Chapter Four
She was three hours into an eight-hour shift that had started at ten in the morning. Naomi couldn’t believe how jammed the place was for that time of day. Who could have known a bar would open that early and girls would be taking off their clothes for guys sitting in chairs, ogling them? It seemed as if half the patrons were oil workers with cash to throw away, hands that had no boundaries, and mouths that were downright shocking. It wasn’t as if Naomi hadn’t heard her share of rough language, bad words, and in fact she could spit out a few of her own, but it was as if these guys had forgotten everything their mothers had taught them, with hands that had touched and pinched her ass, slid up her thigh when she’d delivered a tray of drinks, and boldly tossed a few hundred her w
