The Seduction

“Guess you’re not up to her low standards,” his friend says, laughing.

I place the last drink in front of him, slamming it hard. Beer sloshes over the sides, onto the table. I already lost any shot of a decent tip with this group, so I really don’t care.

“Hey, bitch, you spilled on me,” the jerk says as he jumps up, his hands balling into fists.

I look from the liquid that drips off the table to the nice wet spot in the center of his jeans. Then I grin. “Yeah? Maybe it’ll cool you off, lover boy.” I turn and walk away without looking back.

This night sucks and can’t end fast enough.

“Rough time?” Callie, another waitress, asks. She’s older than me and bulkier. I think she works out in her spare time. I’m not sure. I don’t know her that well. Since I split time between school and work and study when I can, I don’t have time to socialize outside of work.

I nod. “A bunch of drunk assholes over there.” I jerk my thumb in their direction.

“Want me to take the table?” she offers.

I smile at her. She’s one of the nicer people I’ve met here. “Nah. I can handle them. But thanks.”

“I feel bad. I’ve got the hot guy in black, and you’ve got the assholes.”

I shiver at the reminder. “He’s still here?” I’ve been too busy to focus on him.

“He is. And he asked about you.”

“He did?”

Callie nodded, her smile wide. “He asked if you were involved with anyone.”

I blink in total surprise. Butterflies take off inside my stomach. Though I shouldn’t, I glance over my shoulder. He’s watching me. As if he knows we’re talking about him, he raises his bottle in acknowledgment.

“See?” Callie’s voice rises in excitement for me. “He’s nothing like the immature guys who normally come in here. I bet he doesn’t even know about you and … you know.”

I’ve already confided in her. I had to during my first week, when someone called out insults and I felt the need to explain.

“Not sa

ying the words doesn’t change the fact that it happened. Sex tape. You don’t think he knows that I’m a porn star on the Internet?” I feel the disgust and self-loathing I normally keep at bay slide into me.

According to my mother, now no decent man will want anything to do with me. But who says Hot Guy is decent, a little voice inside me asks. Maybe he’s a bad boy who would be interested in someone like me. Someone who makes stupid mistakes and bad choices.

You’ve sworn off men, the more rational side of me argues. I rub at my temples.

“He’s not in college. Chances are he has no idea. Now stop being so hard on yourself.” Callie picks up the drinks Tank places on the bar and sets them on her tray.

“Tell me you’d be patting yourself on the back for a job well done if you were me?”

She laughs. “Chill. That’s all I’m saying.”

We go back to work. The night finally comes to an end. I’m the last one to finish wiping down my station and get myself together. I think I’m moving in slow motion thanks to the exhaustion seeping through me. I make sure my cell and tips are in my purse, sling it over my neck and shoulder, and start to head out.

Tank is on the phone, arguing with his girlfriend, when I wave good-bye. He winks at me and goes back to his conversation.

I walk into the parking lot. I live in the city and could take the subway, but that scares me more at this late hour than parking back here. Besides, if my parents are willing to continue to pay for the car and parking by the dorm, I’m not about to argue. The time will come when I give up the rest of the luxuries they provide, but I’m not ready. Not yet.

The humid summer air wraps itself around me, unwanted and uncomfortable. The cool breeze of my air conditioner is so close. My small BMW sits close by in a darkened corner. I wait until I reach the door before hitting unlock on the remote. A sense of unease ripples through me as I reach for the handle.

“Hey, bitch.”

And now I know why.