"Hey, waitress. Why is this wine warm?"
A balding middle-aged man stepped into my path. His hand was already reaching for my waist.
I flinched back on instinct.
"Oh, playing hard to get?"
Samuel Lambert's face twisted with irritation, and he seized my wrist.
"Everyone here knows exactly what you are. How much for a night? Name your price."
"Let go."
I tried to wrench free.
"Drop the act! Back when you were the Graves family princess, I wouldn't have dared. But now? You're nothing but yesterday's trash!"
The crowd watched like it was dinner theater. Not a single person stepped forward. Someone let out a long, low whistle.
That was when Vivienne glided over.
"Mr. Lambert, what's the matter? Did this server forget her manners and upset you?"
Samuel's scowl melted into an oily grin.
"Oh, Miss Graves, I just wanted a drink, and this girl couldn't be bothered to serve me."
Vivienne turned to me. Every trace of warmth vanished from her face.
"Stella. Mr. Lambert is one of the Graves family's biggest clients. You think you can give him attitude?"
She snatched an unopened bottle of red wine from a passing attendant and slammed it down on the table.