Page 6 of Loving Lex

Breathe.

I slowly made my way over and sat at the bar, taking the place in. A darkly lit, masculine-feeling steakhouse within Cameo’s walls, and a welcomed respite from the craziness on the other side of the door.

An older, heavyset woman, who looked like she’d probably been a knockout in her youth, came around the bar to sit next to me. She took in my conservative white sundress and fancy heels I’d chosen on purpose to look nice and now felt ridiculous in. I should have opted for a t-shirt and shorts to look like I knew how to work.

“I’m Bailey,” she said, holding out a tanned, leathery hand with a tattoo on the back I couldn’t make out.

“Shay Steele,” I said, giving her my best handshake. She didn’t look the type to appreciate the limp debutante finger squeeze, and I personally couldn’t stand that, so I went for the real deal.

“Would you like some water?” she asked, her tone sounding concerned.

I met her eyes. “Do I look like I need it?”

“You look like someone who sat outside for the last half hour working up the nerve to come in here,” she said.

I closed my eyes in mortification. Great. How many people knew this now?

When I opened them again, a glass of ice water was placed on a coaster in front of me, and Bailey was waiting patiently.

“Going out on a limb here,” she said, tapping her fingers on the scarred wood of the bar. “You’ve never even walked into this type of club, I’m guessing?”

“Not really,” I said, sipping the water.

Bailey nodded. “Tell me about your work experience.”

The job application for servers didn’t exactly require a resume, and a bachelor’s degree and lame marketing for my father’s law firm probably didn’t hold much clout here. “Mostly office work,” I said.

“So, you’ve never waited tables—at all?”

“No, but I can learn,” I said quickly.

Bailey started to get up from her stool. “Miss Steele—”

“Please,” I said, resting my hand on her arm. My voice was just above a whisper and nearly drowned out by a woman’s voice on stage, practicing at the piano. “I need a job. No one will hire me with no experience, but no one will give me the experience.” The damn tears pricked at my eyes again. “I know what I look like, but I promise I will work hard. Please give me a chance.”

Bailey blinked slowly, and the seconds ticked by like time bombs going off. She needed someone that could hit the ground running. I knew that. Wait staff probably didn’t cut their teeth in places like this.

“Are you averse to going topless?” she asked finally.

My tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth. “I—what?”

“Some do and some don’t,” she said. “In here, no, but Sizzle is more fine dining than out on the floor.” She gestured to the door. “Out there, it’s grazing food and more drinks, and there’s an outfit, but some forego the top and only wear the cameo pendant. It’s up to what the girls are comfortable with. But, to be brutally honest, drunk men are a lot more forgiving of newbie mistakes when they look like you and have a killer rack.”

I could hear my breathing in my ears over the music. “Is that my only option?” I asked.

“Sweetheart, that’s being generous,” she said softly as she patted my hand. “I can see you’re desperate, or you wouldn’t be here.” She met my eyes. “I was you once. Sort of. I get it.” She broke the gaze and gestured around her. “But I have to make sure this place and that floor out there run like well-oiled machines or I catch grief.”

I looked down at my hands. “I understand.”

“It’s not performing. They can’t touch you,” she said, as if knowing my next question. “If they do—because sometimes they’re stupid—they get warned and then get tossed. There are plenty of other boobs around theycantouch.” She slid off her stool. “You think about it,” she said, already preoccupied with her next task. “Come back at eight tonight if you’re up for it. I’ll put you with Tracy.”

She was gone and I was alone, my insides jittering like a bowl of Jell-O in an earthquake.

Topless.

Like learning to be a server wasn’t challenging enough. I blew out a slow breath, staring into my water glass.

“Is the universe in there?” said a female voice to my left, and I jumped. “Sorry.” She chuckled, gesturing with one finger to the bartender. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

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