The Offer

Chapter 3

Catherine’s POV

While I was working my shift, I noticed that the two useless men who frequently visit the bar had been staring at my ass for twenty minutes straight. I kept wiping the same counter, moving bottles around like I had a reason to stay busy, but I felt their eyes the whole time. One of them finally raised his voice.

“Look at that body. Bet she knows exactly what to do with it.”

His friend laughed. “Come on, baby. Why you acting shy? We tip pretty good. Come over here and show us something.”

I did not look up. I had heard worse on slower nights. Still, the words landed heavy when you were already tired and counting the hours until you could leave. One of them reached across when I passed too close and tried to grab at my hip. I stepped back hard enough that his fingers closed on air.

“Don’t touch me,” I said, keeping my voice flat.

“Or what? You too good for us now? Looking like that and playing hard to get. We know what girls like you are for.”

The second one joined in, louder. “Act like you don’t want it. Everybody in here knows the type. Shake it for free on the floor then act brand new when real money shows up.”

I opened my mouth to answer, but Lucy, a bartender was already there. She grabbed my wrist and pulled me down the length of the bar toward the side door that led to the staff hallway. I let her. The two men called after us, still laughing, but the noise faded once the door shut.

“Thank you for saving my ass,” I said, leaning against the wall for a second. My heart was beating faster than I wanted to admit.

Lucy waved it off. “Oh no. I was told to tell you something but anyways, scratch that.” She glanced back toward the bar like she wanted to make sure no one had followed, then faced me again.

“One of the girls for the VIP room just bailed. Completely disappeared into air, and Boss is pissed. They need someone up there now.”

I already knew where this was going. “No.”

“Catherine, listen. You have the body. You know how to move. It is just dancing. Nothing extra unless you want it. And the tip is huge tonight. Some big man requested the room and he pays like it is nothing.”

“I said no. I serve drinks. That is it.”

Lucy stepped closer, voice dropping. “I am not going to force you. But the money is real. One set. You go up, do what you do, collect it, and leave. The kids are with the sitter, right? This could cover more than a few nights of that.”

The mention of the kids landed exactly where she knew it would. The two of them were left on my doorstep by my sister with a short note and no timeline for when she planned to come back. The sitter was already texting me every hour for updates. Then I remembered, rent was due and even the twins' baby food was close to finishing. I stared at the scuffed floor of the hallway and felt the familiar weight settle in my chest.

“Just for the night,” I said finally. “Nothing more.”

Lucy’s face relaxed. “Good. Come on, I'll inform Boss and walk you up.”

The VIP room sat at the top of a short private staircase. There was a long couch and a small raised platform in the center. The man sitting there looked older than the usual crowd. He did not speak when I stepped inside. Lucy gave me a quick nod and left, closing the door behind her.

I did not waste time. I had agreed to this, so I would finish it. The music shifted and I stepped onto the platform and started moving. Slow at first, then sharper, using the rhythm the way I used to when money had been even tighter. Twist. Turn. Let the body do the work while my mind stayed somewhere else. I felt his eyes on me the entire time but I did not look directly at him.

When the last track ended, I stepped off the platform and reached for the small bag I had brought with my clothes. My pulse was still high from the movement. I pulled my top back into place and started packing the rest without ceremony.

Then the man spoke for the first time. His voice was calm, measured.

“You move well. Better than the ones who usually come up here.”

I kept folding. “Thanks. I will take the tip and go.”

He watched me for a moment longer. “How about I offer you a proposal instead.”

I zipped the bag and slung it over my shoulder. “If you need a bitch to take home, you will find them at the back parking lot. Fifty dollars.” I turned toward the door.

His next words stopped me cold.

“Twenty million.”

I stood still with my hand on the handle. The number did not make sense at first. I turned my head just enough to look at him.

“It is not about taking anyone home,” he said.

I faced him fully now. “I am listening.”

He stayed seated, elbows on his knees, eyes steady on mine. “I would offer you twenty million dollars for just one job.”

The room felt smaller. I didn’t want to move closer to show I was interested, but I did not leave either. “What is that?”

He held my gaze without blinking.

“I’d offer you 20 million dollars if you can turn my son straight.”