CHAPTER 2

"Can you hurry the hell up?" John hisses.

"I have literally one table waiting on their drinks," I point out to my boss. "So what, exactly, am I hurrying for?"

"Probably because you were late..."

"Seven minutes late," I interrupt.

"So now everything is backed up. Maybe I should have let Laury take your tables like she asked to."

I look across the dining room at Laury, and she gives me a small smile. She hates this job as much as I do, so I know if she offered to handle my tables, it was only because she was trying to diffuse John threatening to fire me, again. Because we both need this job. Her to pay for school, me to pay for, well, everything. John is an asshole, but the pay is good, and the tips are great. The people who come here aren't too bad either. So, it's mostly just John that makes us hate it. It's like he wants to make sure we suffer as much as possible for every dollar we make an hour.

"Here we go," I say as I reach table twelve. I smile at the people while I put down their coffees, lattes, cups of teas, muffins, and donuts before asking, "Anything else you need right now?"

"Nothing. Thanks," one of the women answers.

"I'll be back around in a few."

I begin to walk back toward the kitchen, but finding John watching me, a scowl on his face, I turn toward where one of my tables just emptied instead. Is it my job to clear the dishes away? No, but I'll gladly do it if it keeps me away from John. Because when he's not scowling, he's leering. I prefer the scowl but am in no mood to deal with it right now.

Bringing the heavy bucket of dishes to the hot kitchen, the card seems to burn in my pocket, begging me to use it. I’d looked at it almost my entire break an hour ago. Nothing but a number and first name on it, not telling me much more than I learned in the elevator. I'd turned it over again and again, as if new words would appear on it the more I did it. But no, it remained the same. Lawson, and ten digits. That's all.

Even as I convinced myself all over again that I cannot possibly accept his offer, I’d still pulled out my phone in the booth I sat in and searched for a hotel. Not any hotel I could afford either. No, the ones I could probably never afford to stay in. It would be a test of sorts... If he could truly afford to give me the amount of money he'd offered, then he would certainly be able to afford a hotel that charges $884 for a night. But that’s if I were going to text him…which I’m not.

Much like Law, though, I can't get the room out of my head now. The pictures of rooms with large beds, balconies overlooking the city, bathtubs that could fit four... or just me and Law. I almost scoff. That man wants to do anything but sit around in a bathtub with me. Maybe fuck me in it, but not sit in a bunch of bubbles. My mind is sure to show me images of all the places he could fuck me in the room, though. Right in the center of that huge bed. Bent over the couch. On the balcony, all the people below us able to hear my screams.

But... who says I'll be screaming at all? Or moaning? Or gasping? The sex could be horrible for all I know. But my mind and my body tell me that's a lie. He exudes sex appeal, lust, desire. Everything from his eyes, to his smile, to the way he took off his damn jacket tells me I would leave that hotel room satisfied. But I'm not going, even though every single part of me is curious about what it would feel like to be under him, above him, hismouth on me, my mouth on him. A shudder rushes through me at the visions flooding me.

"I want to be wherever your mind is taking you right now." I hear Laury laugh behind me. "It looks like a damn good place."

"Any place is better than here." I sigh as I turn around to face her. "Thanks for offering to cover my tables earlier."

She winks. "You know I got you. How's our girl?"

"Same, which I guess is a good thing."

"Did you hear back from that charity you said the hospital has?"

"Heard from them this morning. They said they only cover up to $5,000."

"Which wouldn't even put a dent in the cost of everything."

"Exactly. Ka tried to hide her disappointment when I told her, but it was easy to see since I felt the same."

"Well, I got seven hundred in tips last week. I know it isn't much, but..."

"I appreciate every single cent, although I don't think I'll ever stop feeling bad for taking your money."

"Oh, stop it. I may not have known you guys long, but I know you both well enough to know you deserve the help, and Ka deserves a kidney."

We all met in college a year ago. Kamila works, or worked, in the admissions office, until those douchebags let her go when she started missing work too often because of her illness. I was going there for graphic design and Laury for hospitality. When me and Kamila moved here for her job, and me switching schools to stay with her, we’d come to this diner for dinner most nights, and met Laury. It was easy for me and Kamila to become fast friends with her. She's funny as hell, has a sarcasticcomeback for everything, and a heart of gold under all the wit. She helped me get the job here, knowing I could really use the tips, and that the bills were now my sole responsibility, and has been giving me her tips ever since she'd learned that the hospital was demanding payment before they'd put Kamila on the transplant list.

I wish I had the option not to take her money, but I have no other... Wait, don't I? I look at Laury out the corner of my eye. I know I can talk to her about Law and everything that happened in the elevator, that she won't judge in the least. But how the hell do you even start a conversation about that?

"So say, hypothetically..." I begin.

She chuckles. "Which means it isn't hypothetical at all. Go on."

I narrow my eyes at her, and she just smiles. "Say there was a man offering you a shit ton of money, I'm talking enough to pay for the surgery, the bills, move, maybe even go back to school."

"I'm sold."

"I didn't even say what you would have to do for it yet."

"I don't give a shit. He wants me to let him lick my feet, sure. He wants me to lick him from head to toe, done. Shit, he wants me to lick his balls right after he gets back from the gym, I'm on my knees."

"Eww, Laury, that's disgusting."

"And absolutely something I would do if it got me the money to take care of myself and the people I love."

"Wouldn't it be... shameful? To take someone's money to do, really anything with them?"

"Why shameful?" She furrows her brows. "You and whoever this hypothetical man is are two consenting adults. You'redoing something you wanna do... You do wanna do it, right? Otherwise, you wouldn't be asking me."

"I definitely want to do it."