Surviving the Rich -Sunshine and Sir

Surviving the Rich -Sunshine and Sir

Status: In Progress

Genre: Erotica


Status: In Progress

Genre: Erotica


Living and breathing the daily life of catering to the wealthy was a practice in acting, and Rae had gotten very good at playing the part that was expected of her, and that part varied from guest to guest. She was constantly reminded of a line from one of her favorite films, "With the rich and mighty, always a little patience." That didn't make sense to her when she was younger, but now she lived by it, smile and nod and always have patience. Otherwise the rich would chew her up and spit her out, then move onto the next person. Patience taught her to survive and even flourish among the wealthy predators she navigated through on daily basis. And Killian Laird has taken notice.


Living and breathing the daily life of catering to the wealthy was a practice in acting, and Rae had gotten very good at playing the part that was expected of her, and that part varied from guest to guest. She was constantly reminded of a line from one of her favorite films, "With the rich and mighty, always a little patience."

That didn't make sense to her when she was younger, but now she lived by it, smile and nod and always have patience. Otherwise the rich would chew her up and spit her out, then move onto the next person. Patience taught her to survive and even flourish among the wealthy predators she navigated through on daily basis.

And Killian Laird has taken notice.

Chapter1 (v.1) - King of the Mountain

Author Chapter Note

Rae had never been comfortable with being the center of attention, and since she lost the weight, the wealthy men who used to look through her now couldn't take their eyes off her. Their newfound desire for her didn't make her feel attractive or beautiful, it made her feel like an object who's worth was reduced to whether or not a man got an erection. But she was smart, strong, and in dire need of money, so a smile and a little cleavage gave them the erection they wanted and got her the cash she needed. No harm no fowl. What she didn't expect, was Killian Laird witnessing it all.

Chapter Content - ver.1

Submitted: November 26, 2016

Reads: 8066

Comments: 2

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Chapter Content - ver.1

Submitted: November 26, 2016




  She could only take so much. Rae was doing her job, the smile in her eyes matching the one on her face. But the woman on the other side of the desk hadn’t taken her judgmental glare off Rae’s chest since coming inside the restaurant. She almost never wore revealing blouses, she didn’t enjoy the attention they brought, but the contempt in the woman’s eyes just pissed her off. Lucia wore booby shirts all the time and no one looked at her like she was excrement on their shoes. Men or women.

Keeping the smile plastered on her face Rae placed the credit card slip on the counter and handed the woman a pen. “If you’d just sign here Ma’am.”

The woman signed without a word, and Rae took the slip, handed over the receipt, and held out the small navy blue and gold bag filled with gift cards. The woman looked up, the contempt clear, and reached for the bag.

Rae grinned ear to ear and in a voice dripping with saccharine said, “Have a wonderful evening and happy holidays.”

“Merry Christmas,” the woman said, pointing a finger in her face.

“And happy Chanukah,” Rae said, without skipping a beat. “I’m Jewish.”

She wasn’t, and while her very pale Irish skin, framed by long thick strawberry-blond curls, made people squint, they didn’t argue. Being confronted by a possible Jewish person always threw the war on Christmas people for a loop. Some of them got quite hostile when restaurant employees did their job and said happy holidays. Apparently Jesus would’ve been very insulted at other faiths and beliefs being included in holiday well wishes. The woman paused, for the first time looking uncertain.

Rae kept up the sweetness and said, “From your Jewish neighbors and friends, have a very merry Christmas and a happy new year.”

The woman gave her a curt nod and left. Laughter erupted from the coatroom, which was right next to the host desk. Rae looked at Lucia and Kelsey, who were both holding their stomachs they were laughing so hard.

“Mazel tov.”

Rae’s heart dropped and Lucia and Kelsey disappeared into the bowels of the coatroom. Ryan, one of the floor managers, walked around the corner with a disapproving look on his face, although he couldn’t keep the mirth from his eyes. “I had no idea you were Jewish Rae. How was your Chanukah this year?”

“Good,” she replied. “Thanks for asking.”

He stood next to her, checking the list of remaining reservations on the other monitor. “I shouldn’t have to tell you how wrong that was. What if she complained?”

“They never do,” she said. He looked at her taken aback and she smiled. “Hello, welcome to the Hillcrest. Two this evening?”

Ryan was forced to turn his attention to the new guests. He smiled, his profile that of a college quarterback, with the softened edges that only came with family life. They were the same age, but his clean cut looks and boyish smile made him appear younger. Not that she looked her age, at thirty-two she looked around twenty-eight, some people still guessed younger. She attributed it to round cheeks and the Irish skin she was forced to hide from the sun growing up.  

Kelsey took the guests to their table while Lucia got coats for those leaving. It was a team effort, and they split the tips evenly, which on Christmas Eve would give them each an additional two hundred dollars, possibly more. The Hillcrest was a lucrative hosting job. Located on the outskirts of the mall, it was a high-end steak house where the elite came to dine. Wine lockers were on both sides of the foyer so they were the first sight, other than the host desk, that greeted patrons when they walked through the revolving door. Gold plated names were on the bottom of each locker, a status symbol, and a guarantee of treatment above and beyond what others received. Surrounded by corporate offices and investment firms, the mall’s traditional stores had been pushed out in favor of boutiques for those with mountains of disposable income. The owners of The Hillcrest picked this location to give that disposable income a place to disappear, with food, wine, cigars, and services designed for their target demographic.

Living and breathing the daily life of catering to the wealthy was a practice in acting, and Rae had gotten very good at playing the part that was expected of her, and that part varied from guest to guest.

Out of the corner of her eye, Rae caught Ryan glancing at her. “You look nice today.”

She bit back the sarcastic retort. Cleavage equaled looking nice, she hoped his wife was aware of that.  “Thank you,” she said, as neutrally as she could. Not knowing why she really expected anything better from him.


Rae reached for the ringing phone but Ryan beat her to it. “Bastard,” she said, under her breath.

He grinned and went through the spiel. She kept her gaze fixed on the computer, wishing she hadn’t given in to Paul’s request.

“Where are my beautifuls?”

Lucia came out of the coatroom a bright smile on her face. “Let’s go,” she said, out of the corner of her mouth.

Without looking up Rae said, “Do I have too?”

Kelsey walked around the desk and disappeared into the coatroom saying, “Seasonal is good. The big bad wolves don’t even see me.”

They didn’t used to see Rae either. She was a lot heavier when she started at The Hillcrest, and some of the men literally looked through her like she wasn’t there, while others had been cold and distant. They all adored her now, giving her the same attention they gave Lucia, and it didn’t make her feel attractive. It made her feel like a thing. Her worth in their eyes was crystal clear.

A mountain suddenly blocked the overhead light. At six foot four Paul Davies dominated every space he was in, not only with his size, but with his deep vibrant voice. He and his partner owned a construction company with their hands in everything, and they were wine locker holders. They’d brought their employees in for a holiday luncheon and then retreated to the lounge with a group of their buddies, drinking and smoking cigars. The day before, Paul asked if she’d wear a special blouse for him so he could get a photo of her and Lucia with the magnum of wine he’d purchased for Christmas. Special meaning more revealing than anything he’d seen her in before. She’d hemmed and hawed, and he promised her if she did, he’d give her a hundred dollars on top of the hundred he already gave her. She needed the money, her cell phone, electric, gas, and car insurance were past due, her husband Jimmy’s bills were sucking up every penny they had, and she still had to get some last minute presents for her daughter Reagan. A little cleavage seemed like a small price to pay.

“Time to make a memory beautiful,” Paul said, taking a gulp of scotch.

“I thought you were calling Ryan,” she said, straight-faced.

“While Ryan’s a beauty,” Paul said, putting an arm around her shoulders. “He isn’t one of my beautifuls.”

Ryan covered the phone with his hand and said, “Right back at you big guy.”

Paul started leading her towards his group in the center of the lounge. The bar was along the wall on the right, while on the left were the lounge tables and booths. Dark wood paneling covered the walls, while the booths and chairs were a slightly lighter wood with navy blue leather seats. Around fifty people could comfortable sit in the lounge, and every table was taken and the bar full. Lucia was already posing for photos, loving the attention. Rae tried to look as confident and nonchalant, and on the outside she pulled it off, but inside she was screaming. She didn’t like being the center of attention.

Paul’s business partner smiled sympathetically, but his nice guy act only made her nauseous. At least Paul was upfront with his lechery, and for the most part, harmless. His business partner had always seemed like the long suffering good guy putting up with his overbearing friend’s behavior. He had them all fooled until one of the bartenders told them what he said when they were out of ear shot. Knowing how he degraded them, how he really saw them was heartbreaking, and another lesson in looking beyond the façade, especially with these men.

“Come here darling,” Paul said, chewing on the end of his cigar. Lucia smiled and slid an arm around his back. He tightened his embrace grinning ear to ear. “Smile my beautifuls!”

Rae smiled for the cellphones, trying to pretend everyone’s eyes weren’t on them. Paul’s friends were joking around and generally beginning to act like frat boys. She was grateful her shift ended soon. Their behavior was only going to get worse.

Paul led them to the magnum of cabernet, enjoying himself immensely. “Lucia on the right and Rae on the left. Scooch closer and rest your hands on your thighs.”

Rae exchanged quick glances with Lucia, ready to tell everyone to fuck off, but Lucia gave her an almost imperceptible shake of her head. Smile and nod, that was their mantra for dealing with the outlandish demands of their patrons, just smile and nod. They both got as close to the wine as they could and rested their hands on their thighs. Lucia’s low cut grey dress left little to the imagination, and while Rae was in black pants, her form fitting black blouse accentuated her waist and breasts, showing off her body in a way the fat girl within could barely stay put for.

Paul stood behind the magnum with a glass of wine and toasted the holiday, getting responses from all over the lounge. He downed half the glass then rested his hands on their shoulders. “Killian! Is this a gorgeous sight or what?”

Sitting in the back corner booth, Killian Laird gave him a nod and a smile. His gaze shifted to her and she ducked her head in embarrassment. Always courteous and respectful, Killian had the highest expectations when he dined, and everyone bent over backwards to meet them. He rewarded that devotion generously, and always had a smile and a kind word for her. He was one of the few lounge patrons who treated her like a person before she dropped to a size nine from a size eighteen. She’d come to respect him over the past couple years, and to see that glimmer of disappointment in his eyes cut into her waning self-respect even further.

Ryan came to their rescue, apologizing profusely, but insisting he needed them back at the desk. She wanted to throw her arms around his neck and thank him. They locked gazes briefly and he gave her small smile.

Paul gave Lucia a hug and kiss on the cheek, and then engulfed Rae in his arms. “Thanks beautiful. You made my Christmas.”

He gave her a kiss on the cheek and palmed her a hundred dollar bill. She smiled in return and said, “You know we love you big guy.”

“Everyone does!” he exclaimed.

“Everyone but your wife!” one of his friends yelled, and the others laughed.

Rae walked back to the host desk pocketing the hundred dollar bill. It was just cleavage and a smile, they knew they’d never get anything more from her. But they liked her, and cash was how they showed it. Her holiday bonuses made December her highest earning month, and this year she was getting double, and in some cases triple, the money she’d gotten her two previous holidays at The Hillcrest. That ache in her heart flared and she glanced in the mirror as she passed. She worked hard to lose the weight, and it paid off, in a myriad of ways. She silently tallied what she’d made, feeling a bit better. She was approaching a thousand dollars over a three day period, that helped.

Her gaze darted to the back booth and she saw Killian on his phone. Their eyes met and that ache throbbed more fiercely. It shouldn’t matter what he thought, she could care less what most of them thought of her. But Killian was different, she stood straighter when he came through the door, and walked with her head high and a sway in her hips. He was attractive, in a conventional way she’d never been particularly drawn too, with brown hair cut in the standard professional power style, and flawless creamy skin that was always clean shaven. He was older than she was and his complexion almost put hers to shame. At six foot one, the three piece tailored suits he favored, accentuated his fit and trim physique making him appear even taller. He had a firm but not overbearing handshake, and walked and spoke with a confidence that others tried their whole lives to cultivate. To him it came naturally, and his eyes reflected it; two dark brown pools of power telling everyone instantly that Killian was king of the mountain.

She and the other hosts joked about the never ending struggle to be king of the mountain. They may not be physically throwing each other off a hill, but they were doing it every other way possible. Money was a huge signifier of status, but so was job title, investment portfolio, and business, political, and social connections. Even their relationship with the employees of The Hillcrest set them apart. The majority of the men who walked through the door wanted to be catered too, but they also wanted to be loved and adored, and their money guaranteed they would be. That was what set Killian apart, take away the money and he’d still be the most powerful man in the room. His power didn’t come from money, it only compounded it. After studying the masters of the universe in their natural habitat for years, she’d realized early that stripped of their cash they’d be nothing, and they knew it. So the pecking order was important, the competition ongoing, who was on top shifting depending on the circumstances.

“I want one of those photos,” Ryan said, snapping her out her reverie.

She smacked his arm and said, “You’re a married man with kids.”

He grabbed his arm and said, “So is Paul.”

“Be better,” she said. “Please.”

“Alright, alright,” he said, holding his hands up. “I promise to try.”

He walked away, but whispered in Lucia’s ear before disappearing. She looked at the lounge and tried not to smile.

“What now?” Rae asked, heading for the coatroom to get her things.

“He said your boyfriend wasn’t thrilled with the show.”

“He needs to stop with that,” Rae said, annoyed. “Mr. Laird does not have a thing for me. It’s weird and just wrong.”

“Why?” Lucia asked. “He’s good looking, successful, rich-”

“Thirteen years older, and not my type,” Rae said. “I’m married, and not his type either. You’ve seen the women he dates. Do they look a thing like me? No, not in the slightest. So please don’t feed into Ryan’s delusional gossip.”

“Mr. Laird always wants to talk to you on the phone,” Lucia said. “You’re his favorite.”

Rae smiled and said, “Which annoys the hell out of you because you’re usually everyone’s favorite.” Lucia took a playful swing at her, and Rae laughed. “And I’m only his favorite because I’m the host he first dealt with. If you’d been the one here that day, you’d be his favorite. It’s as simple as that.”

Rae glanced at the back booth, and once again their eyes met. She looked away quickly, her heart racing. She was married, and Killian really wasn’t her type, but he had an almost visceral effect on her. She couldn’t deny that, at least to herself. She’d never been drawn to power, she knew too well the weakness that was at center of so many powerful men, and it repelled her. But Killian threw everyone else off the hill with a glance, claiming kingship without a word. She’d fantasized about him, and that was fine, fantasies were harmless, especially among the rich and powerful. It was reality where caution was required, they had a tendency to crush people like her that got caught in their orbit.

© Copyright 2019 Lucinda Paige. All rights reserved.


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