How to Destroy a Rich Boy

Chapter One

With a sigh, I pulled my head away from the wall and made my way over to the door. The second I swung open the door, my boss's hot sweaty face awaited me. 

I forced a smile. "Sorry about that; I was just blowing my nose," I lied. 

"Hmph," was all he muttered in response as he looked me up and down distastefully. "Well, hurry up and go see your table."

His tone had me biting my lip so hard that I tasted metal. God, did I want to punch him.

I was smart enough not to say anything, not trusting myself not to spit out something sarcastic. With one final glare in his direction, I brushed past him, making sure to give him a little 'accidental' nudge with my elbow. 

What, accidents happen?

Marching my way through the dimly lit room of the club, I glanced briefly over at the stage where two girls were in the middle of stripping off each other's bras. I quickly everted my eyes and pulled my gaze to my feet - deciding to focus on my heels. Call me a wuss - but I could never bring myself to watch too much of the show.

As I drew closer to number ten, I felt disappointment eat away at me as I took in the sight of the customers sat around the table. There were about five or so middle-aged men all hooting with laughter as they took pictures of the stage. 

I wasn't remotely surprised - these kinds of guys were our typical customers.

Their heads all lifted up as I reached their table, and I plastered my normal rehearsed smile onto my face. 

"Are we ready to order?" I called out with a chipper smile. Each one of their eyes seemed to light up in excitement as they drunk me in; their eyes quite unsubtly lingering on the larger part of my thigh peeking out from under my shorts.

 A few of them exchanged knowing glances and jabbed each other with their elbows as though they were all sharing one big inside joke. An inside joke that was clearly about me.

The cockiest looking one amongst them - slightly balding and blonde, twisted himself a little bit in his seat so he was fully facing me. Before even saying a word, the crooked face gentleman dropped his eyes from my eyes down to my breasts, the top of which was pushed out a little above the neckline of my playsuit. 

He proceeded to stare at them for a full three seconds with a small creepy smile on his face. He knew I was watching, but he didn't care and continued to stare on like they were his property.

Finally, his eyes returned to mine, and his smile grew wider. "Blondie, I'm sorry, I seem to have got a little carried away with my staring," he chuckled, not a slither of regret on his tone. "The outfits they give you here are quite... tempting, aren't they? Especially on a body such as yours," he said as his eyes did another slow rake over my body.

 Losing my cool slightly, I narrowed my eyes, hardly able to believe the rude shit that was coming out of this rich bastard's mouth. 

Control your anger, Sophie. Don't kill him. He was born an idiot; he can't help it.

I took a deep breath in and dug my nails into my wrist to help subside my anger.

"My name is Sophie, not Blondie," I stated tightly as I gave my nametag a little condescending tap. 

"Your order?" I spat as I internally, and well, quite externally simmered with rage.

I knew this wasn't the correct way to talk to customers, but this guy had already overstepped way too many boundaries for me to give a shit.