CHAPTER 6
A WEEK LATER, I tugged on my vintage-style pink dress in the back room of Rick’s Diner. It was a size too small, and the skirt was more suitable for working on a street corner than serving food. Still, the job paid in cash, and as long as I showed cleavage, Rick-the-pervert was happy to turn a blind eye to pesky things like my lack of social security number.
My name badge proclaimed me to be Brandy, with a squirly tail on the “y.” The pervert had given me the choice between Brandy, Mandy, or Sandy. Apparently, the customers ordered more food from waitresses whose names ended in “ee.”
“You’ll get yourself more tips as well, little lady,” he’d said, patting me on the bottom.
That had nearly got him castrated, but by thinking of Tabby, I’d managed to hold back. Besides, Brandy w
