Then again, my Vincent's ensemble consisted of a black mini skirt, sleeveless tight white top and black stockings with knee high f**k me boots. It was another little dig at my secret profession that the other waitresses claimed how risqué the outfit was while I felt over dressed.
That outfit earned me good tips, damn good tips and perhaps if I chose between the mortgage or Paul's tuition, it-along with Paul's part time job-could get us by, but I wouldn't make that choice. If I did, the house would obviously be the thing to go, but then again wherever we went we'd have to pay rent, which would be cheaper, but still...
"Stop it." I said to my reflection, my head had been racing constantly lately, a direct result of going from only a couple of shoots a month my first three months back in po
