Does she want a job?

Caitlin gnawed on her lower lip. It had been fun flirting and getting attention and free drinks, but maybe she'd led him on too much? Even being fairly drunk, this guy was like three times her age. A proposition? Ew.

"You know how I said I'm my own boss? I own a few clubs across the country, and you know, I think a girl like you'd make a huge amount of money. Now look, you should stay in school, but it's evening work and we can get you on a part-time schedule. What do you say?" Caitlin was taken aback for a second. This wasn't what she'd been expecting. She'd been expecting a pervert-ass request. Seeing her hesitate, George chimed in, "I'm not joking about the money, you know what they say, huge tits, huge tips." He grinned, showing yellow teeth. OK, that seemed more like him.

Normally, a sensible person would ask what the job was, but the drink had made Caitlin a little too gullible and eager for her own good. And well, you offer an eighteen year old girl the potential for a stack of cash and... "Sure! I'd love to!"

They made arrangements for her to come to the address of a club called 'Paradise' at 8 for a trial shift; after which Caitlin said goodbye with a peck on the cheek and headed home to sleep off the booze a little bit prior to her mother coming home.

Her mum complained a bit over her birthday dinner, but not overly so, "Look, Cait, it is great you've taken some initiative and got a job, but on your birthday? It's bad enough your father had to travel for work too..."

Caitlin kissed her mother on the cheek as she got ready to head out. "Come on, Mum, it's a good thing, having a job looks good on university applications. And do you want to keep giving me money?"

"No, I guess not, look, keep safe, sweetie."

"I will," Caitlin laughed, heading off in a simple pair of black figure hugging jeans and a tight black top clinging to her oversized chest. It took a little way on the bus to get to the club, which had a little bit of a queue out front, and an intimidating looking bouncer. But she'd been directed to the side door, another bouncer letting her in and escorting her up to a dingy office laden with filing cabinets and paperwork. George's mass was sat among it, a cigarette dangling out of his mouth, his gut knocking over some papers when he stood to greet her.

"Cait, glad you could make it," he greeted her. "I was worried you might get spooked."

Caitlin laughed, "Well, I mean, it's just a trial shift, what's the worst that can happen. Mind you," she giggled again, "You never told me what the job is."

George rummaged in one of the drawers absently, "Oh, I didn't? Well, it's..."