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The bar director sweeps a hand across the service floor, and Lev’s gaze crosses the room and lands directly on me. There is no searching in it, no hesitation, as though he already knew the exact station I would be standing at.

Every inch of skin his hands and mouth owned last night wakes up at once. His eyes drift slowly over my mouth, remembering exactly where it has been. My breathing trips over itself and my panties go damp. Move on with your life, I told myself this morning, in what feels now like another woman’s life entirely.

Then he looks away as if I’m a total stranger, and the group disappears into the back office. My chest stays tight and aching long after the door swings shut.

“Delaney.” Margo’s voice is faint. “That is him. That is the man.”

“That is him,” I admit.

“What is he even doing at our place?”

“I honestly don’t know.”

“He looked at you like he already knows exactly how you taste.”

I glare at her and drag my eyes back to the reservation book.

Around us the speculation runs wild. A giant new client. A foreign investor. A predator come to swallow the whole place whole. Nobody lands anywhere near the truth of it.

When Abernathy returns to our section, the fawning slides off his face like a mask coming loose. “You are paid to work, not to stand around drooling over rich men,” he snaps at the room. Dana palms her compact and starts fussing over nothing at all.

Then his eyes stop on me, and a sweaty, leering contempt settles into them. “You there, get on your feet.”

I rise slowly to my feet. His gaze crawls over my body with open, sweaty disgust.

“This is exactly what I mean. Dressing like a slut for a man’s benefit.”

I glance down at myself. The same white uniform shirt and black skirt every server on this floor wears, both well within code, the collar buttoned high, the hem sitting well below my knee.

The clothes simply fit me differently than they would fit Dana’s narrow frame. My chest and my hips fill the fabric where hers would leave it slack. That is the entire crime here.

“My outfit is well within the dress code,” I say evenly.

“The dress code doesn’t account for stretching a shirt to its breaking point,” he sneers. A couple of people suck in a breath. “You think shoving your tits out is what reels in wealthy men? Is that the plan you are running?”

The anger that’s been banking all morning finally catches flame. “I earn my paycheck honestly, which is more than I can say for a spineless little tyrant who degrades the people under him just to feel taller.”

Somebody gasps out loud.

His face goes crimson all the way to his ears. “Pack your things. You are finished here.”

Cold pours down my back, but I don’t drop my eyes from his. “Then I’ll wait for formal notice from HR. I’m not being fired for refusing to stand here and be degraded.”

“Hand me your badge this instant.”

“I will wait for HR.”

He lunges for the collar of my blouse and yanks it hard, and the neck drags sideways, baring the edge of my bra. His stare drops to my chest and sticks there, thick, crawling, and sick.

I knock his hand away. “Have you had a good enough look, you creep?”

Shame jolts across his face. Then he grabs my arm and moves to haul me toward the doors. “I will walk you out of this building myself.”

I clutch the edge of the bar and hold on for everything I’m worth. “Let go of me right now.”

Margo darts in to help, and he shoves her back so hard that she stumbles into a chair. My fingers scream where they grip the wood.

I draw my knee up to drive it into him, and before I can land it, he shrieks and lets go of me all at once. The sudden release throws my own weight backward, and my feet tangle beneath me.