Catering (closed)

[sexxxtoy18]

Kim carried the tray of drinks to them. They were sitting around a fireplace in richly upholstered armchairs and sofas, all dark hardwoods and warm reds. The soft lights and the fire gave the room an almost romantic atmosphere, but these men were here for business. They were powerful men exercising their power, flexing monetary muscles and moving mountains, not with faith, but finance.

Kim was a freshman in college, working for her uncle's catering company. She and another girl had been serving at the table in the hotel's private dining room while they ate, while her uncle and his sons cooked a meal so rich and beautiful that she was shocked to see that they barely touched it.

"Don't worry," he had told her in the kitchen. "We're not here to be appreciated. They pay whether they eat it or not. They asked if one of you could stay after dinner, to serve drinks in the suite. It's an extra hundred dollars for maybe an hour or two. I can ask Stacy...."

"I'll do it," Kim said, eagerly. A hundred dollars would go a long way.

Now that she was serving them drinks, she wondered. Each bottle she poured from was worth at least a hundred, and the men themselves probably thought no more of it than she would think of a penny. She set their drinks on coasters on the tables beside them, staying quiet, trying to be invisible until one of them noticed her.

She was a curvy girl, with dark hair pulled back in a no-nonsense ponytail for the night. She wore a black skirt and heels with a white blouse, and if her skirt showed a fair amount of thigh, or her blouse opened to display a tempting bit of cleavage, it wasn't excessive.

 

[Bevatoria]

It was a good time to be working for Yardner Holdings. Despite the economic turmoil, they'd managed to thrive by seeing opportunities in the markets that few did, making good in the chaos. Another deal had closed today, and while there was some talk of business, of how they may be able to buy out the partners in another firm, for the most part the five men in the room were taking it easy, laughing and being boisterous in a way that befitted their status in life. They were powerful people, taking advantage of it and using what they had to enjoy themselves. Which had been a part of this meeting; costing thousands of dollars to rent the room, the food, and have a waitress to bring them beverages that they could easily get themselves.

And at the center of this well furnished, polished room, sat Casey Epslein. A youngish looking 37 year old, he'd worked, forced, and schemed his way to one of the key positions in the company. He didn't run their acquisitions business, but whenever they needed a deal done quickly, a company turned around, or holdings liquidated, they went to him. And not his boss, who reported directly to the CEO of the company.

Well dressed in his striped suit and black pants, with a red tie and white shirt, perfectly shined shoes showing as he leaned back in his chair, he was conversing with his colleagues. Men of similar stature and drive, all of them as well dressed and as put together as he was. Most around his age, but none older then fifty; a rather unfortunate distinction that was left to Gerald, the guy currently asking for another scotch from their waitress.

And also the only one who had learned her name. Gerald was probably the nicest one of the bunch, even if businessmen of their stature could never really be nice during working hours. Of if they'd had a drink or two in them.

"Thank you, Kim." He said politely, taking his small glass of scotch off of the tray. He eyed her a little as she walked away, and as much as the guys were enjoying telling stories and making some crude jokes, there was one thing that the gathering was missing, Casey downed his drunk, clinking the ice in his glass.

"I need a refill...." He said, making sure to take her in as she walked over. She was dressed to tantalize, but not to tease; only a waitress trying to look nice while giving the men what they wanted. "Kim, was it?" He asked, looking at her; Casey hadn't bothered to learn her name, and while the other guys talked quietly, they kept their eyes on what he was doing.

She had heard their names, and even if she didn't remember them, it didn't matter; what mattered was how desperate she was. "Are you in school right now, Kim? Or is this all you do?" For as menacing and as tough as he could be in the boardroom, Casey was all charm at the moment, trying to make this young girl feel more comfortable in an environment where she wasn't meant to be.

"Have a drink yourself, if you'd like." He laughed as he said it, realizing how that probably sounded, as Casey didn't know how old she was. "It can just be water or pop, if you want. But it's on me."

 

[sexxxtoy18]

Kim walked back with the bottle of single-malt scotch for the oldest man, and refilled his glass. The whole group was drinking at a startling rate, but showed no real signs of getting out of control. Then again, these weren't high school or college boys. They were men in their thirties and forties, mostly, and they obviously knew how to hold their liquor. To Kim, it seemed almost like they were a different species, they were so casually sophisticated, even when they were telling thoughtlessly crude stories.

Just as she turned to retreat to the bar, the one whose glass she had refilled called her name. She turned back to face him, hoping she hadn't done something wrong, but he was smiling at her in a friendly, almost fatherly way.

"Are you in school right now, Kim? Or is this all you do?"

"Yes Sir," she said. "I'm at the University. My first year. I just help out with my uncle because, you know, it's expensive." She gave a little shrug, and then blushed. She very much doubted that any of these men had ever worried about the cost of anything, even something as expensive as education.

"Have a drink yourself, if you'd like. It can just be water or pop, if you want. But it's on me."

"Thank you, Sir," she said, and took the scotch back to the bar. She was still a few years shy of 21, but she didn't think any of the men would mind if she made herself a rum and coke, as long as she just had one and didn't get drunk.

There was a mirror over the bar, and she glanced at the older man several times as she made herself the drink. He seemed to have half an eye on her, though he seemed to still be following the conversation the others were having. She smiled a little at the attention. These men might be millionaires or even billionaires, she thought, and their business might be so confusing that she couldn't understand most of what they said, but she had a tight, round teenage butt. And they still appreciated that.

 

[Bevatoria]

"Cheers." said Casey, his thoughts towards the young waitress becoming increasingly focused and naughty. Especially when he watched her ass sway under her skirt as she walked towards the bar. He saw Gerald's eyes linger on her longer, and he couldn't help but smirk. "She's young enough to be your daughter."

"Not that she could be, I married late, remember-" he responded.

"Almost late enough that you couldn't!" howled Timothy, and Casey joined the rest of them in laughter, even as he turned back towards Kim at the bar, making her drink. They'd been talking and making jokes for the entire evening between little snippets of real (work) conversation, and while he knew it'd end well for them - hell, it already had - that maybe there was a way to make the evening more enjoyable...

At least for one person in the room right now. Casey stood up from his arm chair, looking over at Kim at the bar. "Come on, join us for a bit Kim! Nobody should drink alone." He motioned to the bottle. "Bring the scotch over, too, so you don't have to refill us for a while." He gave Tim a look that said 'you can live with that for a bit'. Which he would, to enjoy the company of a fine young lady for a while. "Remember, we're paying for you so we won't rat you out, right guys?" They were sitting in five overly stuffed armchairs, so Casey, ever the gentleman, scootched over to sit on the armrest on his to give her a spot. Hmm, this is almost as comfortable as the chair itself, he reflected.

She was younger then most of them. Marcus was probably the closest in age to her, and he was twenty-six. Another young upstart in a company full of them, but the one Casey saw the most in. Still, the easy banter the group had enjoyed seemed to fall a bit, even as Casey and Gerald gave her encouraging smiles, it seemed like nobody had anything to say for a bit while they enjoyed their drinks.

Which wasn't a bad thing entirely, but comfortable silences became uncomfortable ones quickly. Casey took a long sip of his drink, pouring a couple of refills while Kim took a load off; she seemed nervous, and he couldn't blame her. He almost started to say something when someone else beat him to it.

"Nice shoes, Kim. Where'd you get them?"

The voice came from Marcus, and Casey gave him a bit of a look. Don't make her conscious of the fact we're staring at her legs.. Maybe it was the booze he'd drank already, but most of the guys were making no effort to hide where their eyes were going. Especially now that she sat in the center of them.

 

[sexxxtoy18]

She hesitated a moment, but there was really no choice. It was such a friendly invitation, it would have been rude to refuse it, and they were right. They were paying her, they weren't going to bust her for doing as they requested. She grabbed the scotch in one hand and her drink in the other and walked over to the circle of chairs. One of them stood up, offering her his chair, and she blushed as he sat on the arm. She knew there was probably some graceful way that she should insist that he sit, but she had been on her feet since before these men sat down to eat, and just to sit for a moment would be bliss.

The chair was low and soft, and she sank into it and never wanted to stand up. She crossed her legs and pulled her skirt down where it was riding a bit too high on her thighs. They were all staring at her legs, and she blushed a little. She was used to being checked out, but this situation, the only woman with so many men, and men who were so far above her in age, wealth and power that she felt they barely existed in the same world as her.

Then one of them asked about her shoes, and she blushed harder. Had she been flattering herself to think that these men would be staring at her legs? They were good legs, she knew, but these men probably hung out with models and movie stars, her legs wouldn't turn their heads.

"My shoes?" she said, biting her lip. They were basic black high heels, nothing special. She looked down at them, embarrassed to meet the eyes of any of these rich men. "Um, I got them at Macy's."

 

[Bevatoria]

A sigh escaped two of his colleagues as she patted down her skirt, drawing a quick glare from Casey as she responded. "My shoes?" The way she bit her lip, and seemed skittish about meeting their gazes seemed to raise the tension in the air; as if the stakes were being raised by them merely taking to her. Casey watched her respond, unsure as to the point of Marcus' line of questioning. "Um, I got them at Macy's."

"They look good on you." replied the young cub in the group. Marcus was the closest to slurring out of any of them, which probably had to do with the fact that he'd had more to drink then everyone else - a misguided attempt to impress his peers. He'd already impressed him with his bravado in sales and negotiation, there was no need to win at everything. Sometimes, winning came in realizing you didn't need to be first; a notion that Casey savored, along with his drink, while the idle chatter, unbeknownst to him, started to build into something else entirely, that would define the evening. "Heels are hot on the legs of any woman, though." Marcus finished with a swig of his drink.

"Why don't you buy them off of her if you like them so much." A sly taunt from Oliver, who'd been the quietest of them all. Which was his nature, and the way most people ended up underestimating him right before he ended up with their deals. Had Casey - well, had all of them not been so dulled by the alcohol - he might've intervened. But these were men used to getting what they want, and the definition of such was about to be changed.

"Aight." Giving the shoes on the feet of Kim- and the legs attached to them - another long, leering glance, Marcus put out a bid. "$40."

"$50."

He turned towards Timothy - the source of the 'competing' bid who just shrugged.

"Can't always let you win, kiddo." He nodded at the shoes. "Besides, you might as well make her feel good about how much we think they're worth.

He winked at Casey, who saw an opportunity to perhaps teach his young upstart a lesson, and he gave Kim a look and a whisper. "Just pretend to play along so he can learn his lesson about running his mouth." Casey pulled away to watch the exchange with interest. Marcus' bids were erratic, where as Timothy could easily have been giving the time of day for as much as he seemed to care about it.

"$60."

"$75."

"$80."

"$100."

"$125!"

These were men with a fair amount of cash on hand (insignificant compared to the cash they didn't), and that amount of money were bills they could use as bookmarks or toilet paper if they so chose. Realizing the stakes were getting pretty high, Casey watched the two men men stare each other down; Marcus determined, and Timothy with the sly look of a man baiting a hook. He leaned in to her again to whisper.

"I did say you only needed to pretend to play along. But if you wanted to take the deal, well..." He tipped his glass back with a smile, another reinforcing swig of his drink while he awaited Kim's answer.

 

[sexxxtoy18]

Any hope that Kim had of being allowed to fade into the background faded when the youngest of the men there, in a display of drunken bravado, was goaded into trying to buy her shoes. As if that wasn't bad enough, one of the others turned it into a bidding war, and all of them were staring at her feet and legs. It would have been entirely awkward if the one who had given her his chair hadn't leaned over and whispered to her to just play along.

Some of them managed the pretense that they were looking at her shoes, but the one who had started the bidding had a hungry, aggressive expression that she knew well enough. It was a look that told her it was time to leave the party, before things got ugly, but a quick glance around at the others reassured her. These were not stupid, young frat boys with no control. They were serious men, and she was sure they would restrain each other. Or maybe she just told herself that, because a part of her wanted to see how far this would go.

In a matter of seconds, it went to $125. She knew that was hardly anything to men like this, but it was a lot for her, just to take her shoes off. There was also a hint of danger in the way that the two bidders were staring at eachother. She didn't think they would fight, but there was really no telling what men would do when they were drunk and their pride was on the line.

The chair was so deep that she had to uncross her legs and slide up to the edge before she could lean down with any kind of grace. Her skirt rode up high on her thighs, and she tugged it down again, blushing. Then she leaned down, her breasts pressing against her knees and her bra winking out from the neck of her blouse as she slipped her shoes off, glad she had painted her toenails that morning, a dark crimson shade.

She picked the shoes up and stayed perched on the edge of the chair, rather than risk sinking into it and having to struggle out.

"One hundred and twenty five dollars for a pair of ladies shoes," she said to the two men who were glaring at each other. Despite her nerves, and the curious excitement she felt at the thought that on some level this was serious, she managed to put just a touch of teasing in her voice, inviting them both to laugh it off as a joke. Or not. "Going once ... going twice ...."

 

[Bevatoria]

Even as the guys kept just staring each other down, there were enough eyes on Kim as she slipped into the soft chair, having to readjust her skirt and blouse. Casey found his gaze lingering on the sight of her bra as she leaned down to take off her shoes. He could think of no reason to restrain himself. They were powerful men, all used to having whatever they wanted, and right now that was a little fun at someone else's expense. Who's expense, however, was to be determined. They all thought it'd be Marcus', but appearances were deceiving,

"One hundred and twenty five dollars for a pair of ladies shoes," said Kim, having inserted herself into the conversation boldly. She was clearly not entirely at ease with everything, but her voice seemed to be loose enough to fool everyone, or at least giving the appearance of doing so. "Going once ... going twice ...."

"Sold!" Casey wasn't sure if it was Kim or Marcus who had said it first (as they seemed to say it at the same time), but he watched his colleague paw through the bills, all but shoving them into the young girl's hand as he snatched the shoes up from her. A chuckle went through the guys at the situation, with Marcus as proud as a peacock.

"I'm a man of my word, yo." He did his mock-punk routine, making the 'peace' sign with his right hand, which looked ridiculous in his suit. It drew more laughs from the guys, but Casey took another long gulp of his drink before refilling it.

They were all 'stealing glances' at Kim's legs (if by stealing glances, they meant looking whenever she wasn't), taking them in as they were now totally exposed from thigh to toenail. It wasn't as if she was wearing a lot less then she had been before, with the heels covering so little of her, but there was still something unusually erotic about a girl in her bare feet. Especially with her toenails painted like hers were, as if she had been expected to have been seen...

There was a pall over the room, nobody really sure as to what to do next. Except for Marcus. "I showed you guys, didn't I. Ain't nobody who will outbid me." It was Oliver who shook his head this time, meeting the younger man's defiant look.

"Well, let's try something else in the room."

"Nothing else in the room to buy." Marcus' words almost sounded like a sigh.

"How about the whisky bottle at the bar?"

"But we'd pay for that if we used it..."

"$25."

And so, another bidding war started, this time between Marcus and Oliver, but it didn't seem to have the same fire to it, as if permanent possession of it didn't matter as much. As Casey watched them, he leaned towards Kim. "Hmpf. If Marcus doesn't have anything to fight for, he's usually like this all night." He laughed. "Funny as hell to watch, though."

 

[sexxxtoy18]

Kim watched the young one take possession of her shoes like a strutting peacock, throwing in a bit of wannabe ghetto slang for good measure. She was surprised, mostly, by how ordinary it was, as if behind the money and the power, they were just men, like any other men. Or boys, maybe, in the case of the victor.

As if to prove her right, they were off again, bidding for a bottle that technically they already owned. She shook her head in dismay, with a bemused smile spreading across her face, as the one who had given her his chair leaned over and explained the young one's behavior. She smiled again. He was little older than a college boy, and maybe not so different. He still had that boiling energy and the need to prove himself to the big boys. All that, and more money than she could even think of. She wondered what he would do when he wanted to impress a girl. Take her to the Caribbean? Europe? Buy her cars or diamonds? Houses? That would make an impression, she thought.

She bit her lip as she realized that she was actually fantasizing about what he might give her. She knew what her uncle would tell her. These men were from a totally different class than they were. They would not be interested in being romantic with a girl like her. To them, she was just the help. If they wanted anything from her, it was just another service, and there was a word for girls who did that.

"Well," she said to the one on the arm of her chair. "I guess if he's got money to burn, there's no harm in it, is there?" She blushed. There was no harm in what? Bidding for a bottle? A pair of shoes? Or was she thinking of something else. Was the thought even exciting her a little.

She stood up quickly, and froze as the men turned to look at her.

"I should really ... um ... Let me just ... I'll get the bottle." She gritted her teeth as she started walking towards the bar, thinking what a complete idiot she must have sounded like. At the same time, she was aware that she was swaying her hips much more than she needed to. At the bar, she paused for a moment, waiting for her heart to slow down and trying to remember who she was and what this was all about. Just a catering job. She picked up the bottle and held it up like a prize as she walked back.

"So who's the lucky winner?"

 

[Bevatoria]

"Hundred.."

"One hundred twenty five."

"One fifty."

They were going back and forth, but it wasn't the same. They all knew the value of the bottle, the fact they'd already paid for it for the evening; there was nothing intangible about possession of it. Oliver had the money to burn, sure - they all did. It wasn't about just throwing away money just to flaunt it, there had to be a gain in doing so. Pride and bragging rights only meant something when they were taking something away.

Kim standing up distracted their attention from their half baked auction.

"I should really ... um ... Let me just ... I'll get the bottle." The catering girl turned away from them, her hips swerving a little too much to be unintentional, and far too little to be that of a woman intoxicated by liquor. The two men looked back at each other curiously as they all gazed on for varying amounts of time before turning away. As if her catching them doing so would ruin their sight.

"Two hundred?" Marcus' voice sounded very unconvincing as he threw out the final bid, and he made no motions for his bundle of cash. The guys all sipped tentatively, but Kim coming back seemed to boost their spirits.

"So who's the lucky winner?" For her part, Kim was displaying it like a prize item, and Marcus' smile returned, just for a moment, as he nodded. A half hearted motion for his money was interrupted by Casey, who merely patted the seat next to him for Kim. "We'll sort it out later." Another moment of silence passed, as Gerald shook his head.

"I wouldn't have paid $30 for it." The guys in the room all knew why, but Casey decided to clarify anyways.

"Because you don't drink the good stuff. It's not of value for you." sighed Casey, looking around at everyone there. "A basic market rule. Some things are more valuable then they are to others. My suit, while worth hundreds of dollars to me, and men like me-"

"And others who have no taste in fashion-"

Casey gave Oliver a hard look. "-wouldn't be as good for Gerald, because it doesn't fit him. Simple idea." Nervous fingers on the side of his glass, looking around uneasily.

"And that blouse Kim's wearing."

The innocent comment from Marcus seemed to raise the tension in the room as he continued. "What? We couldn't wear it, so it wouldn't be good for us." He took another long swig. "Same idea. We wouldn't pay as much for it because we can't use it."

He wasn't sure what possessed him in that moment to say anything - maybe to keep Kim from shifting around, even if he couldn't tell it if it was out of nervousness or anything - but Casey found it was his voice that raised first.

"I'd still pay forty dollars for it."

He had no idea of it was more then it was worth. Not among his many talents was fashion evaluation. The quick turn of Casey's head wasn't to anything she did, though. It was to Marcus' voice, staring back at him.

"Fifty-five."

Marcus' intense gaze seemed to have a mischievous smirk to it, and before Casey could respond, Timothy jumped in.

"Eighty."

Casey looked around carefully at the room, not daring to see what Kim was thinking. Whether she was flattered by the attention, by how much they thought her blouse was worth, or if she was waiting for them to keep on one-upping each other.

"A hundred." said Casey steely, looking at everyone in the room in turn. "Because in this case, the value of the item isn't just the fact that it's a blouse...." His eyes ended on Kim, in the chair next to him. "...the value is that it's on Kim right now." What went unsaid was that them possessing the item would mean that she no longer had it in her possession.

"One twenty-five."

Apparently, Marcus wasn't about to go down easy, even if it didn't turn out to be anything more then hypothetical.

 

[sexxxtoy18]

Kim sat down and poured more whisky for the men as they argued about the worth of things. She didn't pay much attention to their conversation, until she felt their attention turn abruptly back to her. She looked up, eyes wide as the men's eyes seemed to fix on her breasts. She flushed hotly, and then realized they were talking about her blouse now.

Even before Casey pointed out that the value wasn't that they could wear the blouse, she understood what they were bidding for. The numbers went back and forth and she stood up, not wanting to sit with Casey on the arm of her chair, hovering over her so possessively. This was different than before. Taking her shoes off had maybe been a little playful and flirty, but this went much further than flirting. This was undressing for a room full of men.

She blushed and looked down at the floor. It was a lot of money, and with her bra on, she wouldn't be any more exposed than she was when she went to the beach. She knew, deep down, that there was a vastly different quality to wearing a bikini at the beach and serving drinks in a hotel suite to a group of all men in her bra. The truth was that it excited her that these men were throwing their money at her this way. Ever since she had slipped her shoes off, she had felt a tight hunger that she knew was the beginning of arousal.

She shook her head, her eyes holding Casey's, and then glanced around the room as she reached down and untucked her blouse from her skirt, and undid the bottom button, baring a narrow glimpse of her flat tummy. She reached up to the next button, just below her breasts and then stopped.

"All this talk about what things are worth made me think," she said. She spoke slowly, carefully thinking about what she was saying. "One twenty-five for my blouse, but two hundred for a bottle of booze you already paid for? Sure, I took off my shoes for one twenty-five. Don't you think the blouse is worth more than that? Isn't it true that the seller can determine the value as well as the buyers?"

 

[Bevatoria]

With the bidding started, Casey's eyes were drawn to Kim as she stood up, seemingly uneasy being so close to him. He liked that, knowing her mind was going to places that seemed forbidden before, not settled by the prospect of having something of hers bid on like she wasn't there. The blush on her face, imagining the images coming into her mind as Casey hid the grin forming on his face behind his drink. Eventually, when Marcus got to one twenty-five, she stood up, untucking her blouse from her skirt.

Not a single male eye was not on her now, delicate hands unbuttoning the bottom button on her blouse, teasing the next one as she spoke.

"All this talk about what things are worth made me think," It was clear her words were being chosen deliberately, unlike the bids of the guys in the room as she spoke; Casey could swear he saw Marcus' eyes widen a bit at the prospect of seeing more then just the slight skin showing at the bottom of her stomach as she spoke. "One twenty-five for my blouse, but two hundred for a bottle of booze you already paid for? Sure, I took off my shoes for one twenty-five. Don't you think the blouse is worth more than that? Isn't it true that the seller can determine the value as well as the buyers?"

Uneasy looks passed between the guys. Gerald looked as calm as ever; Marcus a guy chomping at the bit, wanting someone to beat his bid so he could beat them; Oliver pretending to be uninterested while silently wishing she'd undo a button at the top of her blouse; Timothy seeming to ponder another bid, while wondering what the point would be.

Until Casey jumped in.

"Okay, Kim." He stood up, looming over her a bit as he stepped forward. "You can choose a role in setting the bar for what you think your 'blouse' is worth...but if we don't agree with you, we don't buy it." A smirk lit his face as he looked at the guys, all pretending to look at him as they gaped at Kim. He stepped a bit in front of her, meeting her gaze before he continued. "So you can undo another button every time you think it's appropriate...to give us a glimpse of what's coming, of course...and after the last one, you take it off and give it to the guy who made the last bid." Casey's gaze hardened, just a bit, even as the smiled. "But...you need an incentive, too." To show us more of your body. "So if you wait too long, the bid can be retracted...let's say the option exists after five seconds."

Casey gave her another look, to make sure she'd play along before turning back to his friends. Powerful, controlling men who's thoughts were all going in one direction...who's gazes, even as they did move elsewhere, were all focused on the young woman in the middle of the room. Clad, for the moment, in her blouse and skirt, while everyone in the room dreamed to various degrees about her in less.

"One sixty."

"Two hundred." Marcus' eyes flared, and the seconds counted in everyone's head - aside from a quick glance at Kim to see if she was inclined to undo another button - didn't get to two as another bid came out.

"Two thirty-two."

All eyes turned towards Gerald, who made the last bid. He was known to have a history of using weird numbers, and he shrugged. "Just wanted to throw you guys off." The old man's game didn't work, as Timothy quickly fought back.

"Two seventy."

"Three ten." Three seconds, and a glance to Kim, before a quiet, resolute voice rang out.

"Three seventy-five."

Oliver's first bid, and he cast a winning smile to Kim before Marcus shot back yet again.

"Four forty." The testosterone in the air as the men fought each other - and their own self control, were the truth to be told - was only exceeded by the increasingly greedy glances towards Kim, the young woman who had dared to put such naughty thoughts in their head, by pretending to go along with the idea of them bidding for her clothes. Who knew if this was a harmless game or something to go farther?

"Five hundred." Oliver, who sipped his drink easily while Marcus pondered another bid. "Surely that's enough to convince you to show us a little more, Kim?" He clinked his finger against the side of the glass, five seconds having been counted. "Come on, Kim. I could retract the bid, and you'll be left with nothing..." He looked at her daringly, the five hundred nothing to him but much, much more to her, daring her to rate the value of an partially undressed college girl in the middle of them; of men who could rent a whore for a night and think nothing of the cost the next day.

Something broke the reverie, the silence, whether it was Kim acquiescing, or another bid....