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In late March, Scott told me to get there a little early and when I
did, he handed me an outrageous outfit. It was a skirt, too short for
anybody, a T-shirt top, scooped low and wide in the front, and very high
heels.
“Put these on, Patti. I’m having some friends over to watch
basketball, and you’re going to be our waitress.”
I definitely didn’t like the sound of that, after my experience with
Sean. “Scott, please don’t make me do this. I don’t want to entertain
your friends — just you. I’ll wear this outfit for you.”
Scott grabbed the clothes from my hand. “No problem, Patti. You know
the rule — you do what I ask, or we don’t play anymore. It’s that simple.
You wear this for my friends or you go home and don’t ever come back.”