“Aleksy, I need you over at table four.”
Aleks glanced at his boss, who looked cool as a cucumber even though the damned air conditioning had gone out the day before and no one had been around to fix it. He supposed the heat made them all gleam a little more, made them look oiled and sexy.
He just hoped to hell he didn’t stink.
“Why’s that?” he asked. He had a gaggle of ladies at table six who wanted him to hang around for bottle service and musical grinding. They looked to be a huge tip, so he hated to abandon them.
“Special request.” Katia curled her lip at him, a hint of happy revenge in her expression. He had turned her down after she hired him, and while she’d taken it gracefully, she liked to put him in the most uncomfortable situations she could.
Hence taking him away from a great guaranteed tip and giving him to a private table that could only seat two, at best.
Sergy sighed, but nodded. He liked his job at Faster Bobcat, and he had no to lose it by being petulant. The place was classy and the ladies rarely got grabby hands. He made some of the best money in Vegas off the strip. His boss wasn’t bitchy, but she could be a little grumpy once in a while.
He dropped off the bottle and introduced Carlo, who would take his place at the table. “Sorry, ladies,” he replied to the good-natured chorus of negatives. “Duty calls. Carlo will take good care of you.”
Then he squared his shoulders, made sure his tiny shorts covered his junk, and headed for table four.
The shadowy form sitting in the deeply recessed booth resolved itself into a strikingly handsome man with shaggy black hair and bright green eyes. Dressed in an impeccable silk shirt and gabardine trousers, the long, well-made body made Aleksy’s belly tighten. Pretty.
His boss thought he’d turned her down because she wasn’t pretty enough or something, so she was punishing him with a male client. Thing was, Aleksy had turned her down because he was queer, so this wasn’t punishment at all.
copyright 2014 Julia Talbot