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Summary
“That’s three-sixty, sir.” Freddie said sweetly, playing up the charm; once the clock struck two, wallets were usually held with the strings a little looser.
The man handed him a ten and winked at him. “Keep the change, doll.” He grinned when Freddie blew him a kiss and watched as he changed it up quickly, the tip going straight into his back pocket.
“You’re supposed to use the tips jar, you dick.” Roger muttered beside him.
“Why? He didn’t tip you.” Freddie stuck his tongue out. “Anyway, I need the money for roses.”
