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Paisley
I’M JUST FINISHING up serving the second round of drinks to a table of guys about my age when Vi flags me down from her spot at the edge of the main floor. The owner of Platinum has never been anything but kind, but she still intimidates the hell out of me. Maybe it’s the closely cropped line of her spiky bleach blonde hair. Maybe it’s the slim-cut suits she always wears without a shirt, even in the middle of winter.
Or maybe it’s the way she carries herself, like she can handle anything that comes her way.
Which might be true. I’ve seen her help the bouncers throw out men three times her size.
In heels.
I weave my way in her direction, barely managing to dodge one guy’s attempt at grabbing my ass as I cut through the crowd. I shoot him a warning look that hopefully doesn’t look too bitchy.
I don’t want them grabbing me, but I still want a decent tip. It’s a line I walk every shift.
But tonight it’s been harder than normal.
I force on a smile as I reach Vi’s side. “Do you need something?” I try my best to be a good employee for her, because she treats all of us well, even those of us who aren’t super great at the flirting generally required by our positions.
Which is pretty much just me.
Vi snags the tray from my hand. “You’ve got a request in the VIP rooms upstairs.”
It’s not a huge surprise. I serve upstairs pretty regularly, but it’s never men requesting my presence, it’s the girls dancing for them.
I’m the plainest, and most awkward, server here. I offer very little competition for the bills filling a guy’s wallet, and they know if I’m the server then they’ll be the one getting the majority of the tips.
Which is fine. I’m not sure I could do what they do, even though I’m seriously considering trying.
“Okay.” I reach for one of the smaller trays stacked at the end of the bar. The private rooms are for the bigger spenders, and everything we use up there is higher-end than what goes out onto the main floor. From the glasses to the liquor that fills them, it’s all top shelf.
“You won’t need that.” Vi puts her hand on the tray, stopping me from taking it. “You’re not serving.”
I stand there for a second, trying to process what the alternative would be. “Am I cleaning up a room?”
We have bussers, but occasionally they get overwhelmed and the servers have to help out. It’s not my favorite part of the job, but it’s still better money than my day job, so I’m not going to complain.
Vi shakes her head. “Your company has been requested.”
I’m sure I didn’t hear that right. “By who?”
Vi’s lips lift at the corners. “I wouldn’t ask too many questions.” Her eyes skim down my uniform. “You have anything else to change into?”
I smooth one hand down the front of the black cheeky pleather shorts and corset that don’t leave much room for breathing.
Or panties. I feel a little like I’m going to a Renaissance themed S&M club, but the men who come here seem to love it.
“No.” It wouldn’t matter if I did have other clothes here. This is the sexiest outfit I own. By far.
“I guess you’ll just have to make it work then.” She steps closer, loosening the top buttons of the crisp white shirt layered under the confines of the corset, pulling the two sides apart to expose as much skin as possible.
I’m struggling to swallow. “I don’t understand—”
Vi rests her hands on my shoulders and lines her ice blue eyes up with mine. “Listen to me.” She leans closer. “Smart women rule the world.” Her mouth lifts in a slow smile. “It’s time to go be a smart woman.”
I glance toward the stairs leading to the VIP section reserved for only the most exclusive visitors.
Exclusive, meaning rich.
I might have lost out on the chance to make the kind of money I need to help my mother, but maybe I can make enough to keep her more comfortable.
