face into a coy smile. Here goes nothing. As soon as I stepped into the lounge area, men’s gazes churned with approval. Their eyes traveled over my body as if I was a feast they wanted to devour. Shoving away my disgust, I concentrated on the end result. A fat pocket overflowing with tips. A gentleman surrounded by five others waved a wad of cash at me.

“Good evening. What is your poison tonight?” I purred.

The head honcho with the cash shoved five twenties into my apron. “Whatever you got. We want it all.” He slapped his friend next to him on the back. “My old roommate is getting married next week.”

“Congrats. She is a lucky woman.”

I placed twelve shots on the wooden table. They grabbed them with eager hands and downed the shots in a single gulp. Fingers closed around my wrist as I turned to leave.

The head honcho’s eyes leered at my cleavage. “Would you like to make our evening a little more fun?”

When pig’s fly was what I wanted to say but instead I said, “What do you have in mind, handsome?”

“Body shots.”

Body shots were my least favorite part about this job. Having men’s mouths on your body was repulsive. Be that as it may, Linda’s number one rule was to ensure the customer was happy. Any sexual favors were off limits but everything else was fair game.

I forced a weak nod. “You got it.”

The next three minutes were a blur of degrading myself. The men took shots out of my cleavage, hooting and hollering. Their lips left a permanent stain on my skin and all I wanted to do was dive into a pool of chlorine.

The man of the hour stared at me unsteadily. “Thanks, sweetheart. You’re a doll.” He lowered his voice. “Maybe after this, me and you can take a ride to booty town.”

“I don’t think your fiancée would appreciate that.”

“She’ll never find out.”

I mentally took back what I mentioned earlier. This guy’s future wife wasn’t lucky, not by a long shot. I bet my left eyetooth their marriage wouldn’t last more than two years. It never does when your husband can’t keep his dick in his pants. Without saying anything, I swept the tray off the table. Fifteen minutes down, six more hours to go. Sidling up to the bar, Billy glanced up from his order and eyed the empty tray.

“Damn girl. That didn’t take long. Same thing?”

Linda appeared, as I was about to respond. Her stick-straight bob hit her chin in a hairstyle very few could pull off. A pinstripe suit hugged her curve-free body while smoky eye makeup highlighted her blue eyes.

“You’re wanted in the VIP room,” she said.

“Which one?”

“Vegas.”

“Is there anything in particular they are requesting?” I wondered.

“A chilled bottle of Krug Brut Vintage and a round of vodka.” She glanced at Billy. “You got that?”

“Got it, Boss.”

Her severe stare turned my stomach into knots. “Don’t fuck this up. They are important clients. You hear me?”

“I hear you,” I croaked.

Linda turned on her heels and walked in the direction of her office. Once my tray was refilled, I took a calming breath.

“You got this,” Billy encouraged.

“I hope so.”

The Vegas room was in the back of the gentleman’s club through a discreet entrance. Red tinted lights illuminated my path. The words, ‘knock for pleasure,’ were written on the door. I turned the knob with trepid anticipation. Smoke hung in the air like a veil, burning my lungs and eyes. What the hell were they smoking in here? On the other side of the room, one of Rogue’s premier dancers was contorting her body around a pole. Nipple tassels swung in rhythm with her movements. I glided toward the red pleather booth where a large crowd was situated. Men and woman of varying ages dressed in shades of black, cream, and brown looked up at my arrival. Their sophisticated auras were a shock against the tackiness of the room. They regarded me with disdain as if I was no better than a used heroin needle. How lovely. On the bright side, they won’t ask me to do body shots in fear of catching cooties.

“Did somebody order some shots?” I oozed enough peppiness in my tone to kill a pack of cheerleaders. “Or how bout some champagne?”

Nothing. I was met with blank stares. Linda told me not to fuck this up and guess what? I was. It wasn’t my fault that these customers were snobby and frigid. They needed to lighten up or go to a different venue.

“I did. I ordered the round of shots,” a voice said behind me.

My back went rigid. Even after spending less than two minutes together, I would recognize that voice anywhere. Regardless, I wished to the cruel gods above to prove otherwise.

A girl from the crowd spoke. “Why did you do that, Andrew? It’s probably shitty vodka.”

Andrew. There were a million and one Andrews in this world but only one had a voice that promised sex. His gaze could be felt on the underside of my legs, roaming to the small apex of my back. Warmth spread between my thighs.

“So? Vodka is meant to get you drunk. Who the fuck cares if it is expensive or not?” Andrew said, irate.

The girl rolled her eyes while a smirk played out on her lips. “You’re such a white trash boy at heart. I love it.”

Ignoring her backhanded compliment, his presence grew closer until I grew dizzy with his scent. “Let me help you.” Andrew’s lips brushed my ear as he came around. “This tray must be heavy.”

“It’s fine,” I lied.

When our gazes locked, recognition sparked in his eyes followed by bewilderment. Bewilderment was understandable. This morning I was a barista in need of saving and thoroughly clothed. What wasn’t understandable was the disapproval radiating from every pore of his body. Fuck Andrew and the mighty horse he rode on. Half the population couldn’t afford to do passion projects. Some of us needed to actually make a living.

I slammed the tray onto to the table. “Enjoy.”

With as much dignity as I could muster, my five-inch heels carried me out of the VIP room. I blinked away tears because Andrew wasn’t worth them. He did exactly what I feared he would do. Look upon me like his friends did. Weird how Andrew didn’t give a shit what I did for living when he was admiring my backside.

“I’m going to take a break,” I said to Billy.

“Ok be back in twenty.”

The brick wall scratched my skin as I slid into a crouching position. The alleyway behind the gentleman club was our break room. It wasn’t the cleanest environment. Broken beer bottles littered the ground along with the occasional used condom. That said fresh air felt amazing after being cooped up in that windowless box. I slipped a piece of razzle-berry gum into my mouth. It was the only thing stopping me from wanting a cigarette. I’d quit two years ago but when something upset me, I craved hard for that sweet buzz. What Andrew thought wasn’t going to be my downfall. I’d met the guy twelve hours ago, why did I care so much? Yes, being a shot girl didn’t garner respect like a doctor would. However, the girls who were employed at Rogue weren’t working there because it was their dream job. They were working there because life knocked them into a hole and they were trying to claw their way out. Honey, aka Quincy, had a one-year old daughter with special needs. Her husband walked out on them as soon as he realized his daughter wasn’t “normal.” Honey turned to stripping to pay for her daughter’s care. Candy’s, aka Carly’s, mother drained her college account and ran off with a man named Bobby Joe. Working the night shift at Rogue allowed Candy to take classes at the local community college. She had a year left until she could apply for nursing programs. These women were incredible human beings. How dare anyone snubs their noses at them or me?