Musing: does his draft e-mail hit the right tone or not? Hookers are no different to everyone else, right? You adapt human resources techniques to make them feel special and if they’re good you give them a glittering prize to aim for. Not that Lalita’s performances in that seedy short time hotel had been in any way deficient. To tell the truth, he hasn’t stopped thinking about her for the past three days.

Reminiscing with twinges: she was beautiful, far too beautiful for that cheap go-go dive where he found her, quite by accident. He had been with Samson Lee’s main man in Thailand, Tallboy Yip. Normally, McKay would never take his pleasure so down market, for, as a frequent traveler to Bangkok, he had joined the best, most discreet and most expensive of the city’s brothels; but Yip, who these days was almost as wide as he was tall - with thick degenerate lips in a lived-in mug - owned low-life tastes.

McKay had been on the point of making excuses and going back to his hotel, when he’d seen her gyrating around that stainless steel pole on the revolving platform with all the other girls, her long black hair reaching to the small of her back. When she passed by the second time he deliberately smiled at her. On the third turn she deliberately smiled at him. Within the law of contract his offer had been accepted: they had a deal. He bought her a treble tequila because she asked him to.

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