"Pimp?" He laughed and shook his head. "That's a filthy thing you're callin' me, baby. Me, I'm more of a manager... a manager of lovely ladies of leisure."

"Whatever. Manage your dick out of our business, and we'll do just fine." She threw the bag  down at his feet, its contents clanging together. "Everything you asked for. Where's my money?"

"A business woman. I like that." Davy reached into his pockets, produced a thick roll of green, and started counting it. "You know, you ain't always gotta bring the bag, girly. You got some zippers of your own to sell that I'd pay real nice for. Others too—"

"Keep counting, David. Four hundred, clean."

"Ah, come on, I count dough in my sleep. We can talk."

"We have nothing to discuss except the exchange."

"Oh, we got plenty to discuss! What? Don't act like you've never bartered your God-given slice, baby. We all know where you got that work pass from. Now you think your shit's too hot to swap with civvies, eh? Think I can't afford it? Azures ain't the only guys that get to be treated nice, you know."

"What I think is that you wouldn't know what to do with it. You couldn't come if I called you."

Davy paused in his counting, look at her, and scowled. Zeika never broke her gaze. Inside, she hated it, talking and acting that way. Hustling meant she couldn't be the best of herself, but worse would be to end up like Julie: bouncy, cute, and getting her ass hand