She nods once. “And I’m a fast learner.”
“Have you ever been a waitress?”
“No.”
I sigh. Just let her leave …
“But I can do it.” She sits up straighter, eyes wide with hope. She doesn’t wanna take her clothes off, but she’s willing to carry drinks around in a tight mini skirt and halter top. Doesn’t matter how you dress it up, sex equals money. The more you show, the more you’ll make.
Maybe it’s my fucking headache, or maybe I’m just in a giving mood. Doubtful, but I say, “Go to this address and give this to Mitch.” I walk around my desk and sit down in my chair. I write as I speak. “Tell him I sent you, and he’ll get you on the schedule.” I tear off the Post-it and reach across the mahogany surface. She can’t work in Kingdom. In the state of Nevada, you have to be at least twenty-one to even serve drinks. But I have hookups all over this town, including restaurants.
She grabs the note. “Thank you, Titan. Thank you so much.”
I nod and hold up the paperwork. “I’ll tear this up except for the NDA.” She nods quickly. “What happened up here does not leave this room.”
“Yes, sir.”
I point at the door. “Get going.”
She runs out of my office much faster than she had entered.
Opening the bottom drawer in my desk, I pop the top off the pill bottle and toss a couple into my mouth before washing them down with my coffee.
The girls re-enter my office with GiGi. “All done, Titan.” The sixty-five-year-old lady smiles at me. She wears her bleach-blond hair up in a tight bun. It’s not even eight a.m., and she has a full face of makeup topped off with fake eyelashes and red painted lips. She’s always well put together and in a good mood.
The girls giggle, and Sandy picks up her bra and places her tits back in it.
“Thanks, GiGi. Send Dr. Lane in, will ya?”
She nods.
Sitting back in my chair, I fold my inked arms over my chest and look at the four women who stand before me.
The Queens of Kingdom.
Three of my best friends and I own a hotel and casino in the heart of Las Vegas. I oversee the Queens, our secret service. I have a list of men a mile long who want our girls. A couple of senators, a handful of movie stars, and even more rock stars. CEOs and some blue-collar hardworking dads who just want to blow off some steam before going home to their nagging wife and screaming kids. They fly in from all around the world.
They want a date for a work event, they call me. They want a woman to take on a trip to Maui, they call me. They want a woman for the night in one of our exclusive suites here at Kingdom, they call me.
I pull four cells out of my top drawer. “Here are your phones.” I place them on the desk.
They had to hand them over when they arrived earlier. “I downloaded the Queens app on them. If at any time you feel uncomfortable or think it’s getting out of hand, make the call. It calls me directly.”
The brunette who hasn’t said much over the past two hours looks at me. Her name on the NDA she signed says Maggie. She came with Sandy. “Do you have to end a date early often?”
I shake my head. “No. Our clients understand how it works, but I understand that sometimes things can go too far. You have too many drinks. He decides he wants more than what he pays for. You call me, and I’ll take care of it.”
“Have you had to do it before?”
I nod.
“And?” she asks.
“And I ended it.” Simple as that. A girl has never been raped or beaten while on the clock. My clients understand what they sign up for when they request a girl. If they so much as break any rule on the contract, I will break their fucking necks. But I understand I can’t be there with them a hundred percent of the time, so we make sure all bases are covered.
For the most part, everything always goes smoothly. The girls get to keep sixty percent of what I charge, and some have never even taken their clothes off. Getting naked and sucking dick aren’t requirements to be a queen, but if that’s what they want to do, then by all means. Plus, they keep a hundred percent of their tips off the books. That’s between the client and the Queen to negotiate.
The cheerful blonde who answered every question on her application with hearts over her i’s steps forward. Her name is Whitney. She places her hands on my desk and smiles down at me. I already know where this is going to go. “Do you sample the product? You know, rate it for your clients?”