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PART ONE:
Savannah
1
Hishandcomesdownwith a thwack on my ass cheeks as he growls in my ear, “Yeah, just like that baby girl.”
Men.
My mother always told me men are creatures who like to take. They are reckless with their belongings and unbothered by the consequences of their actions so long as they are satisfied. They will crash a car, straighten up, run their hands through their hair and plaster on a smile for the next car they already had their eyes on.
I fight the urge to roll my eyes even though he can’t see my face. I continue to gyrate my hips against his evident bulge and lose myself in the R&B track playing through the speakers. A bead of sweat trickles down my back as my body moves like fluid to the rhythm of the music.
When I feel his hands slide up my back before attempting to grope my breasts, I turn around and give him a playful smile.
“I don’t think so. This is notthatkind of service.”
His thin lips curl into a smirk that makes my skin crawl. “Oh, come on. I’m sure a girl like you has gone too far with a customer once or twice.”
I should punch him square in the face, but I need some tip money, so I plaster on a teasing smile. “I could get fired.”
His eyes haven’t moved from my bedazzled bra since I turned around. Every word has been directed at my breasts, and it’s starting to piss me off. His index finger runs down my torso, stopping just above the waistband of my matching underwear. “They won’t fire you, baby girl.” He leans forward so his lips are at my ears. “They always need whores to entertain.”
My smile doesn’t waver. “How does your wife feel about you being here amongst the whores?”
The arrogance laced in his eyes is a tell-tale my guess was correct. “What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.”
As my mother said, men are creatures that like to take.
“Let me guess, she’s the perfect housewife who stays home to raise your children. She’s probably at home adding the final touches to her cookies while your dinner finishes cooking.”
His hands slide up my thighs before grabbing my ass cheeks. “She doesn’t have a thing on you.”
“You might want to be careful because a womanalwaysknows. After spending her entire life slaving in the kitchen to cater for you, she can smell apiga long mile away.“ I push his hands off my body and climb off his lap. I stare down at him as he sits there with a pissed-off glare. “I hope you were satisfied with my service.”
“Chris is pissed at you,” Mia says before I can tie my apron.
I ignore her glare, pulling my hair into a topknot and tying my apron. The pungent smell of coffee wafts through the air, masking the scent of freshly baked goods.
This morning is tranquil, with only four of the tables being occupied.EspresSoulis an indie café in Central London, preying on those who can’t function without their daily dose of caffeine. The eclectic décor stands out against the bougie competitors around us. While they have anInstagram-ableaesthetic, this place has multi-coloured walls and mismatched furniture that isn’t easy on the eyes. Nevertheless, it has proven to be successful.
“Sav, are you listening to me?”
“Yeah, Chris is pissed. So what? I don’t regret what I said. I only warned him that his wife knows he’s a scumbag pig.”
Mia leans against the counter while I serve a customer. As soon as she walks away with her croissant, Mia starts again.
“This is your third warning. He’s going to fire you,” she warns.
“So? I’ll find another strip club.”
“He’s pissed at me too, you know?”
I look at my friend and feel slightly guilty. Her green eyes stare at me with worry as I try to muster up words of reassurance. I would tell her we can both find somewhere new to dance, but with her medium height and slightly curvier build, not everyone will take her on.
“I’ll have a word with him. I’ll tell him last night had nothing to do with you.”
She rolls her eyes at me. “I was the one that recommended you, so you reflect on me. Stop acting like a bitch to your customers.”
