Prologue

So here it is with some added corrections.

I still don't have the name of my editor, so I'm yet to give her credit.

Get popcorn and background music.

Hope you enjoy.

***

'...' = thoughts.

"...." = spoken sentences.

***

"Connor, table thirty-four. Hop to it!"

'Should've seen that coming.'

A young man with hazel eyes looked up from the empty tray he held. Despite his obvious irritation, he held his tongue.

He was raven haired, had a slim but fit physique, and was currently dressed in black and white work formal with a maroon waistcoat in place of a jacket. The humble beginnings of a beard sprouted from an otherwise smooth chin.

"Connor!"

"I heard," he sighed, shelving the kitchen ware back where he took it from. "Just clarify for me a little. Do you want me to serve forty-one, sixteen or thirty-four? I'm a bit at odds of what to do here."

That last line came out with a little more spite than intended. It couldn't be helped. Janice was a slave driver in every sense of the word. And when she had a bad day, the witch went out of her way to make sure everyone else did too.

The woman in question stopped flipping through the register and narrowed her eyes dangerously at him. "We gettin' cute now, Connor?"

"I can't help it sometimes," he countered with a casual shrug of the shoulders. The entire kitchen went dead silent. It was populated by fifteen other people, all wearing their own uniforms and occupied with their own designations. Some on clean up, some on meal preparations, others like him were waiters. They got the brunt of it. From both their supervisors and their customers.

Janice gently placed the book down, rounded the chopping counter and walked over to him, heels clicking with every step. "Careful princess. Or I'll make sure the next thing you'll be carrying with those pretty fingers of yours, is a cleaning kit with the uniform and job title to match."

She dusted invisible dirt off his shoulder with a smile. "I want your ass at table thirty-four Connor. Now." Her head nudged at the tables through the walls. "Clear enough?"

The question hung in the air for a moment before he returned the wry smile. "Transparently."

It was official a long time ago that he loathed her. Considerably more than any other person here did. Whatever feeling that had morphed into since, was beyond the english dictionary's capability to adequately describe it.

'Human relations is clearly not your thing so what genius decided to put you in charge anyway?'

Oh, that's right. The joys of having family in high places meant one didn't necessarily have to worry about being qualified for a job. That bit was understandable. What really ticked them all off however, was how the leech insisted on taking all the credit for their efforts, in public or amongst themselves.

In all fairness, he'd technically be within his rights to state he was running an hour overtime already. And if the witch wanted any more mileage out of him, she'd need to clock it.

Just as well, she'd be without alternatives, with the way the restaurant was already running understaffed. But then the people she answered to would want an explanation as to why the payroll was heavier without prior approval.

Connor shook his head to himself. It was almost ten at night but he was already antagonised enough as it was. Riling Janice up any further would not be in his best interests. Stepping around her, he gave the devil incarnate two taps on the shoulder before making for the handleless doors.

Panorlite was a full fivestar restaurant, only found in hotel franchises with the same rating or higher. No doubt, it deserved no less by the simple look of it.

A pearl white themed dining room set the stage for a memorable evening. No two tables looked alike, each sporting rounded edges and were lit up by tea light candles. Those reflected brilliantly off the translucent surface they sat on.

Curved chairs were encased in hand sewn polyester and the floor they rested looked like polished ice without a single tile in sight. The ideal sports bar sat by the far wall exhibiting the finest of liquor. Hell, even the dimly lit chandeliers alone must have each cost double his entire student loan.

But for him, all this class translated to was that he'd be constantly serving wealthy stiffs with quite the variety of silver spoons shoved so far up their rears, it's a wonder how they even managed to sit down at all.

'Hey, at least it pays well... Relatively speaking anyways.'

The waiter casually pulled out his disposable note pad and branded pencil as he made his way over to his assignment. The clatter of cutlery against plates cascaded throughout the room. So did the murmur of conversation, laughs and the clink of wine glasses as friends honoured each other.

A man anxiously crushed a ring box behind his chair while his date droned on about something forgettable. It all served to drown out the repetitive classic music that played in the background.

A hand fell on his shoulder, catching him off guard. "You just won the lottery."

"What?"

"Thirty-four, equals lottery," His co-worker elaborated. "Or pigeons depending on your point of view."

Aleck was the youngest of them all. A fresh greenhorn with a slick sense of cunning. He could literally - for lack of a more accurate word - bullshit his way out of anything.

In most instances, that alone was all one needed to know about the fellow. But in this line of work, that skill came in pretty useful when it came to collecting... incentive.

"Be nice to them, you hear me? Ask them how their day was, laugh at their jokes," he advised, pausing to pick up a dropped fork. Did he know he was wearing his clip-on bow tie upside down? "Make a little small talk, see if they can get lotsa free stuff like complimentary wine. Then give them lots of it."

"Gee... Am I going to take an order or going on a date?"

"Depends on how versatile you are."

Connor arched a brow at the implication. "Should I be worried?"

"There's at least one girl there, so no," Clearly he'd done his research. It was typical of him; Constantly scheming and calculating the shortest route to each customer's wallets.

Yet even he had to admit, ever since the rookie came on board, there had been a significant increase in gratuity. "Seriously though. You gotta make this one count. We all kinda need it."

True. Among them was a sort of... '

Code

' employees went by. For all staff to benefit from tips, they had to go into a single jar rather than one's pocket.

The earnings were then divided at the end of each run. The bigger the bonus, the bigger the payoff. These were their real salaries. These past few days had been a little dry though.

"Alright. So who are they exactly?" Connor could think of one or two ways to get an indecent amount out of them.

"Rich kids." Aleck gracelessly dodged a guest, in attempt to keep up. "They're the class of stuck ups that gamble recklessly just because they can."

"As opposed to what? Betting for a sustainable income?" A toddler scurried by with a serviette in hand. So much for their no children policy. Did Samantha overlook anyone with a cheque book these days?

"My argument's that; with pockets that deep, they don't

need

to." There was an touch of venom in his tone. "Yet they still have the audacity to play for other people's money."

The first waiter's eyebrows furrowed. "'Play' being the operative word, right? As in play

a

game

? I'd like to think everyone's entitled to a little amusement."

Aleck scoffed. "At their own expense. Not someone else's. You should have seen them man. It's no longer a game when people start pushing tokens in the five digits figures. They were at every table. Roulette, twenty-one, baccarat... "

It was his turn to stop the chatterbox. He halted midway and laid both hands on Aleck's shoulders sternly. "You know... I don't remember saying anything about casinos." He could practically see Aleck berate himself internally. His hair was cut short today. A torn lip indicated he may or may not have been involved in a fight recently. "Do I even wanna know?"

The rookie stubbornly pulled out of his grip. "Yesterday, freckles over there conned me." Connor shifted his view over to where his co-worker glared.

His target had curly blonde hair and faded freckles manifesting on a somewhat handsome face. He was definitely the easy going sort. The laid back posture and and calm manner he addressed his company was evidence of that.

"We were playing an honest game of Blackjack. Then he shows up with his stack of chips and baits everyone. Twelve rounds later he'd cleared out the entire table, taking my day's wages with him. Bastard was counting the whole time," he vented through grit teeth. His hands were balled into fists. "The entire table knew it too including the dealer. Imagine my shock when I'm asked to leave after calling him out for it."

Knowing him, that's when he decided to take it up with the bouncer called to remove him. Not an easy argument to win. To a degree Connor could understand. His friend had been done a disservice and just wanted his money back.

But his paycheck never had the capacity to sustain that kind of pastime. It's not like casino's weren't out there to make a loss. Hell, he himself was barely legal for them either.

"Aleck, do you ever learn?"

"I do! C'mon, I don't bet obsessively. I know when to cash out." Of course he'd defend himself. Who likes to admit fault? "Yesterday, frustration got the better of me. He'd lose a turn or two, fooling you into betting more, then he'd up his stakes too before..."

"Not interested in semantics mate." Connor turned his attention back to his job. "I'll get only your starting balance back, but just this once," he assured him. "For the time being, stay out of his sights. Alright?"

Aleck simply nodded and left it at that. Alleviation rung off each step as the rookie sprung off in the direction they came from.

It would probably be something else next week. So the question was; is he really helping the child if he gave him an out every time he messed up?

Regardless of the grudge though, on a normal day, Aleck wasn't much different. He took every client here as a challenge. Like they were their own unique vault. Each with a different exploitable combination.

There was just one consistent problem with Al's strategies though. They all involved sucking up. He however couldn't stand to see himself submit to anyone.

Connor studied the table's three occupants as he made his approach. They were just a couple of children, not much younger than him really. Maybe nineteen or twenty. Maybe both? But they were children nonetheless. That last observation was mostly determined by how they carried themselves. Simply put; They were spoilt.

'But what do I care so long as they pay right?'

Fellow human beings populating the tables around them, wore quite the annoyed expressions. Who could blame them with the excessively loud laughter, or the cigarette smoke hijacking the air? Never mind that there's a smoker's section or ventilated private rooms. Never mind the outside deck for that matter.

"Ladies and gentlemen. I bid a fair night to ye all. May thy humble attendant offer thee liquor to quench thy thirst or perhaps a meal to fill your bellies," he started coolly.

And cue silence. They all just stared at him like he'd recently spat out a cat.

"I'm asking for your orders basically." He clarified when they failed to respond.

A ginger haired girl with short spiky hair started to giggle profusely. "Really now? With pirate slang or whatever the fuck that was?"

The waiter smiled back. "It's an ice breaker. I feared anything short of unusual would've done very little to get your attention." He then gestured with the stationary he held in hand. "So what are we having?"

That was followed by even more laughter, this time unbridled and he had to actively force his eyes not to roll.

"Alright, me matey." Connor looked across to the male across the table responsible for the smoke choking the air. Had he not opened his mouth, he may have passed for the smarter type. He certainly dressed the part with him being the only one in formal dress code.

One could strongly argue he finished a bottle of hair gel with one usage. It suit him though with the manner his jet black hair was neatly combed back. "Obtaineth for me and mine crew two of thy finest bottles namethed Macallan 25," he mocked. "We are still to chooseth our meals to dineth on this evening."

Connor cringed inside. Yeah he really shouldn't try that again before reading five or six medieval novels. Preferably those published in the nineties era or earlier.

"Right away sir," he replied. "Might I just take a look at your ID first?"

"Why? So you can stalk me and commit identity theft?"

"So I can confirm whether or not you're alcohol legal." Well that sure caught their attention. The amity in their demeanor vanished instantly. The two boys stared holes into him while ginger over there threw her phone into her miniature hand bag as if to mark the end of the event.

"You just had to go there," the last guest remarked. He was the least impressed of them all. "Just who the fuck do you think you are anyway?"

'Ringleader at two o'clock.'

The age card always put things into focus. "Sir, I'm just following protocol." he said feigning innocence. "A liquor license is very easy to lose."

"Jamie, let's just go," the girl started but was cut off by his raised hand.

Now that he was up close, Connor thought he recognised him from somewhere. He was sporting a well covered up bruise on his left cheek. Now why didn't Aleck mention that bit? "That shouldn't necessarily be your problem," freckles rationalised. "I'd be shocked if this restaurant had never paid a bribe or two before."

Connor quirked an eyebrow. Something only he seemed to be capable of. "All the time actually. Mostly with passes on health and sanity checks relating to food deliveries." His elbows used the back of the empty fourth chair to support his weight. He continued in a more hushed tone.

"However that's management's problem. If I screw up, they still pay the inducement, sure. But I still lose my job. Now let's pretend this inducement was paid without their knowledge. Hypothetically, I'd have nothing to lose and you wouldn't have to go about the impossible task of looking for a top star establishment that flauts the law."

A moment passed where the two were deadlocked in a stare. No, only one of them stared. The other was more akin to a death glare. Where had he seen him before?

Then freckles' expression made a complete U-turn. He grinned and sat back. His hand reached for the jacket's inner pocket and pulled out a wallet. "Okay. I get it. Just simple capitalism at work, right? One's gain at the expense of another?"

Connor shrugged. "I'd like to think of it as a provisional trade."

The blonde's eyes betrayed his cordial smile. "Fair enough. So then, hypothetically speaking; How much is this 'bribe'?" He emphasised on that last word with fingers curling up in the air.

In that moment, Jamie had taken control of the bargain, letting him state his price. Connor's reply came in written form. He ripped off the note, gently laid it down on the glass and patiently awaited their move.

Ginger grabbed it first. Confusion flashed across her face before it turned into rage. "What? That's extortion!" retorted loud enough for the next few tables to hear.

"Agreed," the second concurred, pulling the paper from her fingers for a better look. "Jamie we'll call princess and tell her we'll be getting our shit elsewhere," he finished, passing him the note and pulling his jacket off the back of his chair.

"Sit down." It was solid and didn't offer much room for argument. Ignoring his friend's advice, Jamie pulled out his smart phone and unlocked it. "We're waiting for Luka. And when she arrives, we'll have our dinner, right here at this table, sipping on our glasses of Macallan. And only after we're done, shall we leave." He handed the phone over to Connor. "Branch code and account number in the highlighted fields."

No sooner had he entered in his details and confirmed, Connor felt his own cell phone vibrate in his pocket. He smiled inwardly despite the dirty stares the other two gave him. No doubt they'd severe a limb before they ate here again. But if what Aleck told him was anything to go by, he was just returning the favour.

He handed Jamie his phone back and Jamie simply received it with his dignity intact. "Two complimentary twenty-fives, neat, coming right up," he finished, jotting it down and backpedaling from the table.

It was really all just a formality. The entire conversation, that is. He knew it and so did the blonde. The other two groupies were still yet to catch on.

They wanted alcohol, Jamie could afford it and he could supply it. One just needed the balls to demand what one wanted and from the looks of things, that's what Jamie respected. Either that or he was just too prideful to admit any lack of money for someone of his class.

'Bull. It was neither of the two. The kid was just showing off.'

'What do I care? I got what I wanted.'

'And what does that got to say for

your

pride and self-respect?'

'I don't remember begging for a dime, so it's still high up there.'

'That's not what I'm talking about...'

Why he hadn't yet thrown his conscience out in the cold by now was nothing short of a miracle. Technically it was because of him that the three were even

having

anything respectable to drink at all. It's not like he was being deceptive. Practically every server here took advantage of their customers whenever the opportunity arose. Lord knows they needed the credit more.

'To hell with it. We seriously need to get you off your high... high... Wow.'

He couldn't have imagine a more aesthetically pleasing image of a girl if he was given a lifetime to try. Connor was dumbstruck. Almost as if his thought pattern had turned into scribbles.

Her hair was a rich light shade of mahogany, tied up into neat pigtails that swung with every fluid step. They flowed in thick waves, down to her lower back.

She owned a slightly inward curved small nose, smooth pink lips, a sharp chin, all wrapped up in glowing, porcelain-like skin. And with those huge azure eyes framed by long thick eyelashes - she screamed of perfection.

But the sight of her was gone all too soon when her gorgeous self walked past him as if he didn't even exist.

God have mercy, she was pretty and cute all in the same basket. It tore him up inside just to look at her. Even the fragrance she left behind smelt... like citrus. Good luck trying to get it out of his mind in the near future.

There was an aching need to turn around for just for one last look. Lord knows that would have its fair share of repercussions. Janice was out of the kitchen. In the dim lighting, he could see her eyes trained on him provokingly. He sighed to himself and made his way past the throngs of people enjoying the meals his best friend helped prepare.

There was a collective applause the moment Connor stepped into the kitchen. Aleck looked at him thankfully and he nodded in return. The same went for a couple of the other people there with phones in hand looking at the notification. This had been a fairly hopeless week thus far and with the way most of the crew literally lived from paycheque to paycheque, every cent meant the world.

Yeah, where was his conscience now? Had it nothing to say anymore?

His legs walked him past the food and plate warmers, over to the ovens on the far end of room. The sharp clap of high fives echoed along the way.