When her client arrived, she recognized him this time. That night he had shown up, drunk and defeated, he had been a stranger to her. But now he was back to himself: neatly combed platinum blonde hair, impeccable three piece suit, confident smile on his lips.
“You look nice,” he told her as he led her door the arm down the stairs. Men usually wanted to take the back stairs to avoid being seen with escorts, but he did nothing to hide his place with her. Everyone in the brothel knew the young man was one of their own. “You look nervous,” he added as they stepped out into the brisk night...
continue reading...
