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“Are you running a brothel?”
A barking laugh escapes me before I can hold it back.
“No. Just a bar,” I lie smoothly.
“A bar that stays open all night and pays more for one shift than the starting salaries of many professionals?”
“We like our clients to be happy. Happy staff means happy clients. You should ask about our bonuses and benefits.”
“You offer benefits on top of this?” She gapes at me in disbelief. Hmm, maybe that was a step too far.
“We do. But of course, you’d be applying for a temporary, seasonal position so you probably wouldn’t qualify for much.”
“How long does a seasonal position last?”
“Until early in the new year. So, a couple of weeks now. We hired most of our seasonal staff last month. We would need you to be available to work throughout the entire holiday period, Christmas and New Year included. But we do plan to keep our best staff on. We’re always busy with holidays and events on the calendar.”
“Your...bar is open on Christmas Day?”
“Christmas night, yes. And Christmas Eve too.”
“And I’d be just...a waitress? Not a Christmas Gram or a strippergram or any other type of gram? Not a pole dancer? Because I can’t dance for sh— to save my life.”
I smirk at the way she almost swore but reined it in just in time. Maybe there’s a bit of bite to her after all.
“Just a waitress,” I promise with my fingers crossed in my lap where she can’t see them. She’s still on the fence, undecided. This offer is too good to be true, and she knows it. She’s desperate, not dumb.
“Look, I’m not offering you the job. I’m a joint business partner with another guy who oversees the day to day running of the establishment. He’ll have to see you work before he agrees to hire you. I can offer you a trial shift tomorrow night. Impress him and you’re hired.”
“Okay.” She nods slowly in agreement. She really has nothing to lose by turning up for one shift.
“You won’t get paid for the trial shift if you’re not hired at the end of the night.” Her face falls, her devastation evident. “But our staff make excellent money in tips each night, so I promise if we don’t hire you, at the end of the night when I’ve cashed upand split the tips, I’ll get yours to you somehow. Does that sound okay?”
She doesn’t meet my eye, staring down at her empty wine glass in her hands, and I’m pretty sure it’s because she’s fighting tears.
“Th-thank you,” she eventually stammers, barely in control.
“It’s fine. I’ll send you the details of where you need to come tomorrow. It’s probably best if you arrive at around ten, by then everything will be set up and in full swing, and the staff will have more time to show you around.”
“I’ve waitressed before.”
“I’m sure you have. But our clients are very specific in their demands. They pay enough for our services and everything we offer must be impeccable.”
“I understand. Is there a dress code or…?”
“A uniform will be provided for you,” I say, noting the flash of fear in her eyes. “It is included in the job and you will not be charged, even if we don’t hire you.”
She nods.
“Do you have any other questions?”
“No, thank you. I think it’s best I just see what it’s like for myself.”
“Wise.” I pause for a moment, absorbed in my thoughts and then shake my head. I don’t know if this is going to work but I have to try. “Stand up for me.”
She doesn’t hesitate, it’s like she wants to follow my instructions. “Remove your blouse. Slowly.” My words are calm, but commanding. This is a test.
“What? Why?” she gasps.
