The Werewolves #3
"Head to the bar and ask for Eli. He'll give you some drinks and tell you which tables to serve.
If you get side-tracked or a monster asks for your company, you can say yes if you want to.
But I don't want you sleeping with anyone tonight.
Not until you've learned all the opening and closing procedures.
Until then, just be polite and tell them you're new.
They'll back off. In a few days, we'll see if you're interested in the lower deck. Questions?"
A million. "No, I think I can handle it.
" And with that, Mara disappears, back down the hallway, toward the white, sterile side of the building, where they present a clean face to the public and prospective employees.
Back here, there's so much color and activity, it's hard to believe both sides of the business are related.
I finish applying my makeup: dark smokey eyes, red lipstick. It isn't nearly as good as the fae twins, and as I stare at my reflection, a range of emotions pass through me. Confidence. Second-guessing, then self-doubt. Discomfort.
I still look like an uncomfortable human playing dress-up.
Whatever. I'm just delivering drinks. I can quit after tonight, say I've had my brush with my wild side, and look for another job in marketing. One in an office, with beige walls and a day planner.
I push the door open, follow the music, and begin.
Lily
"Bring these to six. The mer-people prefer males, so you should be able to get right back. I'm a little swamped tonight. I've got this tray for twelve, and this one for five." Eli hovers his hand over the filled drink trays, then rushes back to the patrons lined up at the bar.
It's my third week at The Monster Playhouse, and all I've done so far is serve drinks. Eli is cute if he thinks anyone is going to ask me to stick around, so I grab the tray for table six and work my way through the crowd.
Despite not being propositioned even once, this is the best job I've ever had.
Sure, I was nervous at first about sleeping with the customers.
I told myself that first night all I wanted was to get through the shift without having my ass grabbed without my permission.
And I did. I got through the entire shift, and nobody paid me any attention.
No one made advances; no one touched me.
Not the next night, or the one after that.
After a while, I felt slighted.
I've learned that monsters are more respectful than humans in a lot of ways.
There are so many clashing cultures here, and a general understanding that everyone sets their differences at the door.
If there's any trouble, there are three troll security guards spread throughout the room.
Three may not sound like very many, but considering they're half-giants, it doesn't take much to subdue any type of monster.
They may not be quick or bright, but they can wallop.
So, as it turns out, the one thing I was dreading, more nervous about than any other aspect of the job… it's not even a problem.
Because no one wants to fuck me.
So now I have a new problem. I love my new job. It's so much fun. There are so many interesting people. I've made friends with all my coworkers, and even a few regulars. But my self-esteem has never taken such a beating.
My fiancé cheated on me. I lost everything. To gain my confidence back, I started working here, thinking, well, most monsters want to fuck humans, since we're smaller than them and easy to manhandle. We've got tiny holes and pamphlets.
But the monsters don't want to fuck me either.
At least I'm finding my groove as a server, trying not to take it personally when I get a polite nod and a pleasant, now please leave smile from the gnomes and half-kraken.
Whatever. I don't want to have sex with them, anyway. Way too many tentacles. Where would they even go?
It's a rhetorical question, because they're Keely's favorite, and she's explained in great detail where they all fit.
She even had four male half-krakens follow her and Braden into a private room last week, and before I even had to ask how that all worked, she winked and said, "They have holes, too. "
All I could picture was one giant pile of squiggly limbs playing naked Twister.
I drop off the tray and grab drinks for table twelve, then five.
Each tray is refilled by the time I get back, so I fall into my new nightly routine.
I'm delighted to know I'm efficient as ever.
Skills I never thought would translate here have helped me excel at my job.
I'm the best damn server this place has ever seen.
Or so I like to tell myself, since it's a pleasure house and not one monster has asked me for pleasure, and I've gotta find my fun somewhere.
The pamphlet is useful in other ways too.
I'm learning about different monster scents and taste preferences.
I enjoy recommending new drinks to regulars, since I've learned more about their species, and can make educated guesses about what they might like.
It's exciting when they enjoy my suggestions, and I add little notes in my pamphlet so I can keep track.
I changed up my wardrobe a bit, finding something that suited me between what most employees wear—some combination of stringy things, fishnets and spandex—with old band t-shirts I had buried in a closet. And every night, I wear the shimmery silk wings clipped to my shoulders that Keely gave me.
Maybe I'm not getting laid because I'm dressing too modestly. I tried cutting my shirt lower at the neck. With my lacy hot-pink bra, you could definitely catch some nip if I bent over just right. But nobody's looking.
That's nothing compared to Keely and Braden's actual nipples, which I see constantly.
Whatever. I'm happy serving drinks.
The other thing I've learned is, the flirtier you are, the more you can banter, the better the tips. I'm not great at banter, so I've tried to make up for it by delivering drinks quickly, never screwing up an order, and being an attentive server.
I think I make a tenth of what everyone else makes, but it's not like I have rent. I still live in my parents basement. So, there's that.
I finish helping with drinks and, halfway through the night, I sit down on a barstool, drop the empty tray and say, "Okay, what else you got?"
Eli gives me a long look. One I know he doesn't have time for, but he leans his elbows down and rests his chin in his hands. "As efficient as you are at serving, I know it's not why you're here."
"Trust me, I'd rather do this than have sex with complete strangers."
He gives me another long, suffering look like he knows I'm lying. "Listen, I like having you help me. If this is what you'd rather do, I can ask Mara if we can hire you for the back of the house. You'll get a higher hourly pay, but you won't be able to sleep with customers."
"Maybe that's for the best," I mutter.
"Are you sure that's what you want?"
I force false enthusiasm into my voice. "Yeah, of course. I'm obviously not cut out for this."
I wave behind me at all the debauchery. I've gotten used to people having sex and getting off while I'm delivering drinks.
It's amazing, actually, how quickly I adapted.
My first night here was trial by fire. I dropped drinks off while a minotaur exploded in someone's mouth from the lower deck.
He slammed his fist down on the table, thanked me for the beer, handed me cash, then turned back to his friends. That's just how this job goes.
"Maybe you should try out the lower deck first, before you decide."
"You trying to get rid of me?"
"Not even a little. I want you to stick around.
Which is why I don't want you to regret the decision.
You can try out the lower deck—only if you want to—and then, if you don't like it, you'll know for sure it's not for you.
If you do like it, then I still get to keep you as a server, but we'll arrange a schedule so you're with me part time.
I'll take you on the busy nights," he winks.
I laugh, because every night is busy.
"I just want you to be comfortable here," he adds kindly. That I don't always seem comfortable goes unspoken.
I spin on my stool and look around the room. When I first started here, the idea of doing what Keely and Braden do… what they all do… it did make me uncomfortable. Now that I've been here a while… I try to ignore the feelings stirring inside me.
The lower deck is a better option for me. No chance of getting turned down. And I could do this. Take the leap. Touch a monster's cock.
God, I want to touch a monster's cock. But the rejection is still raw. From Danny. From all the monsters here, every single night.
Eli turns back to his customers and starts refilling drinks. I think about his offer, even hours later when I'm in the staff room on my break, shoving cheesy crackers into my mouth.
Keely enters with Braden on her heels.
"You know, all the monsters can smell that nasty cheese breath."
"It doesn't really matter, does it?" I snort self-deprecatingly and shove more crackers in.
"Of course it matters. Even serving drinks, they smell that shit on you. They're not gonna want you hanging around."
"They don't now, anyway," I shrug defiantly. Maybe that's exactly what I want. An actual reason they don't want me. Something tangible, like cheese breath.
Braden flicks my hair and crawls onto the couch beside me, sprawling out. "Eli told us about his job offer."
"I'm going to take it."
"I want to ask if you're sure, but you sound sure. But he also said…"
"What?" I turn to face him, and he wrinkles his nose. I finish chewing and swallow down half a bottle of water.
"He thinks—"
"We think," Keely interrupts. "That it's time you check out the lower deck. The private rooms are obviously not for you, or at least not yet. You need to be more flirtatious, and clearly that's above your paygrade."