Sexting My Ex’s Dad (Forbidden Silver Foxes)

8. Stella

8

STELLA

A s I wipe down the counter with a tattered cloth, it’s hard to believe that it’s already been a week since I started this job. I’ve come to know some of the regulars, their favorite drinks, and even some of the stories that they like to tell over and over again. I know exactly what to say to line my pockets with cash by the end of the night.

The once-intimidating environment now feels more like a refuge, a place where I can temporarily forget the mounting bills waiting for me at home.

Strangely enough, I kind of enjoy it. Not that I would ever admit that.

“Hey Stella,” a familiar voice calls out from the dimly lit corner. Dave, one of the cooks, winks at me with a smile. “You’re doing great, girl.”

“Thanks, Dave,” I reply, warmth spreading through my chest as I realize how far I’ve come in just one week.

As the night wears on, the bar fills with an eclectic mix of patrons. Most are polite and friendly, while others seem keen on pushing boundaries. I’ve learned to navigate these waters with grace and firmness, but there’s always one who manages to catch me off guard.

“Excuse me, beautiful,” slurs a man with bloodshot eyes, leaning heavily against the counter. His breath reeks of cheap booze and stale cigarettes. “Can I get another drink?”

“Of course,” I say, trying to hide my discomfort behind a professional smile. I pour him his requested whiskey, setting it down gently in front of him.

“Such delicate hands,” he murmurs, reaching out to grab my wrist. His touch sends a shiver up my spine, but not in a good way, my heart beginning to pound in my chest. I jerk away, feeling flushed and uneasy.

“Don’t touch me,” I say, my voice wavering slightly despite my best efforts to keep it steady.

“Aw, don’t be like that,” he whines, leering at me with a predatory grin. “You’re too pretty to be such a prude.”

Prude? More like I wouldn’t be paid to be touched by you.

I quicken myself with a quick remark, but it dies on my tongue. I can’t be inappropriate. I could lose my job, and that’s something I can’t afford.

“Yep, that’s it. It’s time for you to go.” I look up, as one of the security guards approach, letting out a breath I didn’t know I was holding.

I was saved.

They grab him by the arms and begin to escort him out of the bar, his protests loud and slurred.

“Hey! You can’t do this to me!” he shouts, struggling against their grip. “I’m a paying customer!”

“Touching the staff isn’t part of the deal,” one of the guards retorts, tightening his hold on the man’s arm.

As they haul him away, I feel my legs give way beneath me, trembling with the residual effects of adrenaline. My hands shake as I clutch the edge of the counter for support, my thoughts a chaotic whirlwind.

This had never happened before. Just as I’d started to like this job…

“Stella, are you all right?” Isobel asks, concern etched in her features. She places a comforting hand on my shoulder, and I lean into her touch.

“I... I think so,” I stammer, fighting back the tears that threaten to spill over. “I just... didn’t expect that.”

“Of course not,” she soothes, her voice a balm to my frayed nerves. “Take a moment, breathe. Things like that don’t happen all of the time, but they do happen. You’re acting a lot better than I did the first time.”

“It happened to you too?”

Isobel scoffs. “Honey, these men are grimy. I don’t know one girl it hasn’t happened to.”

Strangely enough that makes me feel better. I smile. “And what did you do?”

“Kneed him right in the balls.” My jaw drops. I never would have expected that from sweet Isobel and by the smile on her face, she’d been proud of herself. “Marnie had to have a long conversation with me about how I couldn’t maime the patrons and security would escort them out.”

I can’t stop myself from laughing and shaking my head. “You are awesome. I’m happy you weren’t fired.”

“Me too.” She shakes my shoulder gently. “You’ll be okay. Besides, every job has its growing pains.”

I nod my head. I do have to agree with her there. These are just a little different from others.

“You know what will make you feel better?”

“What?”

Isobel reaches into her pocket and pulls out an envelope.

I frown. “An envelope will make me feel better?”

“What’s inside of it will.” She thrusts it into my hands. “Your first check.”

I make so much money just off of tips that I hadn’t considered I’d get an actual check, not a big one anyways.

The white envelope feels heavy in my hand. I glance over at Isobel, who nods in encouragement, her eyes reflecting the excitement bubbling within me. I slide my finger beneath the sealed flap, tearing it open.

My heart skips a beat as my eyes land on the amount printed in bold black ink. Nearly four thousand dollars – and this is just one week’s pay. The number seems too big, too surreal to be true. My hands tremble, and I feel the breath catch in my throat.

“Wow,” I whisper, feeling dizzy with disbelief. “Is this... is this really how much I made?”

“Looks like it,” Isobel confirms, grinning at my astonishment. “Not too shabby for your first week, huh?”

“Definitely not,” I agree, my mind racing with the possibilities. I’ve never made this much money in my life with just one paycheck.

It’s settled. I’m never leaving this job.

“See, it’s worth it,” Isobel teases. “Welcome to the world of adult entertainment, where dreams come true and clothes come off,” she says with a playful wink, her words laced with light-hearted humor.

“Who knew?” I shake my head, a genuine smile gracing my lips for the first time in what feels like an eternity.

I should’ve taken this job years ago. This is far better job security than Owen ever was.

I wish he was here right now, so I could rub it in his face.