Page 88 of The CEO's Revenge

There are only five lockers. I go to locker two, open it, shove my bag in, turn the lock, take the key out, and turn back to Greg. He’s looking me up and down critically. Not again. My disgust must have shown on my face because Greg laughs.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” he says. “I’m working out what size uniform would fit you.”

“You could just ask me,” I point out.

He grins. “I could, but it wouldn’t help much. The uniforms are pretty old. Most of the labels are washed clean.”

“Ahhh.”

Greg nods and disappears, leaving me standing there. I’m still in shock so I appreciate the little alone time to gather my thoughts, but he comes back quickly, holding up a black short skirt, a frilly little apron, and a black top that looks smaller than what I’m used to wearing.

He looks at my sneakers and winces. “They’ll have to do tonight, but for your next shift, you’ll need black stilettos. At least three inch heels, but the higher the better,” he says. He holds the clothes out to me. “I’ll wait in the hallway while you put these on. Don’t be long.”

I change quickly, wanting to make sure I don’t give Larry any reason to come looking for me while I’m undressed. The skirt is a decent enough fit, but the vest… wow, it feels as if my boobs are falling out of it. I stuff my clothes into the locker with my bag and push the key into the pocket of my skirt. Then I open the door go out.

Greg looks at me. “Not a bad guess, huh?” He smiles. “Hell, Larry always knew how to pick em.”

I frown and he quickly makes his face expressionless.

“So basically, the left hand side of the bar is table service. You’ll find some people on the right hand side want it too. You can serve them if you want to, but your priority is the tables on the left.”

He pauses his explanation for a second and hands me a notepad and pen before going on.

“They go in the pocket of your apron. Write down the orders, bring the tickets to the bar, and take the drinks to the tables. Think you can manage that?”

“I think so,” I reply sarcastically.

Greg ignores my sarcasm, and nods to top.

“Open the top two buttons,” he says.

It is already so tight and small. I frown.

He shrugs. “Totally up to you, but if you want to make decent tips, you’ll do it.”

I almost don’t, but I need money fast and so reluctantly, I open the top two buttons and show off even more cleavage.

He grins. “Perfect. Let’s go.” He turns and heads back towards the bar. He points to a door on his left. “That’s the staff toilet. Unless you have a weird fetish for bodily fluids, never ever use the customer toilets.”

“Got it,” I say, instantly deciding I would rather pee in my panties than go into the customer toilets.

Greg leads me out into the bar and opens the hatch for me to leave through.

Before I can even respond he turns away and starts serving customers.

I stand at that spot, unsure of what to do, but I don’t have long to dilly around wondering. A man spots me and beckons me over to his table. It’s on the left side of the room, so I quickly make my way over, a massive smile on my face.

Chapter Six

Amelia

“Good evening gentlemen. What can I get for you?” I ask, my notebook and pen out and ready.

The men at the table laugh.

My smile goes so wide my face is in danger of cracking.

“You’re new here, aren’t you?” one of them asks.

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