From my novel-in-progress. *Adult Content
I can invite anyone I want upstairs to my room, which about the size of a closet (I think it was, once) and is directly above the dance hall, along with the rooms of a few of the other girls.
I’m lucky, my room is the most coveted room--by the fire escape--which looks out over the Hollywood Hills, which spells out the word “Hollywoodland”.
On the other side of the door waits someone utterly forgettable and young, who nevertheless can pay well, which is why I am straightening my stockings and putting on my best slip to open the door in.
Although, in a few minutes, it won’t matter what my stockings look like, or if there is a hole in my slip.
There is generous amount of brandy still in my decanter and I knock back a few swallows, splashing on rose water below my chin and over my breasts to mask the smell.
The last thing I put on, after the radio, is a smile as I open the door and beckon my young visitor inside.