Free Daylight - Book 1 (No Death for the Wicked) by Karli Rush

mannequin, porcelain skin, her glossy black hair is cut trendy and short cropped. Her bangs level perfectly with her eyebrows. I like her style, the crimson and Gothic black one piece dress fits her well. I even like her lace up mini-platform knee boots with the decorative bow.
    “Yeah, yeah it is,” I agree.
    “I'm sure Emerick told you all about me and why I am here.”
    “He gave me a name and that was it ,” I quirk my brow at her as I continue, “but since you're here, I'm all ears.” I carry myself to a cushy chair, fold my arms over chest and wait.
    She takes the chair behind the large wooden desk which sits across from me and begins weeding out papers from her purse. Picking one paper up and holding in front of her face, she reviews it and then slaps it down. “You are about a seven, with work you could be a nine, maybe. Nines can make nine hundred an hour. Since you are a chaste in this, you will only be allowed to make four hundred an hour until you have proven you have more skill.”  She reorders her papers, smoothing one out and continues. “You are to escort clients to functions, which happen all over our illustrious city. Being the entertainment for our clients is of the utmost importance. I'm pleased to have you join our services. I'll have you know to become one of the few escorts of Solace is a prestigious job. Your ultimate task is to satisfy their every whim, man or woman, it makes no difference.”
    “Wait a minute... you're talking about fucking?”
    “Not necessarily, you will provide companionship at certain events or galas. You have had sex before? If so, I see no issue. Sex is what most of the humans want. It can be an even exchange. There really is only one rule to remember here. Do. Not. Kill. Them. These humans come from all over the world to visit us. They pay for what they can never have anywhere else. It is this income that helps build our city. We have formed a symbiotic relationship with the wealthiest humans. It has been this way for hundreds of years. Now, you will be allowed to curtail the amount and fetish style on your own.
    Krew has extended his personal invitation to rejoin the feasting upstairs, but it is understandable that you are tired and need to absorb all this. Your dress will be delivered here to your room at first dark tomorrow.  Au revoir Mattie, it was a pleasure.” And with that she flashes to the door and out of sight, leaving me with the echo of the door closing behind her.  What the hell are you getting yourself into, Mattie?  
     
    *
     
    “I think you're trying to kill me,” I huff at the loopty-loops of hair dangling in my face.   
    “You are a jewel on their arm, c'mon Mattie you can say it,” Estelle pokes and prods me.
    “I'm more of the diamond tipped razor ready to slice them open for a cocktail, type.”
    “Mattie, this job is about style, personality, and appeal. You want to dazzle your companion and —”
    “And blah, blah, blah. I happen to have style, and personality,” I pitch in, my meter is reading way past the annoyed mark.
    “The client expects to have you on his arm and for the rest of the room to be deliciously green with envy.” She tucks and pins another strand of hair on top of my head and whispers, “It is what they pay for.” 
    “Seriously, this thing has a damn bow on it. And, don't take this wrong, because I like red, hell it's the color of blood, but on me, it doesn't work. You have to find a different dress or something that isn't crayon red. Black, maybe, black looks good on me, it enhances my inner style, c'mon Estelle, you've gotta have something better than this. Hey, your outfit isn't half bad, just trade me, okay?”
    “Mattie, you're fine, the dress is fine. Now, we need to discuss some points that we may be able to use to our advantage.”
    “What's that suppose to mean? ” I glare at her while I switch from my nose hoop to my platinum nose stud.
    “Well, in order for you to accommodate someone,