But she had other things to occupy her mind, as she set out the starter. It was quite disconcerting to be watched attentively, unblinkingly. Not just by Karlsson, but by all his glossy crowd of rich-kid friends. (And Binky had to wonder, if she'd looked that way herself – invulnerable, blessed, charmed, infuriating – back when she would have qualified as one of them. No doubt. Probably waitstaff had resented her, too. She'd been too oblivious to care, then.)
Of course, guests were always attentive when you dished up. But they were usually looking at the food. These guys, their attention was trained on her so precisely, it was obvious that she would be the main topic of conversation as soon as her ass was back in the kitchens. Actually, her ass would probably come up first.
It wasn't unflattering. It was just a little unnerving. Well, a little bit creepy, perhaps. "Is there anything else I can get you to accompany your entrees, ladies and gentlemen?" she enquired, face a mask as she fought to keep her defences up. And she had a strong feeling it would be better not to know what this bunch were thinking, as they grinned and nudged each other – nudged Karlsson, if they were near enough.
YOU ARE READING
Gold Digger Label
RomanceBinky Huckstable has a number of problems. A ridiculous name, for one. Her genius I.Q. (Not always a blessing.) An arid, meaningless lovelife. Being the CPO - Chief Product Officer - of her family's billion-dollar company. Oh, and the upcoming...
