“Not in a casino.” In addition to padding her bra, she had padded her resume with a few waitressing jobs at small, non-existent cafes. After all, how hard could it be to listen to what people wanted and bring them what they asked for?
“Well, you’ll learn. All right, you’ll start tomorrow afternoon atthree, assuming you pass the drug test.”
“Is there any way I could begin today?” she asked, lowering her chin. She felt like she was begging, probably because she was.
“I don’t know,” he said.
Flicka usually demanded what she wanted, but she knew how normal women got what they needed.
She leaned over the guy’s desk and braced her arms. Her boobs almost fell out of her half-unbuttoned shirt.“I would really appreciate it.”
The hiring manager glanced at her and then stared at his computer screen. “Well, your work authorization checks out. We are short-handed. All right, fill out these application forms, and then go down to the costume department and pick up your costume.”
“There’s a uniform?” she asked, standing up.
“Not a uniform.” He looked back at her and enunciated very clearlyat this next part. “It’s acostumebecause you’re aperformer.That’s an important distinction. Otherwise, we’d have to hire the most qualified people instead of people like you.”
Flicka almost shot back something like,That’s hardly fair,but she shut her mouth quickly. “Right. I’ll go pick up mycostume.”
The man picked up his cell phone. “I’ll text them that you’re coming. Welcome to theMonaco.”
Flicka said, “I’m sure I’ll feel right at home.”
He tossed a small, plastic jar to her. “And before you go, piss in this cup.”
