<div style="text-align: right"><b><u>Friday Night</u></b>​</div>"But why not!?" Toby asked and looked at her with tears pouring down his face.<br/><br/>"Toby, I wish I could, darling," Gwen said, holding the letter that had been sent home with him that evening. "But, sweetheart,  it's a lot of money."<br/><br/>"I don't<b> CARE!"</b>As her son yelled at her, Gwen wanted, more than anything, to take the pain out of his voice. "Daddy would have said yes! He wasn't mean like you!! I wish he'd taken me with him!"<br/><br/>Gwen looked at him and felt a pain so exquisite she couldn't explain it. It ripped out her heart and tore it into strips, then put it back. She smiled at him, and spoke softly. "I can't promise anything, Toby, but I'll see what I can do, alright?" It was a school camp, everyone in his year was going and they'd all been paying for it since the end of the last school year - instalments (which she had to admit she couldn't afford) through the summer. So, add in the fact that it was - fundamentally -<i> pay it all, now, or he doesn't go</i>, and Gwen was stuffed.  "I'll see what I can do. I promise."<br/><br/>Mollified, Toby sniffled and nodded his head. Gwen opened her arms and wrapped him in a hug. "If I could, sweetheart, I'd give you everything. We'll be ok. I promise." She smiled at him and kissed the end of his nose. "I've got to go to work, Tobester. Mrs Quincey's here, and you be a good boy, ok?"<br/><br/>"She smells like beets," he said, sullenly. Fair to say, Gwen thought, that Toby didn't like Mrs Quincey.<br/><br/>"Toby Whitmore, you mind your manners, young man." It was the closest to stern that Gwen ever got, and he nodded. Pleased that he was listening to her, Gwen kissed him once more and then went to say thank you, once again, to the elderly neighbour who had babysat her when Gwen was young - Mrs Quincey had been the one who helped with the move, finding the place to live. Gwen insisted on paying her, though the woman would do it for nothing; as it was, Gwen knew that she was paying a minimum. So, she'd baked for Mrs Quincey, too. Lemon drizzle, her favourite cake.  The elderly woman had listened to the fussing young one and more or less shooed her out of her own apartment.<br/><br/>And so, she'd gone to her first shift. Mrs Quincey had said nothing about what Gwen was wearing - other than asking if she thought she might get cold. Gwen had grinned and shaken her head.<br/><br/><div style="text-align: right"><b><u>Saturday Night</u></b>​</div><u><br/>
The Fallen Angel</u>, where she worked, was everything Gwen had expected and more. As a member of the waiting staff, she was grabbed, groped, pinched and patted - and it was more than acceptable, it was<i> expected.</i>Gwen was far - far from happy, it had to be said, but she thought about Toby, put a smile on her face and served the drinks. At least, she considered, there was good music here. It was the end of her second shift and she had been called in to the Office. Mr Rhodes, the boss, wanted to see her. Gwen had played back the last two shifts in her head and she couldn't see that she'd done anything wrong, so she was just assuming, as she waited to be called in,  that this was fairly usual practice.<br/><br/>"Enter!"<br/><br/>Gwen breathed in, and turned the handle. Stepping in to the office, she smiled at Mr Rhodes, and tried not to think about why there were couches in here. She'd heard talking among the girls who waited tables, even in such a short time, but she chose to ignore it. It was just gossip, she was sure - or, in fact, she was far from sure, but she refused to believe it, so she was deluding herself and happy with that. "You wanted to see me, Mr Rhodes?"<br/><br/>Mr Rhodes - the owner of<u> The Fallen Angel</u>was an incredibly handsome man, and he knew it. Tall, chiselled, the man oozed arrogance. She hated men like Mr Rhodes, but he had all the power here, and he knew it. He smiled at her and Gwen looked at him with an expression which was carefully held in place. He didn't speak for a moment, leaning back against his large, mahogany desk. Gwen realised that the desk was largely empty and considered that it was probably not used like most desks, either.<br/><br/>Ergh.<br/><br/>"I've heard," he said, and Gwen felt heat flushing in her cheeks as he openly and unashamedly appraised her - his eyes trailed, slowly, over her and she felt her skin crawl at it. "That you've been quite the hit with the customers. Gwen... pretty little princess." Gwen said nothing, just kept her breathing even. He obviously wasn't finished yet and indeed, he kept talking. "So, I'm going to make you an offer you can't refuse, pretty Gwen." If he touched her, Gwen promised herself, she was going to make sure that he never sired any children. Children's services would look after Toby when she got jailed for murdering the creep, after all.  She smiled, apparently attentively, and just let him talk.<br/><br/>"We have a gig next weekend, you're working. You'll be waiting on general tables, and then, we have a private party with some important guests. So, you're going to be working there." Gwen nodded.<br/><br/>"Yes, Mr Rhodes," she replied. He smiled.<br/><br/>"Your uniform is there." Gwen frowned slightly - he was providing her with a uniform? She looked over and, when he bade her to do so, she moved over to the closet where he gestured. Hanging in there was .... well, it looked like a very short, very tight, very revealing LBD. There were black ankle boots, sheer nude stockings with a black lace top and a black garter. She turned to look at him and he nodded. "The clothes are in your size. I can tell. Now, as this is a ... special event, you'll be paid double. The guests will want to be kept happy,  pretty Gwen, but there's no suggestion that you have to sleep with anyone. Just...  well, you know."<br/><br/>She turned to look at him and all she could hear was Shiela - the girl who'd been here the longest and was - apparently - Mr Rhodes' favourite, explaining the best way to get a bit of extra cash, and her words were mingled with Toby's pleas, his wish that Paul had taken their son with him.  "I understand Mr Rhodes. I won't be sleeping with anyone, or staying awake with them come to that. But I'll make sure that - within the rules of no sexual favours - they're happy."<br/><br/>Karl Rhodes smiled. "Excellent," he said. "Here. Take this," with that he calmly handed her two weeks wages. "Have a manicure, pedicure, wax, whatever you like to do. You just look your best, pretty Gwen.  Buy a bra, too." Gwen raised her eyes to him her hand moving towards the money. "But no panties. They spoil the line."<br/><br/><div style="text-align: right"><i>"I wish he'd taken me with him!!"</i>​</div>She could hear Toby's voice. Straightening her back, Gwen nodded and took the money. "I understand, Mr Rhodes. But we're clear, where the limits are?"<br/><br/>"Sure, sweetheart," he said and his smile was predatory. Gwen nodded.<br/><br/>"Goodnight, Mr Rhodes," Gwen said, as she walked out.<br/><br/><div style="text-align: right"><b><u>Monday: School Pick-Up.</u></b>​</div>Gwen was feeling pretty good about things, she had to say. The money that Mr Rhodes had given her had, of course, been paid in to the school office this morning - the day had not dawned where Gwen Whitmore spent money on beauty treatments when her boy needed something. So, she'd just have to make do with home treatments and cheap knock-offs. But, she knew that she could pull it off. So, she had a bit of a spring in her step as she made her way into the after-care. Toby ran up to her and gave her a hug, then tugged her to see the 'to do list' he'd been making for the camp. It seemed to consist mainly of drawing of cookies, but Gwen was riding too high on being able to fund it to burst his bubble.<br/><br/>So, she was kneeling on the floor next to Toby, admiring his work, when he said - almost conversationally - "Mr Primeau and Miss Sinclair are dating. Rosalie told me." Gwen felt a strange, lurching sensation in her stomach and Rosalie Primeau, who was colouring in next to Toby, nodded with the sage wisdom only young children can ever manage. Gwen had waved to her when she got there and chatted with the little girl who was, frankly, delightful. "So, he's really not ever being your boyfriend now." Gwen really wished that, just once, Toby could think without speaking.... rather than the exact opposite which was his norm.<br/><br/>"Hey Mr P!" Apparently, that was Toby's compromise on the name thing. "Are you and Miss Sinclair dating?" Of course, Gwen thought to herself with an inward sigh. Of course he was here. Gwen was in a pair of battered and baggy jeans, and an old shirt. No make up and her hair was scraped back. DIY was nearly finished, but she needed to get it done and she'd been about to be late for pick up. Glancing up at Rosalie's father as he came in, she smiled but said nothing.<br/><br/>"Let Mr P and Rosalie say hello to each other, Toby. We good to go?" Please, thought Gwen. Let us be good to go.<br/><br/>"No, Ma," that was a new name. Gwen raised an eyebrow but said nothing. "Look. Do you like it?"<br/><br/>No, Toby, Gwen thought. I don't like it, I want to get out of here. Instead, she focused on her son and smiled, stroking his hair. "Yes, darling. It's beautiful." After Elijah had greeted Rosalie, Gwen gave him a bright and cheerful grin. "Hey, there. How are you doing? Hopefully, not expecting anything remotely like a private life around Whitmore Junior?" Why she was annoyed, Gwen didn't know - but what she did know was that she was damned if she was showing it to Elijah Primeau.<br/><br/>Or Miss Sinclair either.