After Her Read Online Free PDF Page A

evening. What can I get you all for drinks?”
    The table lulls to a whisper as one blonde guy, who I recognize from my Calculus class, leans forward with his menu. This one is Cameron Blake, star football player with a nose I’ve wanted to break since the last time he and his friends ate here. I discard that unpleasant memory from mind to preserve my customer-friendly smile.
    “Where is your beer menu?” Cameron asks.
    “I'm sorry sir, but we can’t and won’t sell beer to minors,” I say through clenched teeth. “You’re two years short of adulthood. I can get you and your friends some soda or water. Which do you prefer?”
    Cameron rolls his eyes and scoffs at me as if he can’t believe my audacity in denying him a beer. I struggle to retain the smile on my face, but I can’t imagine this tiresome song and dance lasting for long. He whispers to the guy sitting beside him. I remain in place, gripping my notepad, forcing this idiotic grin and praying that he’ll just order his damn food and not give me any trouble.
    “Wait, I know you,” says Cameron. “You’re Grace, right? From my Calculus class?”
    “Cassandra, actually, but that’s not the point,” I say. “Do you want to order or not? I have other customers to tend to.”
    Cameron belches a laugh and I feel my smile waning.
    “Your friend is hot,” he says. “And you’re not so bad looking either. Is it true you that still have your cherry?”
    I blush at his lewd response and somehow resist the urge to stab him in the eye with my pen as professionalism and the overwhelming need to keep my job overtakes me. I can’t afford to lose this job. I'm strapped for cash and this asshole will not get the best of me.
    “Do you know what you want to order?” I reply through clenched teeth. “Or not?”
    “You’re the one browsing the menu,” he says. “You tell me. Which of us are you going serve tonight?”
    I glower at him, certain now that my customer friendly smile won’t remain much longer. Just as I'm about to dive across the table to throttle him, someone replies, “Such rude little boys. Who on earth forgot to teach you manners?”
    We all react to the voice and gawk at the woman it belongs to. She struts toward the table like a predatory animal with her head held high, an arctic gleam in her eyes and a very expensive looking purse on her shoulder.
    She wears a skintight dress, clearly meant to wear at some elegant gala. Her brown hair sits atop her head in a beehive style with ringlets framing her face. Compared to me, clad in my dirtied apron, lopsided ponytail and scuffed Converses, she’s completely overdressed.
    “Are they bothering you, dear?” she asks me. I'm too speechless to reply, so I only nod. She glares at each of the boys like a mother shaming them all in front of the crowded restaurant.
    “I wish parents would teach their sons how to treat a lady,” she says after wrapping her arm around my shoulders. “Which one of you is making my daughter uncomfortable?”
    “Your daughter?” I mouth and she winks at me, expecting me to go along with this charade.
    “You realize that verbal remarks are just as felonious as physical assault. Cassandra is within her rights to report you all for sexual harassment. I know you don’t want that dirty little stain on your college records. Do I have to call my lawyer?”
    Cameron stares Vivian down before lurching out of his chair and retreating toward the exit without a fuss. His friends soon follow like sheep behind their shepherd then Vivian adds, “And boys? If Cassandra ever mentions that you’ve been harassing her, I’ll have no choice, but to insist she press charges.”
    All twelve guys leave in a huff, slamming the door behind them so hard that the glass shatters from the frame. Frank rushes from behind the counter about ready to go into an anger fueled rant until Vivian reaches into her expensive purse, pulls out several hundred bills and hands them to him.
    “I'm sorry