After being attacked, professional call girl Raya and her sister Lana become a little less human. Though one sees this as a gift and an enhancement toward professional improvement, the other sees this as a curse.
On top of that, they're being toyed...
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Sometimes fate has a way of utterly mucking things up when least expected. Occasionally, things work out for the better. Sometimes...you're just screwed.
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Tonight will not suck, Raya told herself as she slipped her new designer pumps on. In her book, any night that involved new shoes was a good night. These were her favorite kind -- tall, blood red, and very expensive. Just like her.
She smoothed her fiery hair with her hand, and checked her makeup in the mirror. A grey smokey-eyed look worked splendidly for her. Her black mini-dress, like most of her clothes, was tight enough to pass as a second skin. So snug, that it forced her to reach in the top to fluff her bosom to keep them from appearing small. They darn-tootin' should look big; her boss paid a pretty penny for them. Her plump bottom looked ravishing enough, she decided, as she turned this way and that to check.
What difference does it make? She wondered finally, knowing she'd be out of the dress within the hour anyway.
Undressing was part of her job. Sure, she could just get paid petty cash to keep the wealthy, sometimes attractive, and often times intelligent men company, but if she really wanted to make a profit she would have to part with her skimpy threads sometime during the night.
As per usual, it wasn't enjoyable for her; it was just work. She steadied herself and tried to forget that, at age twenty-seven, she should already have her own law practice, but instead, here she was - a call girl. A high class call girl, but a call girl nonetheless.
While she stared her mirror-self in the ocean-blue eye and gave the usual mental "you won't have to do this forever" pep talk, her phone's ringtone went off. She took a moment to let herself get into the music, nodding her head in time with Eddie Murphy's Party All the Time before she snatched it from her nightstand.
"Raya speaking," she greeted.
"Where the hell are you? I've got a man calling by the name of Bruce, says he's a big spender, keeps requesting two girls. Everyone's already out except you and Queenie, so grab her lazy ass and get down to Market Street," her pimp -ahem- boss demanded.
"Hold your damn horses, Gary. I had to make soup for Queenie, I'm on my way, but he'll have to settle for one girl because she's out of commission. Poor girls been puking her guts up all day. It's like The Exorcist. Seriously, it's very unattractive...unless this Bruce dude is into those things. You know-"
