Smiling like a cat, Samantha sighed contentedly and sat back on the wrought iron chair. The restaurant patio was empty as their fellow Los Angelinos seemed to be afraid of the unusual early spring chill. As both Frankie and Sam were recent Midwest transplants, a balmy fifty-eight Fahrenheit in late February was a novelty, and fairly tropical to their senses. Tapping her manicured fingers on the glass-topped table Frankie waited patiently for an explanation, Sam’s obvious hesitation only piquing her interest more and more. ‘It’s like a club.’ ‘Mickey Mouse? Mile High? Sierra?’ Sam chuckled and downed the rest of her mimosa. ‘Mile High.’ ‘So…like a plane charter service with hookers or what?’ ‘No, not exactly.’ Looking around, Sam made sure their waiter was nowhere to be seen and leaned in close as she tucked her long blonde hair behind her ears. ‘It’s a high-class escort agency, really, really high class.’ ‘You paid for sex?’ Sam leaned back and shrugged, suppressing another chuckle. Karenrifled through my wallet. "Hmmmm. Dr. Katrina Duras, just as you say. What'sthis?" as she pulled out a business card, "a psychiatrist? You've got to bejoking. You sick demented bitch! You're a shrink? … and you treat thisprecious girl like this? You are going to pay for this right now!" Karen crouched down and got up close and in my face. I whispered, desperatelyhoping Jane couldn't hear. "Please don't do this in front of my Jane," I begged. "Pleeeze!She can't see me like this. She can't see me weak. I'll do anything you say.Please have some pity on me." Not very damned likely. Karen's next move totally shocked me. She grabbed a fist full of hair, pulledmy head back until my face was level with hers, then kissed me straight onthe mouth, playing with me with her insistent probing tongue, while slowlytweaking my nipples. It completely took by breath away and I could feel myheart start to pump wildly. She was really getting to me. Then she whispered,her fingers still teasing,.
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