Russell, the handsome older man in charge of me, doesn’t like my job at a raunchy restaurant. So he gives me an ultimatum: either I quit or do my chores in my underwear. I pick option two to prove a point, but soon I’m flat on my back and baring it all for his eyes only.
He’s seen me in bathing suits before, but this moment feels different. I’m extra aware of my bared skin, self-conscious, ridiculously worried he won’t like what he sees. After all, only boys have seen me like this and they don’t exactly have discerning tastes. But Russell is a man. An experienced one twice my age.
His gaze meets mine again but he says nothing. There’s no readable expression on his face either. Oh god. Is that good or bad? Should I care? I shouldn’t because that’s not important! I’m supposed to be proving a point.
He remains perfectly still as I unbutton and unzip my jeans next. Once I’ve peeled them down and kicked them off to join my shirt, I straighten, standing in my pale pink bra and panties before my guardian.