Chapter 1
Bonnie
With her back to the sparkling party, my housemate adjusted her boobs in her metallic gold bra and swept her gaze over the assembled waitresses.
“On the gong, the nearest man will tug on the ties of your bikini top so it falls away. More than one could fight for the right, so be sure to keep a smile on your face even if they elbow you, then collect the garment, swirl it over your head, and toss it out of sight.”
Next to me, a pretty brunette stuck up her hand to get Genie’s attention. “What if they pull the wrong string by accident and take down my bikini bottoms? Do I let them?”
I shoved a tray under my arm, my snark unable to remain in control. “You mis-said entirely on purpose.”
Genie cut me a look. “Great question. Remember we’re selling a performance. Make a show of being shocked, cover yourself, and tie the bottoms back on. Feel free to give them a show as you do it.”
Strippy McStripperson giggled. “Touch my toes, flash a little lip, boost my tips. Got it.”
Ugh. Kill me now.
I’d signed up for the private party for the fat fee, certain I could contain my temper for the sake of the cash. Hands down, it beat any other gig I had going on, and the income would make a huge difference to my plans.
If only I could keep my cool.
A challenge, considering the clientele.
No.I could handle them. It was just one night. A few fake laughs, a few grand tucked into my knickers, then back to my real life—my sketches, my designs. The future I could build off of sweat and tears.
Wasn’t that how all businesses started out?
Outside the glass doors, the patio was filled with the braying of rich businessman, one of whom had bought Genie’s topless waitress service for his event. She had no problem with being felt up by grey-haired men who did whatever they liked because of their stuffed wallets.
Even walking in at the start of my shift had me feeling stabby.
With a flap of her hands, Genie hustled us out, champagne and canapes on our polished trays. I circulated, one eye on the clock and a tight grip kept on my emotions.
Snippets of conversation reached me.
Despite my role, wandering the crowd in a bikini and with heels so high I had to totter, the business talk actually interested me. I lingered near a trio of old boys yapping about business startups and how they’d watched people fail for avoidable reasons. It quickened my pulse.
I had a goal to open my own company. A deeply held, cherished aim that had little basis in my background. No one in my family had ever owned anything more valuable than afourth-hand car, and only ever worked for men like these. They never aspired to be among their ranks.
One day, I wanted to be in the position they were.
Just without groping the opposite sex in order to big myself up.
Across the room, Genie’s younger sister, Jessie, swished away from the reaching hands of one such lowlife, only just avoiding him grabbing her ass. His grey moustache tweaked over his smug grin, and he said something to her I couldn’t hear over the music and chatter.
But I couldn’t miss her reaction.
The nineteen-year-old flushed red and skittered away to the bar where a scantily clad bartender waited to refill our trays.
I pressed my lips together and stared down the man who’d offended her.
My brain ticked through the guest register, given to us by Genie before the event. The host had a shortlist of favourites he wanted to impress, so we’d been shown photos to make sure we kept their glasses full and our bodies in their eyeline.
Douglas Tucker was our man of the moment, and the owner of an investment firm, from what I’d read. I’d meant to attempt conversation. Now, I only wanted to whip my tray at him.
I took a step.
Genie appeared at my shoulder. She was in her element with a classic red lip, tight ponytail, and her enviable boss energy at full tilt. “Holding in there?”
