<span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 8pt;">The speakers blared the bass and tremble of Get Low (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5qlkgneCbZM). As they walked into the hallways leading into the next room, Lacy shook her head. Wearing a cynical smile. She felt like she was in a badly made porno movie now, where all the songs had their hidden messages. Popping up at just the right moments. She was eager to hear what song she would be lucky enough to get when the shit hit the fan. <br/><br/>When they got to their destination, Lacy lingered behind some. She took time to notice subtle things. Walking into things blindly was never one of her shortcomings. The red interior was fitting, almost stereotypical of a place called The Sin Bin. Yet, at the same time, the private room fit the epitome of the definition: luxurious. Satin pillows rested on the shiny leather couch, where the Latin man and Juicy got cozy. The room was dimly lit with candles and a low voltage light over head. The coffee table in the middle of the L shaped seat was stocked with Greygoose, and assortment of fresh citrus, and something she had hardly been known to harbor...<em>Envy</em>. The bottle brought a grin to Lacy's lips as she took in her surroundings. Hiding behind the ice bowl was what the girl let her gaze linger on. Her frat friends called it 'White girl'. She and her sisters called it 'Snow'. But tonight, to Lacy it was <em>incentive.</em> Both literal and figurative. <br/><br/>On edge with the things tugging at her conscience, Lacy stood at the door. Shrewdly weighing her options. <em>Taking the line was of no question</em>. She wasn't a newbie to that, <strong>nor</strong> was she an addict. Just a girl who knew how to have a good time when it presented itself. The dilemma was with her <em>loyalty</em>, to the club and the client. She had scales weighing in her head. If she played her cards right, Lacy would have her cake, and eat it too. Most of her college professors always <em>said</em> she had too much of a Machiavellian way of thinking for someone so young, and seemingly innocent. <br/><br/>In the "walk-through" Lacy remembered the most random things. Camera positions being one of them. <br/>So, it seemed like the Latin man knew about the camera behind the mirror. The hush money stuck to it. Warning the club to keep his actions on the down low. But did he know about the <em>other</em> camera? The one that was activated with a trip of the door closure. Once that lock sunk into the door sill, it would be blackmail central. Lacy hung on the door for a moment. The knob held behind her in both hands. She watched <em>him</em> roll up a bill and entice Juicy to do what had to be, her first line. Lacy slinked to them slowly. Holding a nonthreatening palm out to their guest, while the door remained ajar for the moment."VIP card...<em>please</em>."</span><br/><br/><div align="center">(http://i232.photobucket.com/albums/ee80/One_Way/Home/normal_black010.jpg)</div>