“I’ve already got his drinks. You’re so nice to try to help me out though.” I’m still smiling at her like my life depends on it as I slide the tray off the bar where Pete set the drinks.
She sniffs. “Oh.”
That little sneak. Thought she could snag my best customer.
Cade is sitting in my section, so she should know better. But she’s new. She’s been working here less than a month.
I should cut her some slack, but I don’t feel like it.
It’s still early in the evening, so we’re not very busy yet. Besides Cade, I only have one other table waiting. Four militiamen. I’d know who they are even without recognizing their faces.
Militiamen all have the same look.
“Hi,” I say as I set the glasses down at Cade’s small table. “We have venison stew tonight. Or ham, potatoes, and carrots if you’d prefer a plate.”
Every evening, we serve two dinner options. The plate is more expensive than the stew.
Cade is big with unkempt brown hair and a beard. His eyes are a striking silver green. He’s dressed like a lot of the men who’ve been scrabbling out a life in the woods on their own or with their family—worn jeans, a faded flannel shirt, and a hunting knife on his belt. He carries a shotgun, but he had to leave it at the door like everyone else when Nell let him in.
He eyes me soberly and shakes his head.
“Stew then. I’ll have it out in just a minute. I need to get drinks for them first, or they’ll make a fuss.”
I nod toward the table of militiamen with the slightest gesture of my head, but he knows what I mean. I can see it on his face. Everyone knows how pushy and entitled members of the militia have become since they took over this region.
He nods intentionally, as if to sayno hurry, and wraps his fingers around his glass of beer.
“Thanks.” I smile at him again before I brace myself for the other table.
We always had a militia group in this area, but it used to be small and isolated—just a bunch of weirdos living in their compound in the hills. But even before Impact, scared of the chaos breaking out around the world, a lot of people started to join them. Soon they’d grown large enough to swallow up the nearest town.
Eight months ago, they made synchronized moves on all the other towns in the county. No one was prepared, and the small community leaders folded one after another. So now the militia is in control of the region. Even Nell, whose power has been uncontestable since Impact, has to give a certain number of their members free entry to the Pub each month.
I hate them.
But I hate most men and a lot of women nowadays.
“Howdy, boys,” I tell the table of militiamen with my best fake smile. “What can I get you this evening?”
Because cash currency has been worthless for more than a year, the price of entry into the Pub is paid in food, supplies, or provisions. Nell herself sits on a stool near the door, flanked by Rick and Trevor, and negotiates a fair price for spending an evening in the pub, which includes a meal (either stew or a pricier plate) and two drinks. A fuck requires more payment to the house plus a tip for the server.
Most people in the area can’t afford a visit to the Pub more than twice a year, but every single night, there’s a line waiting to get in.
Two of the militiamen in my section have paid for a fuck—they have the tag folded into their pocket displaying they paid extra. I could do both and get double the tips. I’ve done it before (one after the other, not at the same time), but that makes for a particularly hard night.
I’ve been doing fine lately with tips. I don’t need extra.
Besides, Cade is still here, nursing his last two swallows of whiskey. His eyes follow me everywhere. I can feel them even when my back is turned. So I can’t help but wonder if maybe he wants to be my fuck tonight.
He doesn’t have a tag, so he’s clearly not planning on it. But maybe…
I have no way of knowing what he’s like in bed, but he’s always been generous with tips, and he’s never demeaned me like so many others. Last month, after the third time I had to tell a guy he wasn’t allowed to rub up against me unless he pays for a fuck, Cade stopped on his way out to punch the guy so hard it knocked him out.
Doing this kind of job, you learn quick to tell the good ones from the bad ones, and I have a good feeling about Cade.
I don’t think he’d treat me bad in bed.
And I’d much rather fuck him than another militiaman.
