57 The Duality

"Are you fucking joking me? Who the hell left their coke bag here?!" One of my fingers pointed toward the tiny square bag with white substance in it from a safe distance, because I sure as hell wasn't about to touch it. Just seeing the slight sheen of moisture on the outer layer of it had me cringing with disgust and fighting back the urge to vomit. "Come get your shit!"

"Whoops, that was me! Sorry, boss." One of the girls in a more conservative bikini came stomping over to retrieve her bag of drugs, plucking it from the vanity surface and stuffing it between her enormous breasts. I had nice ones but hers were unreal. No wonder that bag was sweaty. "A little extra for one of my private clients." She winked at me and stomped away, amazing me because she managed to not tumble over her feet and break every single bone in her body.

Lord knows that if I dared dare wear eight inch heels like that, I'd be toast.