Samson.
In her past life, she had turned him down flat—rejected his money, his offer, his smug confidence. But this wasn't her past life. Not anymore.
This time, she had mouths to feed, bills to pay, and a crumbling house to hold together.
She approached the table slowly, apron tied neatly, a soft smile playing on her lips. "Yes, sir. Can I take your order?"
He grinned, eyes lighting up with recognition. "Call me Samson."
She blinked, tilting her head just slightly. "Alright... Samson."
"You have a lovely face, you know that?" His eyes trailed down her body unapologetically. "You look innocent. I like that."
She tensed, but forced her smile to stay. Her mind screamed, Here we go. Out loud, she said, "Do you want to order something?"
He leaned forward, lowering his voice. "I'll have whatever you're serving... and maybe you, later. I've got a thing for shy girls."
There it is, she thought.
She tilted her head again, eyebrows lifting slightly as she leaned forward too, lowering her voice to match his. "And do you have the financial capability to care for shy girls? Or is this just a hobby for you?"
That made him pause. He hadn't expected her to throw the line back. He smiled wider, intrigued. "I like that. You've got a bit of fire in you."
Then came the move she remembered all too well. He slipped a crisp £100 note across the table toward her. "You just made in one minute what you'd make in a week here. Imagine what you'd get if you spent one night with me."
Her fingers hovered above the note, but didn't touch it. She looked at the money, then up at him.
"That's it?" she asked softly.
Samson's smile faded a touch. "What do you mean?"
She stood straight, folding her arms. "That's all I'm worth to you? A hundred pounds?"
He chuckled, clearly amused now. "So now you're offended?"
"I'm here to work," she said flatly, turning as if to walk away.
One... she started counting in her head, taking a step away. Two... Three...
Her heart thudded. Four... If he doesn't call me back by five, I'm picking that damn money off the table and pretending he dropped it.
Five...
"Wait."
She stopped.
"Please come back. I'm sorry"
Sarah turned slowly, controlling her face into a look of reluctant curiosity. Her heart was dancing, but her steps were calm.
He reached into his wallet again, pulled out more notes, and laid down £400. Then he scribbled something on a napkin and slid it across. "My number."
She looked at the money but didn't touch it yet.
"You're smarter than the others," he said. "Play your cards right, I'll take care of you. That's what you want, right? New clothes, phone that works, maybe even help your family."
She offered a small smile. "I'm still here to work."
"You can do both," he said casually, leaning back. "Multitasking is sexy."
She picked up the napkin first, folded it carefully, and tucked it into her apron. Then, without looking at him, she picked up the money.
"Anything to eat?" she asked, her voice smooth now.
Samson grinned. "Steak and chips. And a Coke."
She nodded, already walking toward the kitchen, her heart pounding. You did it, Sarah. You just did it.
But her face gave nothing away.
Not yet.
And certainly not to him.