Yawning loudly, I checked the time on my phone and it read '8 pm'. Wait.. 8 PM??
I almost fell out of my bed from how fast I was trying to get up. I went to my bathroom and brushed my teeth while detangling my hair. I washed my face before brushing my curls into a low ponytail, leaving some strands out in the front and adding on a black bow. I went through my closet and picked out a white bikini top, and blue low-rise jeans with my black thong peeking out through the sides.
My Air Force 1s were waiting for me at the door to my apartment while I almost completely trashed my condo while looking for a purse to match my outfit. It was a baby blue cross-body, one of my favorites. Pulling my phone off of the charger, I dropped it into my purse along with a charger, a portable charger, my ID, pain pills, a brush, lip gloss, and my wallet.
I stared at my ID which read, "Hera Kontos", which was a little funny considering that I'm 5'8. I stuck it back into my purse as I did my makeup in the mirror before grabbing my keys, putting my shoes on, and walking out of the door to my condo. I waved my hands in front of my door which caused a vanilla smell to emit from the cracks.
After exiting the elevator, I smiled at the condo guard before hopping in my pink BMW and pulling out of the car garage. I called my coworker, Daphne, to let her know that I was on my way to the club. I could feel her shaking her head from over the phone and I smiled a little as I hung up and drove through the dimly-lit New York City.
I pulled into the parking lot and turned off my car, gathered my things, and proceeded to step out. Looking above me, the club's sign illuminated, "TARTARUS'', a name I'm all too familiar with. Giving the bodyguard standing outside the club a little hug, I walked into the club and saw Daphne sitting at the bar with our friend Hecate. I tapped their shoulders before walking to the locker rooms, they followed suit.
I opened my locker and put my purse in, making sure my money bag was empty as well.
"How much did you make last night?" Hecate asked, sitting down in one of the makeup chairs.
I thought back to last night, "$980."
Daphne was too busy counting her money from tonight to pay attention.
"Boss said that there's a new VIP guest tonight and she wants you to serve her, personally." Hecate enunciating the 'personally' made the sentence a little off-putting, but this wasn't the first time I was told to serve a customer personally. Not in a sexual way, but by giving them drinks. The more they drink, the more money goes to the bar; and the more money that goes to the bar goes into my pockets.
I nodded and locked my locker.
This was going to be another long night.
