Chapter 4

Samara~

"A thousand dollars to wrap those gorgeous legs around my waist, darlin'."

Ignoring the asshole, I leaned over to pick up the empty glasses off the table, and I constantly had to remind myself that I had voluntarily signed up for this. While Huckabee's was considered upscale and the clientele were usually more civilized, it was still a bar, and you still got drunk assholes that liked to believe that their money could buy them anything. Sadly, that was often the case, but not with me. If I slept with a man, then it was because I was actually interested or attracted to him. While it was none of my business what other women did, I didn't sleep with men for money, though tempting as it may be.

In all actuality, I was a bit of a hypocrite in that regard if I was being honest. After all, I worked in a place that made their waitresses wear skirts too short to cover their asses and shirts that showcased miles and miles of cleavage if you had an ample chest, which I did. In my work outfit, my curves made me look like a pin-up centerfold, and every time that I put on my uniform, my self-respect wisely kept its mouth shut because the tips that I made helped to keep me and Masha fed. So, while I might not be screwing guys for money, I was giving them an eyeful for it, so I really had no room to talk.

"With a body like that, I bet she could take on all three of us," the second guy drawled out like a sleaze. "Talk about a fucking playground of tits and ass."

Choosing to ignore him as well, I asked, "Would you like another round of drinks?'

"Yes, please," the third guy answered, and I wasn't sure if he had tacked on the please to make up for his dipshit friends, but I still appreciated it.

"Not a problem."

I turned to leave, but then the first guy reached out to grab my knee. "Whoa, wait," he said, chuckling. "How about three thousand? One thousand for each one of us."

"Let go of my leg," I ordered. "Now."

"Oooh, feisty," he said as he winked at me, though he did let go of my leg. "I like a woman with a little fire in her."

Ignoring him once again, I glanced at all three men. "I'll be back with your drinks."

Turning from the table, I bit my lip, doing my best to keep myself from getting fired. Most nights, I was able to ignore the entitlement that went on in this place, but on the nights that I couldn't ignore it, it was everything that I could do to keep from losing my job. I constantly had to remind myself that I chose to work here, and I'd made that choice with all the facts in hand at the time. I'd known what this place was like, and I'd chosen to work here anyway because it paid better than most jobs. Plus, cash tips always came in handy for last-minute emergencies.

"Is it just me, or are these idiots more aggressive tonight than usual?" Laurel Ming asked as she saddled up next to me at the bar.

"No, it's not just you," I assured her. "I just got offered three thousand dollars to engage in a foursome."

"Tell those cheap bastards that you could easily get triple that amount with that body of yours," she snorted.

Despite the distasteful topic, I still grinned. "I'm going to take that as a compliment."

Laurel grinned back. "It was. I'd kill for your figure."

Laurel was Asian, petite, and gorgeous. She had an ethereal femininity about her, and it drove the men here crazy. Little did they know that she was a Tae Kwon Do expert and could kick most of their asses. Laurel might play nice and smile for her tips just like the rest of us, but she wasn't afraid to defend herself if needed.

"Well, douchebag rich doesn't do it for me, so I'll just stick with serving them drinks," I muttered.

After telling the bartender, Chris, her order, she said, "It really is a shame that respectable jobs don't pay as well as these kinds. If they did, I'd be out of here."

"I think most of us would be," I agreed. "However, if it was just about our wages, then I'd be working at the first fast food or retail store that was hiring. It's everything else that weighs me down. Since Huckabee's doesn't offer full-time with benefits for their cocktail waitresses, I have to pay for my own health insurance and make sure that I have enough saved to cover the bills for if I ever have to call in sick. Masha is in the same boat at the diner, and it just…" I let out a tired sigh as Chris began placing my table's drinks on my tray. "It just feels like the system is rigged, so that the working class never get ahead."

"It feels that way because it is that way," Laurel replied blandly. "Honestly, I used to judge gold-diggers, but after working here for so long, I feel like the stupid one now."

That got a laugh out of me. "Well, we could always become cam girls."

Laurel grinned. "Yes, we could."

Grabbing my tray, I turned from the bar, then braced myself to take the drinks back to douchebag central before checking on my other tables. Honestly, I didn't want to feel ungrateful for my job, because I wasn't. I was thankful for every dollar that this place earned me, but I wasn't thankful for what I had to endure to earn those dollars. Of course, not all of our patrons were disrespectful assholes, but a lot of them were, and it only took one arrogant jackhole to ruin your night.

When I approached the table again, the second guy had one of the other cocktail waitresses on his lap, and when she shot me a catty look, I wanted to scream. Nessa Walter was a stunning redhead that was as confident as an Olympic athlete. She had an Irish complexion, a siren's body, and she oozed sex appeal with every word out of her mouth. It was said that she raked in thousands during her shifts, and I believed it.

Nonetheless, she was the most disliked person here because she was known to steal tips, but not by taking the cash right off the table. No, she was more calculating than that. Instead of doing anything that could be considered illegal by management's standards, she did crap like she was doing now. Somehow, she had assessed what was happening at my table, and she'd decided to swoop in and get what she could out of these three men.

Ignoring Nessa, I said, "Here you go, gentlemen."

"It's such a shame that you aren't as friendly as your co-worker," the first guy said. "She knows how to play nice."

"Well, I have other tables to tend to, so I'll be back to check on you later," I told the table, not bothering to address Nessa's ‘friendliness'.

"Thank you," the third guy replied, and his polite demeanor really had me wondering what he was doing with these two dipships.

"Actually, how about you just close out our tab," the first guy remarked. "I think we prefer to sit in the more friendly section of the bar."

I plastered a fake smile on my face before saying, "Of course."

Gritting my teeth, I walked back to the bar, then asked Chris for the table's total bill. After printing me out a receipt copy, plus a copy of what the bill would be split three ways, I headed back to the table, plastering that damn fake smile on my face again.

"I have a single bill, but also a copy of the total split three ways," I informed them. "How would you like to pay?"

"One bill," the first guy said, and my stomach immediately tightened with anger. He was going to make me pay for rejecting him, though this wouldn't be the first time that something like this had happened to me here.

I smiled as I handed him the receipt for the total, and instead of paying with a card like most the patrons here did, he handed me two one-hundred-dollar bills on a total of one-hundred and ninety-eight dollars and thirty-four cents.

His blue eyes twinkled with malicious glee as he said, "Thanks for everything, darlin'."

"You're welcome," I replied like anger wasn't sliding down my spine. "I hope you enjoy the rest of your evening."

As the other two stood up, the second guy slid his hand over Nessa's left breast before saying, "Oh, we intend to."

Nessa let out a lyrical laugh as she let the guys guide her from the table, and instead of bashing her head in with my tray, I ignored them all, then started cleaning up the last round of empty glasses. I had waited on this table long enough for them to acquire a two-hundred-dollar bill, and Nessa was going to end up getting my tip because I didn't fuck random guys for money.

When I turned to head back to the bar, I almost ran smack dab into the third guy. I placed my hand on my chest, trying to catch my breath, surprised that I'd hadn't heard him coming up behind me.

Staring up at him, I asked, "Is everything okay?"

"I just wanted you to know that not all of us are assholes," he said before placing some money on my tray, then walking away and back over towards his friends.

I looked down at my tray, and my heart thumped at the three twenty-dollar bills.