Mr Salt walks to his table. Steve turns around to me slowly, his brown eyes wide and his face flushed. He opens and closes his mouth a few times then shakes his head.

"Are you mad?" he whisper shouts at me.

"There are people waiting," I say calmly and gesture to the bar. Steve sighs and rubs his temple.

"We're going to have a serious chat about this after service," he warns.

"Steve," I say, looking into his eyes. "I will be fine. I can deal with men like him. I have been all my life."

"You scare me," Steve says and turns around, shaking his head. By the time he has reached the customers, the charming smile is back on his face and his voice is cheery. I pick up one of the fancy-shaped glass water jugs and take in a deep breath. Just before I leave the bar, I square my shoulders and prepare myself.

Mother's voice rings loudly in my mind.

"There is a group of men I like to call Fat Politicians. These will be the easiest targets you will ever have to seduce. Most of the time, you don't even have to let them touch you. You see, men who fall into the Fat Politician category like to think they are powerful. So, when someone comes along, someone beautiful, someone 'pure', someone more intelligent who doesn't cower or bend to their power, they can't resist the challenge. They want to break you. They want to fuck you. They crave you and the more you work them, the more they'll do anything to have even a small part of you. Play it right, and they'll give you their world just for you to give them a slight pat on the shoulder."

I gulp back any doubts and push forward. I have seen first-hand the way mother bent politicians to her will. Sometimes, it only took a few words and they'd be giving into her every demand. I remember seeing the glee on her face every time she got back from one of those meetings.

Well, now it's my turn to play.

I briefly pass a mirror on my way to the VIP section. I catch a glimpse of my reflection. The smile on my face is calm, natural, and effortless. My blue eyes look bright and sparkling beneath the subtle bronze eye makeup. The pink shimmer on my lips makes them look full and plump.

"This is who I was talking about," Mr Salt says as I approach the table.

"Mr Salt," I say, smiling widely. "Water?"

"Yes please," he grins. I effortlessly pour the water into the crystal water glass.

"And you sir?" I ask his guest.

"Yes," he replies, and I repeat the action. I can feel Mr Salt's eyes on me, but I ignore it. Instead, I focus on the guest. I reckon he is in his mid-forties. A slender man, his features are freakily sharp and his glare cold.

"Can I get you anything else to drink?" I ask and pull out a little tablet to take the orders.

"Tell me, what wines do you have?" Mr Salt asks, his eyes twinkling with arrogance.

The other man sighs. "Leaver her alone, Gareth. She is clearly new. I'll just have the house red please."

"She's a smart girl, Owen. I'm sure she knows how to do her job," he replies, not looking away from me.

"Of course," I reply. "Do you know what you are eating tonight? That way I can point you to the wines that will best suit your dinner?"

"Oh, so you're a sommelier now too, huh?" he asks. I laugh, the sound coming out genuine and cheerful.

"You think too highly of me," I reply and shake my head. "I only know the basics."

"Tell me then, Ivy, what wine should I have if I am having fish?" he asks, raising a very long-haired grey eyebrow.

"Well, for that I would recommend white wine, specifically the Nelopola or the Grand Farano."

"And for steak?" he asks.

"A red. Perhaps the Mirilan, or the Havilto."

"Hmmm," he replies and nods his head. "And if I say I am having a steak, rare, seasoned with basic salt and pepper and served with a peppercorn sauce, what flavour notes should I look for in a wine that would perfectly match?"

I laugh. "That is beyond my knowledge, sir," I say. "I can get you the sommelier if you would like?"

"No no no," he chuckles and waves his hands in the air. "I was just teasing." His laugh comes out more of a wheeze and the sound makes my toes curl.

"For goodness sake man, can you just order?" Owen growls.

"Fine fine," Mr Salt says and rolls his eyes. He opens up the menu and hums as he pretends to look through it.

"I'll take the house red too," he finally replies.

"Excellent choice sir, and for your food?"

They both order their starters and mains and I put the tablet away.

"I'll be back with your drinks very soon," I say.

"Yes, do hurry," Mr Salt replies as I walk away. Once out of his sight, I shudder.

By the time I get to the bar, Steve is already pouring the second glass of red wine, the order having gone through to his computer when I clicked it on the tablet.

"It's ready," he says.

"Thanks," I reply and stand there for a few moments.

"Er, aren't you going to take it?" he asks.

"No."

"You can't keep a man like Mr Salt waiting," he says with a scared laugh. I smile calmly.

"Watch me," I reply.

Mother's words swirl back in my mind.

"You don't want to come across too eager. Make them wait, give them longer to think about you when you aren't there. Make them know that they aren't the centre of your world and that whilst they are fretting and thinking about you, they are the last thing on your mind."

"Ivy," Steve says. "What are you doing?"

I pick up the tray and smile at him. "Relax, Steve," I assure him. "Mr Salt will survive his wine being a minute late."

Steve narrows his eyes at me and I grin cheekily. He shakes his head and turns to make the next order that is coming through on his system.

I balance the tray effortlessly with one hand as I walk back to the VIP section.

"Two house reds," I say, putting the glasses down in front of them.

"How do you balance that so well?" Mr Salt asks.

"Practice," I reply with a friendly laugh.

"I thought you were new."

"New here, sir. I've worked at restaurants before." The lie comes out of my mouth with effortless ease.

"Ah," he says and grins and I try not to squirm at the sight of his grotty yellowing teeth.

"Yes, she's a very talented waitress. Can you let the poor girl go, she has other tables to serve?" Owen hisses. I smile politely at him.

"Yes," Mr Salt says, his eyes very obviously looking at my legs in the smart black trousers which cling slightly to my thighs. "She does seem like a woman of many talents." He grins as though it is the funniest joke he's ever heard.

Owen sighs behind me.

I smile at Mr Salt charmingly. "I am," I agree, looking into his eyes, "but I'm sure none of those talents are of interest to you."

He gulps and licks his dry lips. "I would love to hear all about y-"

"I'll let you get back to work," I say, interrupting him. Mr Salt stammers behind me and I laugh to myself.

More VIPs join my section and I start to take their orders. Every now and then, Mr Salt tries to catch my attention. I smile at him and give him a signal that I'll be with him soon. His face gets a little bit redder with every rejection. I only leave him for a minute or so as I pretend to do another job for a different table. It is enough to put him in a slight temper.

"Don't you know how this works, girl, when I call, you answer?" he huffs as I get to the table. I laugh calmly.

"I'm sorry I have upset you, Mr Salt. But I pride myself on making sure that all my customers get an equal experience. How would you feel if I just stopped the task I was doing for you because another customer called me over?" I ask, my voice innocent. Owen chuckles and Mr Salt gulps and looks away from me.

"Now, I'm here. What can I do for you, sir?" I ask. He clears his throat awkwardly, still not sure what to do with himself after someone, a woman no less, told him off.

"How long until our starters get here?" he stammers.

"I am sure they'll be ready at any moment. Let me go and check for you."

***

The rest of my time serving Mr Salt passes quickly. He doesn't make many more inappropriate jokes or call for me whilst I am serving other people. I do feel his eyes watching me wherever I go. I am also extra nice to all the other customers around me, making sure that Mr Salt can see me laughing and joking around with them. I even go so far as to calmly touch a few shoulders or upper arms of some of the customers who I seem to have a little more friendly banter with, knowing that Mr Salt will be watching.

Every now and then, I make sure to walk past whilst the two are leaning a little closer together, deep in conversation.

"The man is mad, but he gets the job done, that's for sure. No one saw what that traitorous bitch was doing for too long. Not until he came in."

They're talking about Marcus and the woman he arrested at the MOD. I grit my teeth in frustration. I want to listen to more, but I can't just stand around listening. I decide to approach.

"Are you ready for dessert?" I ask, interrupting. They stop their conversations immediately.

"Very," Mr Salt grins and looks me up and down. I pretend not to understand what he really means.

"Great, what can I get for you?" I ask and they both say their orders.

"Perfect, they'll be ready soon," I say and smile at the pair.

"Thank you, Ivy," Mr Salt says, a little flustered and not sure how to react to me.

"Ivy," he begins as I start to walk away.

"Yes, sir?" I ask.

"Stop with the sir, girl, call me Gareth," he grins. I frown.

"Isn't that a little unprofessional?" I ask.

"Unprofessional would be saying no to my request," he half-jokes.

"Very well, Gareth," I reply. "What else can I get for you?"

"I'm going to be coming back next Wednesday evening. Will you be working then?" he asks.

"I believe so," I reply, "why?"

"No reason," he replies and flicks his hand to tell me to go away.

When I approach with their desserts, they are back in deep conversation. I put their food down in front of them and the pair jump slightly. "There you go," I say.

"They look delicious, thank you, Ivy," Owen says, forcing a smile.

"Yes, they do," Mr Salt says, his eyes staring directly into mine. I repress my shudder. Instead, I gloss over his comment as though I don't understand it.

"They're new to the menu. I tasted them myself last week. You are both in for a treat," I grin and turn before he can say anything else. I stop just around the corner and move so I'm standing at the wall just behind their table. I crouch down, pretending to pick something up off the floor.

"He's unpredictable," Owen argues.

"He gets the job done. Who cares about any collateral damage?" Mr Salt smears.

"The press for one."

"Only if they find out. Just cover it up as we always do," Mr Salt orders. "Or, even better, blame it on the Second Realm. Fuel the fire. The angrier the people are, the quicker we can begin the invasion process."

My stomach sinks, but I force myself to focus.

"Illegal invasion process," Owen corrects.

"Not for long," Mr Salt replies and laughs.

I stand, knowing that hanging around here too long will be suspicious. As I go back to the bar, I feel my stomach flutter.

"Are you okay, Ivy?" Steve asks, obviously seeing my slightly pale face.

I nod my head and force on a smile. "Repulsive old man," I laugh.

"Well, I tried to warn you."

"Yeah, I know," I sigh. "I'm stuck with him now. He's asking if I'm working next week."

"I can move your shift if you want," he says. Absolutely not. If he's already spilling this much, just imagine what I could get him to reveal.

"No, that's okay. I don't mind dealing with him from now on. Just put me on his section whenever he comes in."

"That's brave," Steve laughs.

"Better me than some of the other girls who aren't very comfortable with his comments."

"The boys can still do it," he says.

"You know he'll just demand another waitress," I sigh. "I mean it, Steve, let me deal with the old pervert. I really don't mind. I can handle it."

He shakes his head. "Okay," he says, holding up his hands. "If you really want to."

"Well, I don't want to," I tell him and slap him playfully. "But it's not too bad. It's kind of easy really."

"You're something else," Steve laughs. I wink at him and go back to my section to serve the other customers there.

Eventually, I bring over the very large bill to Mr Salt's table.

"So, Ivy," Mr Salt begins as he looks over the receipt, "how much do you think you deserve for a tip?" he asks, raising a brow. Owen sighs and pulls some cash out of his wallet.

"Here, just take this," he says and puts it in my hand. "Pay the bill and let's go old man. Stop harassing the poor girl."

"Ivy can handle it. In fact, I'm sure she'd do anything for an extra tip," he smirks. I laugh and look at Owen.

"Thank you, you're very kind," I say and make sure to touch his shoulder. I only do it for a second in a friendly, grateful gesture. But it is enough to make Mr Salt pause. I turn back to him and smile.

"Are you paying with cash or card?" I ask Mr Salt.

"Er, card," he stammers. I pull out a card machine and hold it out to him. He presses a few buttons and then taps his card on it, pulling it away after it beeps. Owen stands and lets out a breath of relief, seemingly desperate to get out of here.

"Oh, Ivy, you wouldn't mind helping an old man out," Mr Salt says, gesturing to his fancy black coat. I laugh.

"You're a nimble man, Gareth. I'm sure you can manage," I grin cheekily at him. He laughs awkwardly and then pulls on his coat.

"There we go, do you want me to walk you out?" I ask and gesture to the door. Owen starts walking ahead.

"I'm glad you had a wonderful evening, Gareth," I tell him. Then, I lower my voice, so Owen can't hear. "But I do not appreciate the comments you made."

Mr Salt pauses, and I smile charmingly and urge him to continue walking. "If you make such comments again, then I will refuse to serve you and I will put in a complaint to your department," I warn. He stammers for a few moments, his face flushing deep red.

We reach the entrance and I open the gleaming glass doors for him. He looks at me, his expression shocked, as though he never imagined someone could actually threaten him. Not that it is much of a threat. I smile charmingly.

"I so look forward to seeing you on Wednesday," I say and wink at him as he leaves. He gulps and nods his head quickly before scuttling away. As soon as he is out of sight, my smile drops. I grit my teeth in frustration and fear. They are coming for the second realm. Perhaps, their attack will be sooner than I thought.

My hands ball into shaking fists and my thoughts swirl in a rush. I have to figure out a way to speed everything up before it's too late.

"Wow, Ivy, what did you do?" Steve asks, interrupting me. I raise my brows and turn to face him, pushing all thoughts about war out of my head for the time being.

"What?" I ask. He pulls up his screen.

"Mr Salt just left you a missive tip."

"Really?" I ask and go and inspect the screen. "Woah," I say and grin. He left me 150 Krenda. Satisfaction spreads through me and my smile widens.

Perhaps this will be easy after all.