Chapter Eleven
At the beginning I worked most nights. I shared a one-room apartment with Sutton, who arrived in Tanglewood more broke than myself. Every cent I earned went into investments, some throughout the city in real estate, others in the stock market. As my portfolio grew and my hourly rate got higher, I stopped working—except for Saturday nights.
Even with a large nest egg, the money I make in a single evening is worthwhile. My services are only for the elite women of the city, those who can afford to throw thousands of dollars at pleasure.
And I enjoy my time, usually.
The arrangement suits me, but not everyone is pleased. When a knock comes on my door Sunday morning, I know who it is before I check the security camera on my phone.
It is with great reluctance that I press the
