The waitress, who has yet to introduce herself, pushes the office door open and walks in. I suck in a deep breath as I follow behind her, but I let it out when I realize it’s empty.

I sit down on the couch that sits against the far wall while she goes over to the end of the wall and opens a door. She bends down and throws out a few cuss words as she goes through a box. “What size are your tits?” she demands frustrated.

I blink a few times at her. Uh, that’s personal. But I find myself saying, “34D.”

“And your waist?”

“I wear a size three,” I answer softly.

“Motherfucker,” she hisses before she jumps to her feet. “He doesn’t have a D, so you get a C. But he has the shorts.”

I look down at my t-shirt to stare at my chest. “I don’t think they’ll fit in a C.” Their tops already look too tight if you ask me.

She holds up the black corset covered in sparkles. It has the illusion that it ties up the front, but it’s fake. It zips up the back. She admires the top as she holds it up to my chest. “It’ll be fine. Plus, it will just make your tips even better.”

Thirty minutes later, I look at myself in a full-length mirror back in the locker room. Just as I had suspected, the top is too small.

“It looks good.”

I turn around to face the redhead. I know that is not her natural color—it has to come from a bottle—because it is bright freaking red. It’s very pretty on her, though. “They are about to pop out,” I say trying to breathe. She shrugs. “I can barely breathe.” I place a hand on my stomach. “Loosen it,” I order her.

She just shakes her head. “It doesn’t loosen. Plus, if you did, then you would for sure fall out. It needs to be tight. If it’s too loose and you bend over at a table, you will be serving them your tits and not their drinks. Is that what you want?”

“No.” I sigh. “How long until I can get the right size?” I have never worn something this tight in all of my life.

“I left Case a note on his desk with your size and told him to order you one. It shouldn’t take him long,”

Why does the thought of him knowing my chest size embarrass me? The guy has already seen me naked; he doesn’t need to know my measurements.

“Let’s go,” she says already heading out of the locker room

It only took me thirty minutes into the club opening to find out that I sucked at being a waitress. I’ve already spilled three drinks and knocked over my tray twice, and I only have one table. If I could, I would go over to a corner and cry my eyes out. Instead, I plaster a fake smile on my face and I keep going.

“You need to move faster,” she hisses in my ear. It’s so hard to concentrate with the loud music and flashing lights. Let alone hold a tray in my hands and walk through the packed club.

“I’m trying.” The tray that I’m balancing on my hand starts to wobble, and I lift my other hand to stabilize it. I smile brightly as I stare at her.

The next thing I know, I’m on the floor looking up at her, now covered in alcohol. “Ugh,” she says stomping her foot and storming away from me.

“Sorry,” a man shouts as he grabs my arm and picks me up from the floor.

“It’s okay,” I say, trying to brush the alcohol off me. I smell like a walking bar and I’m wet. Makes me nauseous.

“What all did you have on your tray?” he asks over the loud music as he pulls his wallet out of his back pocket.

“Oh no, that’s not necessary,” I say waving my hand at him. I may have never been a waitress before, but I’m pretty sure that’s not how it works. He shouldn’t have to pay for another table’s drinks because I fell down. He thinks he tripped me, but it was my fault.

“Let’s go,” my warden says coming back to grab me by the arm once again. I wave and thank him as she pulls me into the crowd.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

 

CASE

I look up from my desk as Rachel comes bursting through my office door. A beaten down Taylor strolls in behind her. No doubt, the night has taken its toll on her. It’s now thirty minutes past closing time, and I’m sure she’s exhausted.

“What can I do for you ladies?” I ask.

“Well, for starters, you can fire her,” Rachel demands, and I raise an eyebrow in question.

“No,” Taylor squeals as she steps forward. “Please?” she begs, and I like the way that single word sounds on her desperate lips. “Give me another chance.”

Rachel snorts then opens her mouth to speak, but I raise my hand to quiet her.

“What happened?” I ask, looking over at Taylor. Her bottom lip trembles, and she looks like she’s gonna cry.

“Well, I … uh, spilled a few drinks,” she says softly as she looks down at her hands in front of her.

“A few?” Rachel sneers. “You dropped more than a few. One was right on the customer. I’ve never had to buy more drinks than I can count.” She places her hands on her hips and huffs, causing her tits to bounce.

“Go home, Rachel,” I say dismissing her.

“But …”

“Go home,” I demand. Rachel looks over at Taylor, who just drops her head to stare at the floor in shame. Thankfully, Rachel turns on her heels and leaves my office, slamming the door behind her.

“Why are you here, Taylor?”

She very slowly looks up at me. “Because I needed a job and you offered me one.”

I stand and walk to the front of my desk, crossing my arms over my chest as I lean back on it. I look her up and down and notice her uniform fits her perfectly. The black corset pushes her large tits up to where her chin almost rests on them as she stares down at the floor. Her white shorts show off her long, lean legs. They glisten somewhat from the alcohol spills. I imagine standing behind her as I very slowly unzip her corset and push her up against the glass behind me that overlooks the club. “In order to keep you, you have to offer me something,” I say,

Her head snaps up to look at me. Her baby blue eyes are wide as quarters. I watch her swallow nervously and nod her head once. “Yes, sir.”

Another single word that does something to me. I’ve always hated that word, sir, but with her, it fits. I have a dirty image of her on her knees with her begging please, sir, fuck my mouth. I clear my throat. Why do my thoughts of her always go to sex?

“The club, you need to offer the club something,” I say correcting my previous statement. No matter how much I want her to offer herself to me, now is not the time. “You’re beautiful,” I say, and she blushes looking away. “Your body is perfect.” I should know; I’ve seen all of it. “But that’s as far as it goes.”

She looks at me and frowns. “What are you talking about?”

“Men wanna come out to get away from their nagging wives. They wanna think they can still pick up any woman they want. You need to give them a reason to go home and fuck their wives. The single men who come out are looking for someone they can take home. And it doesn’t matter how hot you look, men want to see a woman who has confidence. And that’s what I wanna see from you.”

She nods once. “Yes, sir.” I growl but cover it with a cough. Fuck, she needs to quit saying that.

“I’ll give you one more night.”

She looks at me for a few long seconds as if she wants to argue. We both know exactly what she’s not saying. She doesn’t need this job. She could get a job anywhere. Hell, I practically had to beg her to take it. But, at last, she finally says, “Thank you for not firing me.” Her eyes drop down to the floor once again as if she was embarrassed to have to thank me for giving her another chance.

I wouldn’t fire her even if she begged me. I need her here where I can see her. I’m already keeping many things from her; what’s one more?

Since she’s not quitting, I walk back around my desk and sit down. I stare at my computer but can still see her standing in front of me. I tilt my head from side to side, trying to relieve the tension in my neck. I wish I could use her to release the tension. “You’re dismissed.” I need her to leave before I say or do something that I will regret later. Thankfully, she turns and sprints out of my office.