At the Bar
Ricky hung back, letting Saint approach first and not at all attempting to push herself forward, despite Rob’s status as “her client.” She’d made no secret of the fact that she loathed his visits, and he’d certainly been vocal enough in his distaste for her, both in general, and in specific areas. They’d been a poor match since day one, but she’d been the only option for so long that they’d both had to knuckle under and deal with each other. Now though? Now, for the first time, there were other options. She didn’t even particularly care about the loss of income that losing him as a client would cause. If her new vamp kept overpaying her, then it more than made up for it. She’d take a little less cash, plus a little better reception, any day of the week. After all, it wasn’t like she needed the blood donor job to really make ends meet. She made more than enough these days off the standard Johns who just wanted her body, and couldn’t care less about what was going on inside of it.
Taking up a position behind Saint, just a little ways down the bar and in full view if Rob chose to look her way, Ricky leaned over in an absurdly obvious display. Jutting her hip just right, she let the fringe of her top hang down towards the floor, leaving a vast swath of skin, decorated with a lovely rendering of the grim reaper, completely exposed. She shot Rob a wink. If she played her cards right, not only would he be so turned off he’d drop her completely, but the little display might interest someone else in the crowd, and get her a little more enjoyable work for the evening.