Why apologize to an escort?

Marlene couldn't help but think it was too easy as Jenny led her through the dimly lit corridors, her glance frequently darting back nervously. The corridor was narrow, the walls adorned with eclectic graffiti that seemed to tell untold stories of the club's patrons.

"Where exactly are we going?" Marlene asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Jenny chuckled, a hint of anxiety in her laugh. "I'm not going anywhere. You need to head two floors up," she pointed towards a staircase shrouded in semi-darkness. "Don't worry about cameras, no one wants to record what goes on here."

"Right," Marlene muttered to herself. She opened her comlink again. "Pierce, where are you?" she asked, her voice tinged with concern.