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The night had already been a bitch. Fuck it all to hell, that was Tessa's motto. She was extremely irritated, leaning against the side of the black Miata with her stiletto-clad ankles slightly crossed. Her intended client for the evening was a fucking teenage boy. Prank-calling bastards. Rolling her eyes, she reached into her little black bag to pull out the cell phone Big Layla had given her. Dialing the woman's number, Tessa tapped her foot impatiently, blowing an errant strand of silky dark hair out of green eyes currently narrowed into slits. Big Layla picks up, her voice carrying a hint of edginess, as none of her girls usually had to call her before about two in the morning. Tessa's free hand toyed with the skirt of her short black dress, trying to figure out the best way to tell Big Layla what was going on as the woman said, "Tessa...what's wrong..." Sighing, the tall brunette plunged right in. "The client you set me up with tonight has barely hit puberty, Big Layla. That's what the fuck is wrong. Complete waste of time. I'm not talking eighteen. Hell, I'm not even talking about sixteen. The little bastard was fifteen and there is no way I'm doing that shit. I'm calling because the Miata has a flat and fuck if I know how to change it." There was no doubt that Tessa was not pleased. Her eyes scanned up and down the street, hoping to hell she wouldn't encounter any sickos in the dark. The sidewalks were relatively deserted, save for one man jogging. Taking her lower lip between her teeth, she took a chance. "Actually, things might not be so bad after all. I might have found someone to help me change this tire. I'll call you later if I need you." Ending the call, she slipped the phone back ...

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