Chapter 20

"I'm really sorry, honey."

Donna and Angilee sat at the breakfast table in the apartment.

"I was a fool to think I could have a future with someone like him. You tried to warn me and I just wouldn't listen."

Angilee had spent most of the night crying with a heartache which was unrelenting.

"Now don't beat yourself up. There'll be other men."

"Sure," said Angilee self deprecatingly, "why future U.S. Senators are just lined up on my doorstep, all of them anxious to marry a home wrecking whore."

"Come on, snap out of it! I know it hurts like hell right now. Give it a little time, let me line you up with a few clients. That is... you do still want to work for me?"

"For a while. I want to complete the girls's college trust funds, then I'm quitting for good."

"What will you do?"

"I don't know yet. All I know is that sooner or later someone is going to find out what I'm doing and if they do, I'll never see my kids again."

"Sure, honey, I understand. Maybe you could go back to school. LeAnn quit last week to go back and finish her degree."

"You sound happy for her."

"Of course I'm happy for her," replied Donna, "I have no misconceptions about this business. We both know the money is good but it eventually makes you old before your time. I encourage the girls to make some good money, then get out while they're still young enough to make a good life for themselves. Finding replacements isn't hard. The women come to me. So stay with me as long as you like, but the sooner you leave, the happier I'll be for you."

"Thanks again, Donna. I don't know what I would do without you."

The next few weeks Angilee worked almost every night, trying to forget his face and the sound of his voice amid the myriad number of naked bodies which filled her. She no longer experienced orgasm, even with the occasional handsome young men who copulated with her so energetically. She still gave them what they wanted, but her groans of delight and screams of ecstasy were now simply an act, part of the acquired skills of her trade. She fucked them and she took their money. And each night she cried as, alone, she stared out the window and wondered what if...

For a while Angilee tried to keep up with the progress of Trace's political career. She saw in the paper that he had managed to win the primary with the help of labor and a heavy minority vote, but the papers agreed he faced an uphill battle to unseat the incumbent, a four term conservative who was accustomed to winning by landslide margins. Each time, however, she saw his name, the pain returned afresh, so she began avoiding any mention of the general election still several months away.

One morning, Angilee was straightening the apartment, Donna having left to do some shopping. She stopped to answer the twittering phone.

"Angilee, get out of there, now!!!" came Donna's urgent voice.

"Donna? What's wrong?

"No time to explain, the cops are..."

There was a click and the line went dead.

"Donna??? Donna??/" she dried, confused, panic beginning to set in.

Angilee, who often went barefoot, hurriedly put on her shoes and started for the door, before returning to the large desk where Donna kept her "appointment" book. Grabbing it, Angilee rushed to open the door, only to find two detectives and three uniformed officers blocking her way.

"Angilee Simmons?" one of the detectives asked.

"Yes."

"We have a warrant to search this apartment and a warrant for your arrest on charges of prostitution," said the detective, grabbing the John book from her. Angilee was read her rights and handcuffed. The last thing she saw was the officers beginning to ransack the apartment as she was led away.

The police had apparently had Donna and the apartment under surveillance since she had bought out Penelope. Angilee was arraigned, where her lawyer advised her to plead guilty. She did not want to offer such a plea, afraid of what it might mean in terms of her chances of seeing her girls, but when the lawyer explained that the police had surveillance photos of her, as well as the other girls who worked for Donna, and witnesses who could identify her positively, Angilee relented and agreed for him to plead her to a guilty charge. She tried to contact Donna, but apparently her Madame was facing the more serious charges of actually running the prostitution ring and was being held incommunicado.

Now sure that she would never see her children again, Angilee was crying when the detective entered her cell for a private conversation.

"You know you're looking at up to a year," he said.

"My lawyer says I'll probably get off with just a fine."

Not with Judge Mantee you won't. He's up for reelection and he's made fighting prostitution his main campaign theme. You'll do jail time. I guarantee it."

"Why are you telling me this? Just want to gloat?"

"No, as a matter of fact, I'm here to offer you a deal."

"I already told them. I won't testify against Donna. No way!"

"No, not that. We've already got two of the other girls who are wiling to turn states evidence. I'm offering something... different."

"What?"

"There's a cop, Ben Kingsley, who's retiring. We're throwing him a retirement party tomorrow night. At every retirement party we always hire a stripper to perform."

"And?"

"And, if you agree to strip at his party, we'll tell the judge you assisted us in an investigation. You'll probably only get probation."

"Could you get the charges dropped?" asked Angilee hopefully.

"No way we can do that. Your arrest is a matter of record. There's already a file on you which has been turned over to the D.A.s office. But I can guarantee you no jail time."

Angilee's mind whirled.

"And all I have to do is strip?"

"That and put out for him if he wants it."

"Just him?

"Just Ben," the detective replied.

"... all right," she said quietly.

Angilee was released the next morning into "police custody". She returned to find the apartment in a shambles, lamps overturned, the contents of drawers spilled over the floor, tables upended. The police had been thorough. But, she knew, Donna's John book was all they really needed. And if it was true that two of the girls had agreed to testify against her, Donna was in serious trouble.

She straightened up the apartment, then sat down and tried to think of what to do. She would, of course, fulfill her agreement at the retirement party this evening, but she could not seem to focus on what to do after that. If Donna did wind up in prison, how could she afford the apartment? The police obviously knew all her clients and would be watching. With no solution apparent, she fixed herself some lunch and tried to take her mind off the current situation by reading the paper, but, there, on the front page was an article about the election stating Trace was trailing his opponent by double digits in the polls.

She tossed the paper aside and cried. Everything and everyone she had ever cared about now seemed out of reach, the world closing in around her.

Angilee dressed in her most provocative outfit, black uplifting bra with lots of cleavage with a skimpy thong to match, fishnet stockings under a micro mini skirt and silk blouse which tied around her midriff, open to the waist.

When she arrived at the hall, she was quickly shown into a back room where she waited to make her entrance. The meal was over but the men, all officers who had served with the retiree, continued to drink for a long while before she heard the voice of the detective who had visited her in her cell.

"Ben, we've given you every toast we can think of. Now it's time to really show you how much we appreciate your years of service by giving you something else!"

There was applause and raucous laughter as the men anticipated Ben's reward.

"A little something from all of us!" the officer shouted as he pointed to the door, behind which stood Angilee.

Recognizing her cue, Angilee opened the door and stood in a sultry pose in the doorframe while someone started some bump and grind music. There were hoots and hollers as Angilee walked into the room and slowly began her routine. She was accustomed to taking her clothes off for men, but not to music, so she had practiced in the apartment until she no longer felt awkward. As she began to slowly discard the blouse, she saw the guest of honor seated on the front row. He had been pointed out to her earlier, so as the blouse came off, she danced over to him and laid it around his neck to the guffaws of the crowd. She caught sight of the detective who had "recruited" her and as she bent over, the skirt riding up almost to he waist, she saw him smile, but it was a smile which, for some reason, made her uncomfortable. The skirt was drawn slowly down and off and now the whistles and catcalls began in earnest as she spun about on the six inch stiletto heels, cupping her breasts and pouting her lips. When she tantalizingly unhooked and slid the bra from her, several of the men made suggestive remarks. She stood in front of the seated retiring officer and sensuously worked her thong down and off, leaving her clad only in the fishnet stockings and heels. She noticed the bulge in his pants as she swung her hips to the music and approached him. The others parted as Angilee sat down across his lap and kissed him hard and deeply. She could feel his erection throbbing for release.

"Want some, Ben?"

Her question was met with loud laughter and calls for Ben to avail himself of the invitation. The man ran his hands over her back and then, with the urgings from his compatriots, he grabbed her buttocks and buried his head between her breasts. The laughter and shouts became a chant, like that of a cheerleading routine.