Sample Sunday - Penultimate Hustle

Janique Turner was the best cocksucker in the business.

And she was late. For daycare.

"…I don't care if she has a flight in six hours, Rai, tell
her her pussy isn't made of gold."

Her assistant repeated the line back in Japanese so she
could fully assess the impact it would have on her recalcitrant co-star, but
Janique had already regretted her utterance.

"I'm sorry, Rai. Please tell Sushi-San that a set of
unfortunate, changing circumstances dictate that I ask to delay shooting for
another hour.

Tell her she'll receive an additional day's pay and perdiem,
as well as dinner and accommodations if she deigns to grace this country with
her presence for another day. If not, she can start walking to the airport."

Rai said nothing, but emitted a soft sigh.

"Ok, strike the last sentence."

Janique hung up abruptly, as was her practice. She had no
time for goodbyes.

"Hey, little man," she called out to the figure sleeping in
the car seat beside her. "We're almost at school."

Much like his mother, young Johnny Turner was not a morning
person. Janique felt mornings were for having sex and going back to sleep.
Johnny preferred to skip mornings entirely, sleeping till noon whenever he
could. He was quite a handful at four years old.

Instead of waking him, Janique passed her hand over his brow
with motherly affection, never taking her eyes off the road. Behind her, San
Fernando Valley commuters laid on their horns as they passed by. She maintained
a steady fifty-five miles an hour when her son was in the car.

Regis Academy was the most expensive and pretentious
pre-school in Beverly Hills. That's not to say it was the best in the area, but
neither Chris nor Janique felt a child barely older than a toddler should be
forced to do schoolwork.

Instead, she had enrolled him there because she liked
tweaking the noses of the parents and staff. Janique had more money than the
rest of them put together, and she never let them forget where it came from -
their husbands and boyfriends.

She pulled into her private parking spot next to the
headmaster's. Janique would have had his space except he had tendered his
resignation on the spot when informed that he would have to take the second
best slot.

Eventually, Janique relented and let him keep his position.
It still made her grin to think that she owned the school, and no one knew it.

She walked around and opened the passenger side door,
clutching her precious cargo to her not inconsiderable chest. At the entrance,
the staff greeted her in whispers as they opened the door and whisked him away
to a classroom where he could sleep until he felt like waking.

Janique made it a point to talk to his teacher whenever she
could, but there was no way today. Ultimate Hustle had a burn rate of ten
thousand dollars per hour, year-round. You didn't stay on top in this business
by slacking and socializing.

"How to suck seed in business," Janique said into her voice
recorder.




 Excerpt from "Penultimate Hustle", the sequel to Radar Love. 

Coming in May?