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I did. My Rolls was fine; there were a lot of expensive cars in the red light district. However men, not beautiful women, drove those cars. It was an absurdly high price, especially in this neighborhood, but I didn't want to haggle.
The hooker immediately got into the car. She directed me into the parking lot of the hotel she worked at but we didn't get out.
I wanted to talk, I explained. Just talk. The prostitute said her name was Julie. I said mine was Victoria, before realizing it was a mistake to use my real name. Oh, well. I offered her my hand, and she laughed, saying, "That's normally not what my customers want me to hold.
I explained to her that my boyfriend Randolph liked to visit prostitutes. He had actually suggested that I dress like a prostitute to help him live out his fantasy, but I had laughed at him. I was the daughter of an Earl, and a trust fund baby! Me, a prostitute? The idea was absurd! Since he wasn't getting what he wanted from me Randolph began going out on his own, risking disease, his reputation at the firm, and our social standing. That simply would not do. That's why I'm here. This is a world that frightens me.
