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Part of me wanted to walk out and never return. The thought of walking around the floor and serving drinks mostly naked nauseated me. But the other part of me—the part that wanted to eat and maybe one day have her own place—knew Kennedy was right.
I didn’t have a choice.
After dressing in the locker room, I went to work, struggling not to cover myself as I worked. Instead, I tried to hide behind my tray as much as possible without spilling my drinks.
Two hours later, I had almost forgotten what I was wearing. We were swamped, and the customers kept coming. The sounds of slots filled the room. Drink orders were being shouted, and I was moving as fast as I could, making sure the drinks were served, and the customers were happy.
It was the group of men at table seven that reminded me I was working half naked.
“Damn, baby, you have an amazing body,” the tallest of the group said as I set their drinks on the table.
I knew he was the tallest because even though they were sitting, his head was still at least a foot higher than the others.
I didn’t respond to his compliment.
Instead, I smiled and nodded, remembering how visible my nakedness was and wondering if the new uniform had anything to do with the massive tips I had been getting over the past couple of hours.
Reaching across the table, I cleared the empty bottles, piling them on top of my tray to make room for the new drinks.
“You guys need anything else?” I asked.
They all burst into laughter, making me stiffen with discomfort.
“Oh, yeah. Looking at your uniform is giving me all kinds of needs,” another guy at the table said through his laughter.
Quickly, I turned, ready to flee their gawking eyes and lewd comments, but instead of walking away, I walked straight into a warm, broad masculine chest.
The smell of his cologne filled my senses, making me dizzy with delight. His large hand wrapped around the top of my arm to keep me steady, and I shivered at his touch.
“Gentlemen,” he muttered above my head to the men at table seven behind me. “A little respect goes a long way. Treat the waitresses here at Empire Sevens with any disrespect, and I’ll make sure you never step foot in my establishment again.”
I stood there, face to face with his massive chest as I listened to the conversation they had around me.
“Sorry, Mr. Hale, we were just fucking around.”
I wasn’t sure who spoke to Zander, but it was apparent I wouldn’t have to worry about the men at table seven again.
The rest of the night followed the flow.
Men hitting on me.
Talking about my body.
Making me feel like a piece of meat on display.
Several times, I considered walking out. Once, I went to the back door and thought about fleeing back to Kennedy’s condo to take a breather, but I didn’t.
I held my head high, and I did my job. I needed the paycheck, and I wasn’t about to be the one woman to complain even if I already had to Kennedy.
It was Vegas.
That was what Kennedy told me.
And she was right.
Vegas was gaudy and sexual. It was sinful and dark. And if I wanted to be a part of the town and work in its industries, I had to do just that. Even if it was against my morals a tiny bit.
I was a beggar.
