Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 111685 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 558(@200wpm)___ 447(@250wpm)___ 372(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111685 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 558(@200wpm)___ 447(@250wpm)___ 372(@300wpm)
I relaxed slightly then.
I liked Cammie. She was one of those types of girls who’s beautiful in a natural way, but not flashy. Mia was flashy. She could’ve been on a runway for Victoria’s Secret, but Cammie was just as beautiful, just in a more understated way. She was also one of the lead workers for the Quail. Most of the regulars had a crush on her with her caramel-colored curls, freckles, and bright sapphire blue eyes. And I didn’t think they were alone. She had a boyfriend at another college, but I had a feeling the moment she was single, Joe himself would be throwing his hat in the ring. He tended to blush when she was around, and get all grrr if a regular was too touchy-feely with her. The bouncers were protective of her, too. They were protective of all the girls, but it was more with Cammie. She was kinda the Quail’s sweetheart, and when she worked, all eyes were on her, or most eyes, and I liked that. I really liked that. Helped me stay under the radar even with the guys coming to eat here now that I was working here, too.
“I’m hoping to talk Joe into letting us work the boxes. They tip way better than the beer stand.”
“That’s where we’d be going?”
She nodded, helping carry out a few bags to the van. I took one and followed behind.
She said over her shoulder, “Yeah. All the hoity-toity people are up in the boxes. They give a twenty-dollar tip for us refilling a beer. Such easy money. We’d be lucky to get twenty for the whole night in the beer stand.”
See. Smart and nice. Not many others would bring me along for that type of job.
“Thanks, Cammie.” I handed off my bag to Jer, who was waiting by the van.
He tossed it in, then said to me, “You’re in your blacks tonight.”
Blacks meant we were wearing the Quail’s more formal uniform. Black skirt. White button-down shirt. They resembled a private school uniform, something I’m sure was the point.
Cammie heard. “Serious?”
He nodded. “You ain’t working the beer stands. Joe’s already ahead of you.”
“Nice!” She held her hand up, giving him a high five and turning to me. A wide smile on her face. “Tips for two weeks here we come.” Her grin turned slightly goofy at me. “And thank God he’s sending you. I don’t think I could do a full night in the box with Moore.”
If Cammie was the sweetheart of the Quail, Moore was the opposite. Catty. Bitchy. Jealous. She was all of those things, and I’d been able to mostly avoid her, but I knew that time was coming to an end. I heard she had a mission to get into Dent’s pants, and it was only a matter of time before she figured out how I knew them. So far she just thought one of them had a crush on me, that was the reason they kept coming when I was on shift.
“Okay, girls.” Jer shut the door, going around to the driver’s side. “Grab your uniforms. We gotta go. Boss wants us in the boxes before the ticketholders get there.”
The game was in an hour.
We needed to curtail it out of there, but after changing in the back, Cammie grabbed me. “Sit.” She went to work on me then.
“What are you doing?”
“Sex brings more tips. If you and I both look sexy, that means more money.”
She was loosening my shirt. Nothing was showing, but there was a good swell of cleavage showing. She stepped back, studying me, frowning. Her hands went to my hair and she was redoing the ponytail I’d put it in for the night. Going around me, I was slightly impressed at how quick she worked. Not a lot of girls were braid-savvy, but she had put my blue hair in a loose, reverse French braid. It was meant to look sexily rumpled, and when I saw my reflection in the mirror, I almost whistled to myself.
“Damn. You could do hair for a living.”
She grinned, sitting next to me and tugging on a different pair of shoes. “I’ve got six little sisters and a single mom who works three jobs. Hair duty was like an assembly line in the mornings before school.” She finished, standing up and smoothing out her skirt. “Ready to go and make some moolah?”
God, was I.
Going over, Jer pulled up to the stadium, and we were waved in to go toward the back employee parking area. A bunch of buses were back there, too. Hopping out, Jer told us, “Hold up.” He opened the back door. “I need help carrying all this inside.”
It took six different trips, maneuvering through all the people, even going through the back way and I was sweating up a storm. So was Cammie. She flashed me a smile once we were done, wiping some sweat from her forehead. “There’s a bathroom up there we can use to clean up a bit.”