Free Shade of Pale by Greg; Kihn

around.”
    â€œI did. You’re Dolly, right?”
    Dolly stopped chewing. “Uh, yeah.… Who told you about me?”
    â€œA buddy of mine from uptown. He said you were quite a ride.”
    â€œYou sure you’re not a cop?”
    â€œI’m definitely not a cop.”
    Dolly was looking harder now, at him, up and down the street, at the cars, at everything.
    Then she said, “You got money?”
    â€œYeah, I got money, but I think a buck fifty’s kinda high. I just want to rent your ass, not buy it.”
    Dolly turned away. “Then skip it, OK? I got regulars. I don’t need this shit.”
    â€œHold on a second. Let’s just say I paid the tab. Where would we go?” Red asked, sounding suddenly upbeat.
    Dolly turned to face him again, her face petulant. She stored the gum in her cheek and rummaged around in her purse for a cigarette. “I got a place up the street.”
    She fished out a Marlboro and lit it with a neon pink disposable lighter.
    The man with the red hair smiled. “You gonna chew that gum and smoke at the same time?”
    Dolly exhaled. “I’ve got a very talented mouth. What did you say your name was?”
    â€œRed.”
    â€œOK, Red. Let’s see the cash.”
    He pulled a wad of fifties out of his pocket and flashed it in her face.
    â€œGood enough?”
    â€œGood enough.”
    â€œI just got one question. My buddy says you shave your pussy. That true?”
    â€œYeah, nice and smooth.”
    â€œWell, then. Let’s go.”
    Red slipped an arm around Dolly and pulled her toward him, his fingers casually kneading her buttocks, like a man checking a melon for ripeness. It was something he’d been wanting to do since he’d begun to stalk her, about a week ago. Dolly didn’t know it, but Red knew a lot about her: her streets and corners, where she turned tricks, where she ate, where she lived, who her friends were, everything you could possibly glean about a whore by watching her for a period of time. Dolly, on the other hand, knew absolutely nothing about him.
    When Red spoke, his voice hissed like a broken steam pipe an octave below the words. “I’m lookin’ for some strange,” he said again.
    Dolly twisted away and took a step back. “What do you mean, strange?”
    â€œStrange pussy.”
    Dolly laughed. “Is that what they call it now? Well, if you like it strange, I got some high-class strange.”
    Red nodded, his eyes shining mischievously. Dolly felt the uncomfortable heat of his gaze penetrate her flimsy blouse.
    He liked hookers. You paid them, they treated you nice. As long as the meter was running they loved you; when the time was up they didn’t know you anymore. Red thought that was a real good arrangement. He could look in his wallet and see how much love he could buy. There was no commitment or guilt, just accounting.
    â€œAll right. You want strange?” she said. “I’ll show you strange, but …”
    She turned to face him, stopped walking for a moment, and placed a hand on his sleeve. “Just one thing. No rough stuff. I’ll get as strange as you want, but no hurting, got that?”
    â€œOh, there’s no pain involved.… No pain at all, baby. I’m not into that,” Red answered. There was something in the tone of his voice that made the brown roots of her bright red hair prickle.
    The shadow of a second thought flickered across Dolly’s face, and as if he could read her mind, Red held the wad of money up and fingered it in her direction. It looked like more than it was.
    Dolly’s attention flashed to the cash. “I got protection, you know.” Her voice tried to muster all the street conviction it could. “Some real bad dudes.”
    â€œI don’t doubt it.”
    Earlier in the day, watching Dolly from his unseen vantage point, he had shot a few pictures of her. Satisfied that she was