pets. That turned out to be pretty popular—at one point there was a scramble when new people came in and couldn’t find a handler. Some of the handlers ended up walking three submissives at once.
Another girl came in to take Rena’s place on the second shift. Simone worked both shifts, and I remembered her remark to Flynn about money. She was probably trying to recoup whatever he’d pilfered from her.
I spotted Shepherd skulking about, striking up conversations with customers and reading emotional imprints.
When we finally hit a lull, Simone held one of those little electric fans in front of her face. “Did Flynn show you the staff room? That’s where we take our breaks.”
“Yep.”
“It’s clean, so you can eat in there. Just don’t leave behind a mess. Keep your street clothes in a locker and change before you leave.”
“How do I know which lockers are available?”
“The ones that don’t have a padlock. If you don’t want someone stealing your valuables, bring a lock. I keep a close eye on the tips, but we’ve had a few things go missing from people who didn’t secure their lockers.” She returned the fan to a lower shelf. “Do me a favor and watch the tip boxes. I’m taking a break.” Simone slinked around me and then gripped my arm. “And if I ever catch you stealing my money, I’ll cut you into a million pieces.”
After she sauntered off, I headed to the far end of the bar and worked my way around.
“Give me a Tickler.”
“You’ll have to wait,” I informed the man with the Viking beard. “How about a pint to tide you over?”
“I asked for a fucking Tickler. Are you new around here? Because I’m not, and this isn’t how you treat customers.”
Irritated, I grabbed the green vodka and filled a glass. I wanted to keep my eye on the tip boxes, and that meant not abandoning my station. “Hey, can you tickle this?” I asked the blond bartender on the opposite side of the bar. I could see her through the gaps in the center shelves. “Sorry, I don’t know your name.”
“Busy,” she said tersely.
Yep. She was giving me the cold shoulder.
“Just put your fucking finger in the glass. Pretty please.”
“You mean this finger?” She gave me the middle finger before serving a large order.
I grumbled and headed back to deliver my virgin drink to the Viking.
“Whiskey on the rocks!” someone called out.
I poured drinks, moved fast, and collected my tips like a robot.
“Hey, are you trying to screw me over?” the Viking asked. “This isn’t spiked.”
“I said you’ll have to wait,” I fired back.
“You can’t just serve me a virgin drink and expect to get away with it.”
As he looked for another bartender, I noticed the leather collar on his neck. Viktor did say I needed to stand out. I put my hands on the counter and glowered. “You’ll take whatever the hell I give you.”
He furrowed his brow. “Do you think I’m gonna pay for it?”
I leaned in and locked eyes with him. “Oh, you’re gonna pay for it. And when you finish that glass like a good boy, you’re going to order another. If you’ve got a problem with taking orders, you can lick my boots.”
His lips parted, and he slowly downed his drink.
“That goes for anyone else,” I said, speaking to the onlookers who weren’t used to seeing the bartender lose their shit. “Until Simone gets back, you’ll take whatever the hell I give you. I’m in charge here. If anyone decides to stiff me on a tip, I’ll hurt you so bad that you’ll scream like a newborn.”
People surrounded the bar, and a line formed.
“I’ll have a beer,” the next man said.
I filled a glass and set it on a napkin.
“I wanted a bottle,” he said meekly, his pupils dilated.
I lifted his glass and gulped it down. “When you learn how to behave, I’ll give you a refill. Next!”
He left bills on the bar before hurrying off to a nearby table. The next man approached and wanted a whiskey sour. Instead, I grabbed whiskey, ice, bitters, lemon, and a sugar cube.
“That’s not a sour,” he said glumly.
I set the old-fashioned on a napkin. “That drink isn’t you. This is you. Understood?”
With a salacious glint in his eyes, he left me a stack of bills and trotted off with his drink.
Before I knew it, handlers were standing in line with leashed customers. I was attracting a certain type of crowd, and they tipped whatever I asked them