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list of names and numbers on a card in her purse. They were
all programmed into her phone too, but just in case she ever
lost it, she was prepared with backup.
This wasn’t the first party she’d waitressed. She found the
bachelor parties and other Vegas style drunk fests to be wild
and uncontrolled. She hated every minute of it, but she was
shocked at how good the tips were. It surpassed even her
expectations. She’d seen other girls go further. Barb—not her
real name of course—took a guy into the bathroom in a hotel
penthouse suite a few nights before and did things for extra
cash. Cassia absolutely didn’t judge her. How could she have
made peace with all the things her father did every day and
still think that things like strip clubs were wrong on some
level?
“Cassia?” Stu’s voice soothed Cassia’s throbbing temples.
“Stu.” She exhaled loudly and sipped at her drink. “I’ve
been waiting here for Jim M. for an hour. I don’t think he’s
coming.”
“Bastard,” Stu swore. “Sorry you got stood up on your first
try as a companion. You okay?”
“Yeah. I’m okay.”
“They know the rules. We make them sign off on a contract
of sorts ahead of time. I have his credit card number. He
knows that no-shows are charged for your time and the effort
to be there and for the fact that we could have booked you
somewhere else. You get thirty percent of the fee we take.”
“Oh. Uh, thanks.”
“Do you need one of the guys to pick you up?”
Cassia wanted to say yes, since it would mean a free ride
back to her apartment, but she found herself shaking her head,
