Whitney can be any one you like. Cleo, Spice, Cherry, Scarlett, Lacy, Brandy, Angle, Ginger, Aspen or Trixie depending on which of her A-list celeb clients book her. She keeps her list short, only ten clients, but they have all been chosen very care...
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2019
"I won't make it back to LA for a while," Harry says climbing out of bed and getting dressed. "You going on tour?" Cherry says walking back into the bedroom from her shower. "No...I have business back in London that will keep me," he says. "Well, I have added travel back into my services," Cherry says as she puts her jewelry back on. "I know, I read your memo. But, there is something I need to focus on over there. It will take up all my time...I want it to take up all my time," he says softly helping her clasp her chains around her neck. Once he is done she turns and looks at him, he has a soft faraway look on his face. "You hope it will take up all your time?" she asks, Harry bites his lip and blinks back tears as he nods. Poor guy, he has been in limbo with his turmoil for years and she hopes his business opens its fucking eyes one day. She does not know what it is, but Harry has been nursing a heavy heart over it ever since she has known him. "Do you think it's time to terminate your contract with me?" she asks softly, touching his arm. He looks at her, his eyes longing. "No...I don't think so," he whispers and pulls her into a hug. "One day..." she whispers. He pulls back and smiles at her. "Thank you, Cherry," he says and hands her a second white envelope that is thicker than the one he had given her when she arrived. She kisses him on his cheek and takes her bag, and his box then walks out.
Whitney spends the rest of her day at the salon, shopping and doing shit she had put off. She visits her account too and smiles as he gives her a rundown of her assets. She is a clever girl with a good head for business. Prostitution is illegal in America but dealing with tax invasion carries a bigger problem so she owns large high-end apartment buildings dotted around LA and deposits her personal earnings as a tenant. That way, the government thinks the money is part of the rent she charges her tenants and because they get a nice fat cheque from her for tax they don't bother with her. Even so, she does have a second strategy, her client list is small and well-chosen. They don't want anyone to know she exists and they are rich, so if she were ever in trouble she would have ten clients and their teams of lawyers throwing money at her problem till it went away. On her way home she pulls her car over when it rings.
"Hello."
"Hello, Trixie."
"I haven't heard from you for a few months."
"Been dealing with some shit. You up for a visit?"
"You back in LA?"
"Just for a few days...just for you."
"When and where?"
"My house. Now?"
"On my way."
Trixie turns her car and heads in the direction of Austin's house. When she pulls up the gate opens immediately and she drives up to the front door. It opens and Austin steps out, he smiles but it does not reach his eyes. She gets out and looks at him - he is not ok, she can see it. She walks around her car and then stands at the bottom of the stairs and looks up at him. He stares at her, his smile gone and his face now sad.
