Politics. Escorts. Blackmail. Read Free Page A

personal use. One week after he lost his job he filed for bankruptcy, and due to his questionable reputation he found himself unemployable.
    Money knew the deal. She was his cash cow. She admitted it to herself and to him. But Jamie’s affections were at times a much-needed escape from the realities of her world. It still amounted to sex for money, only he was escorting her in her life.
    In the meantime, he also stood in as the bodyguard and driver for Lip Service. He was always on standby, but was rarely called. Yet she still kept him on the payroll just in case.
    Money was the eldest daughter of her half-French father, Arthur Watts, who worked as a French diplomat in London. He was accustomed to the world of politics and keeping things undercover. He spoke three languages and had also moonlighted as a spy for the Russians.
    She and her family had lived in London for years and then moved to Atlanta after her father got caught red-handed with Russian hookers in a hotel room in Moscow. Funny thing was, he never got caught giving away government secrets to the Russians. But his greedy penis and the world of hookers brought him to a fast halt. He was caught on tape receiving oral sex, and was blackmailed for money. He gave up every red cent the family had to keep the tape from being leaked. But a copy was sent to government officials anyway, and he was soon fired. It was also sent to the Mrs. Life was funny that way. The same act that brought him down years ago now made his daughter, Money, a multimillionaire.
    Through the fallout of the scandal, he and Money’s mother, Beverly Watts, stayed together. She was a retired high-fashion model from Sudan who traveled across the world before Money and her baby sister were born. He’d stayed with her in spite of her indiscretions as well. She’d slept with a possessive married designer who caught her and two other models in the act of a threesome. In a fit of jealousy, he fired her from fashion week in Milan, but let the other two stay on. After that, her modeling career was pretty much over.
    Her mom and dad claimed not to know what she did for a living, but she knew her father’s greed and love of money wouldn’t allow him to object. Cash was what he claimed made the world go round, which was why he named his oldest daughter Money. It’s what he hungered for. He was distant when it came to anyone but his wife, which also included his daughters.
    Money glanced out the window of the cab to check on their location. She looked down and pressed her middle finger along the touch screen of her phone, thinking back to her tough conversation with Midori, her independent contractor, or IC.
    Four days earlier, they had talked in the lobby of the Algonquin Hotel on Club Row. During that conversation, Money had a look on her face like she was pissed off, upset, and disgusted. Midori, also known by her escort name of Brooklyn, looked both sweet and worried.
    As they sat on the sofa in the lobby, Money turned to Midori and said, “So tell me what happened and don’t give me some lame-ass, cockamamie story, either.”
    Midori replied, “Bailey’s just jealous. He’s making up stories.”
    “Oh really? What’s he jealous of?”
    “He knows about Virgil.”
    “And how does he know anything about your private life, Midori?”
    “I guess he followed me. Maybe he’s been watching me.” Midori acted stumped.
    “You guess? Midori, listen to me. This is a problem. Are you laying up with him, talking about you instead of listening? Are you breaking the rules?”
    She said, “No.”
    “No rule breaking, huh? Then answer me this: How is it I send you to meet Bailey at the St. Regis, and you take money from him on the side?”
    “I did not.”
    “Then tell me what happened in the hotel room? Why was it damaged?”
    “It wasn’t damaged when I left him there.”
    Money asked, “So, you didn’t tear up the room and threaten to accuse him of roughing you up?”
    “No. He said