When I was hired and heard some of the girls talking about what went on in the back rooms, I was adamant when I told Charlie my ass would be firmly kept on the public side of the divider. He didn’t care either way–he was happy to have a “sexy young thing” working the tables. His words.
That didn’t stop guys from asking me to go back there. I would divert their attention to Charlie and he would find some other willing victim to stroke their egos–and possibly their dicks.
The hulking, slimy man in front of me didn’t want to take no for an answer. “I hate to break it to you darlin’, but I own this place and Charlie works for me. I want you, sweetness.” He licked his lips, attempting to be seductive. “Plus, I have a lot of money, and you look like a girl who knows how to hustle.”
My stomach rolled at the thought of him touching me. I glanced around for Charlie, hoping for an interference. Not that he was easy to spot in the packed room–he was short and had a way of blending in with the crowd. He only popped up whenever he wasn’t needed.
A waitress named Delaney, who was also the shift manager, overheard our conversation and stepped up next to me. She leaned over the counter to speak to the creep. “Baby, I would be happy to take care of you tonight.” She dragged her blood-red fingernail along his arm and winked.
“But I like them when they fight back.” His creepy grin would haunt my nightmares.
“You know I can be whatever you want,” she purred.
I stood frozen at his words. He wasn’t looking at Delaney, he was looking at me. I couldn’t hold my customer service mask on any longer. “My shift’s over and I’m going home. I don’t work the back rooms, so don’t ask me again.”
Delaney gasped, flipping her blonde ponytail as I maneuvered behind her to punch out using the tablet system. My body filled with rage at this stranger (my boss?) who thought he could pay me to spread my legs for him. He was old enough to be my father. Disgusting.
“I’m sorry about that, Hannigan. She’s new. She doesn’t understand how things work around here,” Delaney scowled. She was still stroking his arm and presenting her best bedroom eyes.
“It’s fine baby, you know it only makes it that much sweeter when they cave. I’ll be in the back waiting for you.” He shook off her arm and stood abruptly before heading to the back.
“What the fuck is your problem? You can’t talk to him that way. Don’t you know who that is?” She snapped.
“I’m all for customer service, but you’re crazy if you think I’m going to entertain some old fuck for a few dollars.”
I turned to walk back to the employee locker room, but Delaney grabbed my arm before I could leave, her nails leaving crescent-shaped dents in my skin. “Don’t do that again! Hannigan’s one of the best-paying people we have here, and he’s technically your boss and you need to show him some respect. You’re not better than us just because you don’t work back there. Trust me, someday you will. Get off your high horse and learn the play nice or get the fuck out of here.” Delaney stomped off in her high heels without another glance.
I didn’t have the best relationships with the girls at Aces because I was one of the few who refused to be “entertainment”. From what I could tell, each girl could set her limit and it was respected. Mostly. There were rumors about things going too far and scaring girls off. The thought made me want to lose my lunch all over the bar.
I knew I was playing with fire working at a place like this, but the tips were insane. I only worked three nights a week because–with school starting soon–I would need the time to keep my grades up for a scholarship to Gilchrist Point University. It was the only shot I had at going to college and making something of myself. Of getting the hell out of the south side and away from Mom. Of not having to live paycheck to paycheck for the rest of my life. It was difficult balancing school, work, bills, friendships–what few I had–let alone make time to date. That was out of the question. I couldn’t even entertain the idea of carving more time out of my life for another person.
Most months I was left to foot the bills like the mortgage, water, trash, electricity, insurance, et fucking cetera. Mom couldn’t hold down a job to save her life, especially once she realized my brother Remington and I were making money. Me, the mostly legal way. Remington, the not-so-legal way.
Back when Remington lived with us, he didn’t help with anything. All his money went to his hobbies–drugs, alcohol, and sex–so when he told me he was moving out, I barely noticed. He was never around anyway. He still stopped by occasionally to ask for money and to do his laundry. When Mom worked, her money was gone the second it went into her checking account. If she wasn’t spending it on wine and takeout, she was buying ridiculously expensive designer handbags and shoes. What kind of person gets their water shut off but has a Louis Vuitton purse? That would be Eve Hawthorne.
I traipsed through the mess of a crowd still lingering around the bar and made my way to the locker room. The ladies of Aces were prepping for a long night of stripping, jerking, and blowing. I shuddered at the thought as I grabbed my hoodie and purse and slammed the locker shut. I waved goodbye awkwardly to the girls and made my exit.
As I walked to my car, I couldn’t help but think of talking to West. Of seeing West. Of being stared at by West.
West and his ridiculous smirks and scowls.
Did he hate me? Did he like me? Did he feel bad for what he did to me?
Most likely not.
Did I care?
Yes, but I shouldn’t. Not when he disposed of me so easily. I know I’m worth more than the way he treated me, yet I felt drawn to him like a magnet.
Self-depreciation at its finest. I blamed my parents for that.
3
Ashtyn
Fuckmylifewas my thought as I checked my schedule for the millionth time. My eyesight blurred as I read over the lines again.Calculus. World literature. Chemistry…
I had an appointment with my guidance counselor to change my schedule this morning. If I got stuck with these classes, the year would be rife with nights where I pulled my hair out trying to read prose written by an old fart who died in the 1800s. I had more important things to do, like read spicy reverse harem novels on my Kindle with a joint and not a fuck to give.