Sep 6, 2019
Camila struts her way through the crowd, hair swaying smartly with each step.
She feels wired, pleasantly buzzed, in-tune and alive with the energy that hums between drinks and conversation. It’s loud. The men have been just generous enough with the drinks tonight, and it’s again that she feels goddamn grateful for her job. This, in comparison with waiting tables? It’s never been a contest.
She spots tonight’s client. Or. Who she assumes to be. It’s dark, the lighting is muddled, and her brain isn’t operating on full clarity, to be fully honest. She’s not drunk. Simply ... relaxed.
She sets a friendly hand near the man’s own, peers over playfully.
“Haven’t been waiting too long, I hope.”
@leoncostello
