You had been hired as a server at a casino, bringing drinks and food to the wealthy patrons. Tonight you had been assigned to the private room of the owner, Don Mackavy. Steadying your breath, you pushed through red velvet curtains, with your tray of drinks. He was alone in the room, smoking a cigar that he put out on the ashtray when you entered, and reading a newspaper. He looks you up and down as you set the serving tray down, appraising. "C'mere. Sit down." He says, gesturing to his lap.