Chapter 5

Author’s note: Welcome back to the world of our friends! I hope you enjoy this installment, where we return to Vegas and see that there are some sands shifting under our core group. Things are as good as ever, but maybe they’re changing, too. And there’s also something lurking. Something dark and dangerous – and unknown.

The wedding reception had been a dream. But there was a lot in LA that had piled up while we were gone. Sometimes, living out a fantasy sure seemed like a lot of work. It felt like more work than usual because, for the last few months as more and more residuals piled up every month, I wondered why I bothered to work at all. At the same time, the competitive side of me stood up when someone like Stephen or Jeff Stone came to me and said they wanted to put together the financing package for their new movie.

It was also easier because Jason did most of the heavy lifting – and there was plenty of heavy lifting. Stars like Stephen and Jeff would never have an issue getting funding for any project. Some of the films they could just pay for themselves. They were rich enough. But, particularly with guys like Stephen and Jeff, they liked to minimize risk. They were diversified and liked to keep as little skin in the game as possible. They also didn’t want to deal with investors directly. So that’s where I came in. I treated each project like a fund. Or, on a couple of occasions, I had put together funds to encompass multiple movies. This created a nice pot of money to use, as well as insulate the identities of the people involved with the films.

For my efforts, I got a management fee, which I had started to give a bigger chunk of to Jason. It was a nice amount – usually seven percent of the total investment – but I was more interested in back-end payouts. In other words, Jason got equivalently a salary from the investors, while I took points from the success of the production itself. Working with major stars like Stephen or Juliet was a cash cow because their movies were always successful – in part because of their global appeal. If a movie didn’t do great at the box office domestically, it would still cruise to good numbers worldwide. So, for example, my first fund for Petey I only had two-percent on. The movie made $750 million globally, though, so I was suddenly flush with $15 million. We had strung together a half-dozen hits, along with smaller projects, and I negotiated up my points each time. By the end of the first year, my usual cut was five-percent, so by the time I had splurged on the $30 million in houses in the Hollywood Hills? I had been sitting on a nest egg of $110 million that had come in very quickly, so I had more liquidity than was probably wise.

But I also felt like that influx was just the tip of the iceberg. Petey and I knew we had a real chance, within only a few years and with some luck, of becoming billionaires, although he was a lot closer than I was, thanks to his late dad’s fortune. So it really started to buzz around in my mind that I should choose retirement sooner rather than later.

Financially, we were in great shape as a family. Rita, of course, had gotten a nice little chunk of change out of her divorce. We could have probably lived happily just off of the proceeds that kicked off in interest and gains each year. Kat had a similar, if smaller, residual from her divorce. Jess’s businesses actually generated nearly seven figures in profit – and was probably less than it could have been if she didn’t put so much back into the businesses. She was very generous with her Infinity escort, giving them frequent bonuses, and made investments in the Daydream porn company, both for the talent and their productions. Katie didn’t have the same financial float, but the money from the tour was very good, and it’s not like she had anything to worry about anyway. It was, I started to realize with increasing attention, quite an enviable position.

Of course, when you get a taste of the world of the rich and famous – okay, very, very famous – it can be its own sort of drug. It’s hard to put limits on yourself and your desires. I was never great with limiting my desires anyway. So the thought of stepping back from the business came with a tug of doubt that maybe I’d be jeopardizing our place in the circle of celebrity, and that circle was something we had come to really enjoy. It was its own kind of drug.

The power of that drug came swinging in with a strong reminder just a couple weeks before we had thrown our wedding reception. Oscar nominations came out, and, to everyone’s surprise, Juliet had received a nod for best actress. It was a shock because her movie from the previous year hadn’t received much critical love, although it did gangbusters at the box office and was a huge hit with fans. You could see that easily by checking the IMDB page – where it had a 7.7 out of 10 rating and a Metascore of 46. The one thing everyone agreed on, however, was that Juliet carried the movie single-handedly. It was a quirky comedy, and she stole the show. As a result, the Academy rewarded her with her second nomination for best actress. So, after we got back from the whirlwind of the Stages Tour in Houston, the riotous Super Bowl celebration, and our wedding party, our lives got swept up in the tizzy of Oscar fever again.

That meant Juliet was a nervous wreck. But she was in better shape than the previous year, albeit not by much. Her competitive streak couldn’t help but force her thoughts toward winning. She wanted it. There was also self-doubt. She wanted it, but did she deserve it for this movie?

Once we returned from Houston – a flight we delayed two days just to not feel like absolute shit when we traveled – we were into the four-week countdown leading up to the Oscars. Jason and I caught up on work. We lived normally, catching up on real life. It lasted two weeks. Then Juliet’s anxiety took over, so the girls swung into action. Jess talked to Melanie, and they hatched a plan.

A girls’ weekend. To Juliet’s favorite place – Joshua Tree. They would take glamping to the next level. Three nights away, treating it as a spiritual-psychedelic retreat, would help give Juliet some peace and cut into the time left to wait before Oscar night.

“Shit man,” Jason said to me the day before the girls were leaving. “We should take advantage of this.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“The girls being gone,” he said. “We should do something.”

“You’ve got something in mind,” I said. “Just say it.”

“Let’s go to Vegas,” he said. “Fuck it. When was the last time we had a boys’ trip?”

“I can’t even remember,” I acknowledged. “They will be gone three days.”

“And we’ve hit a little bit of a work lull,” he pointed out.

“It could be fun,” I said.

“Could be?” Jason said, looking at me with a furrowed brow. “What did you do with my buddy John? He would say yes in a heartbeat to Vegas. Anytime.”

“Yeah, fuck it, let’s go,” I said. “I’ll talk to the girls tonight.”

There was a flurry of activity around the house – suitcases jumbled near the door, nearly indecipherable shouts requesting one thing or another.

“The limo is here,” Rita yelled from the kitchen toward the primary bedroom at the back of the first floor.

“I’m coming!” Jess yelled back.

“Got everything?” I said, slipping my arms around Rita’s waist from behind one more time.

“I think we do,” she said.

She craned her neck awkwardly to kiss me.

“You’re going to have fun,” I said. “Joshua Tree is cool. Actually, that probably doesn’t do it justice.”

“One of those places you just have to see for yourself, huh?” she said.

“Exactly,” I said.

She spun around, pressed her magnificent tits into me, and kissed me one more time.

“Come on, girls!” she said loudly.

Kat and Katie were already outside, the driver loading their suitcases into the trunk of the Cadillac Escalade stretch limousine. Crystal and Bianka stood nearby, as Jason hauled their luggage from the back of his Bentley. In the distance, Juliet and Melanie rolled their suitcases over the path that connected our houses. Rita bounced down the front steps and over to the limo, and Jess bumped into me as she followed behind.

“Be good,” I said to Jess wryly.

“I anticipate a deeply religious experience,” she said and kissed me.

“You’re joking, but it actually is kind of like that out there,” I said. “I can’t wait to hear about it.”

“Maybe we’ll make some videos for you, daddy,” Kat teased.

“Only do things we would do in Vegas, my love,” Rita said.

“That takes nothing off the table,” I joked back to her.

And we made a final round of hugs and kisses and see-you-soons. I was a little jealous, knowing that the girls were embarking on an experience that would open their minds and leave an indelible impression. I watched as they piled into the limo, bottles of Champagne cold and ready for them. Jess got in last, lingering a moment.

“I set up something for you guys in Vegas,” she said. “You can thank me later.”

She gave me a quick peck on the lips and disappeared into the car after giving me a wink. Two minutes later, the Escalade stretch pulled down the driveway, turned left onto the main road toward Hollywood, and disappeared.

“Well, my man,” Jason said, “should we get this show on the road?”

He grinned at me. It had been way too long since we had done a boys’ trip. Way too long. Not that I needed a break, but there was always something unique and special about just getting away with the guys and cutting loose.

“Petey texted,” I said. “He’s on the way.”

“Sweet,” I said.

Almost immediately, however, we got a ring from the gate. That was too quick to be Petey. I looked at the video feed on my phone, and my jaw dropped. It was London, the UCLA cheerleader. She wasn’t supposed to be here, especially not when Rita wasn’t here. That was one of Rita’s rules for her. I buzzed her in, then met her outside on the driveway.

“You know Rita isn’t here,” I said, not sternly but not warmly.

“I know,” she said.

I stood there, hands on hips, peering at her through my sunglasses.

“I just need two minutes,” she said.

“What’s going on?” I asked. “Be quick. I’ve got to get going myself.”

“I didn’t get to talk to you at the ranch,” London said.

She wore gray yoga pants that fit so tightly, the outline of her pussy lips created a perfect camel toe. She had a midriff-baring sports bra on and an over-the-shoulder jacket to cover up from the slight February chill.

“And you didn’t answer my texts,” she added.

“You know the rules,” I said.

“I know,” she said, pulling at her straight, blonde hair.

“Come on,” I said. “I’ve got to get on the road.”

“Where are you going?” she asked.

“No time for small talk, Londy,” I snapped.

“Okay, I know, um, I’m totally breaking the rules,” she said. “But, like, I’m getting a lot of pressure, and I kind of keep forgetting.”

“Just tell me what it is,” I said, my tone softening. “Slow down and just say it.”

“My aunt really wants to talk to you,” she finally said, the words tumbling out all at once. “She’s really insistent. She keeps asking. She wants to reconnect.”

“Oh,” I said. That wasn’t what I was expecting.

“I’m going to text you her number, okay?” London said. “You can do what you want, but it would be really, really cool if you just reached out to her. Just to catch up, you know?”

“Okay,” I said.

London didn’t even say goodbye. She just turned around and half-ran back to her white Volkswagen Jetta that sat outside the gate, engine idling quietly.

“What was that?” Jason asked as he came outside.

“That was London,” I said. “The UCLA cheerleader.”

“No shit?” he said. “You should have asked her to come with us.”

He laughed, but I shot him a disapproving nod of my head.

“Come on,” he said. “It would be fun.”

“Rita’s rules,” I said. “But you’re right. It would be fun. She’s such a slut. So eager to please.”

I broke into a smile. In that instant, the Vegas spirit took me over. It was time to live it up.

We waited another five minutes, and Petey picked us up in a stretch limo. Classic rock blared from inside, the Eagles’ “Life in the Fast Lane.” Jason and I left our small suitcases with the driver, who loaded them into the trunk, and we ducked into the back of the limo. The music choice, as it turned out, was absolutely appropriate.

“Let’s get to Vegas, boys!” Petey yelled as soon as we crossed the threshold. He wore aviator sunglasses and a white button-down shirt with a couple too many buttons undone and the sleeves rolled up.

At the far side of the limo, facing us, were Christy and Serena from Infinity. They looked ravishing, Serena in an emerald green cocktail dress and Christy in an identical one that was royal blue. They sat with their legs turned toward one another, their knees touching. They glanced at us to give us a smile as we climbed inside, then returned their attention to the rectangular mirror Serena held. Christy glanced down, looking where to place the glass straw she had shoved up her nose. A parade of white crystals flew up her nose when she snorted, like an inverted snowstorm. She switched nostrils and snorted a second, fat line.

“Powder that nose, girl,” Serena said in her smokey, seductive voice.

Christy closed her eyes and wiped her nose with one hand while handing the straw to Serena with the other.

“Yes, please,” Serena said, accepting it.

“Let’s start this party right,” Christy said, her voice reflecting her stuffy nose.

“So much for a boys’ trip,” I said to Petey.

“Ah, it’s a boys’ trip, brother,” he said. “We needed someone to serve us drinks on the flight.”

“Yeah,” Christy said, perking up. “And we were told no touching.”

“That’s right,” Petey said. “No touching these two fine beauties. At least, not until we land in Sin City.”

“Man, that is a fucking tease,” Jason said, leering at both girls.

Each of them showed a generous amount of thigh, Serena’s lightly tanned and Christy’s porcelain white. The tight dresses pushed their breasts up high, Christy’s fake and extra proud.

“Not totally a tease,” Petey said with a grin.

He reached into his pocket and tossed each of us a circular silicone device. Mine was pink. Jason’s was purple.

“They’ve each got a Lelo vibrator in,” Petey continued. “Those are the remotes.”

“No touching,” Serena said, alternating between us to make eye contact. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t cum.”

“I am definitely going to cum,” Christy said.

The girls put down the mirror and straw and put their lips together gently. They turned their heads to the side to make sure we had a good view, then showed off their tongues dancing together.

“Fuck yeah,” I said.

“To a boys’ trip,” Petey said and popped the cork on a bottle of Dom Perignon.

We clinked glasses, and Jason and I took turns torturing Serena and Christy with the Lelo vibrators. They might have been allowed to cum, but we weren’t going to give in so easily. We pushed them to the brink, then backed off and turned to conversation with Petey.

“I heard you like to play games in Vegas,” he said to me.

“Who told you?” I said with a laugh.

“Kat and Jess,” he said. “They mentioned it in passing when Jess was filling me in on some, uh, arrangements.”

“I’ve been known to dabble in surprises when we go to Vegas,” I admitted.

“What are we talking about? What’s waiting for us?” Jason said.

“It will all become clear in the fullness of time,” Petey said with a laugh.

“Where’s Alix?” I asked Petey.

“Hey, it’s a boys’ trip,” he said.

“Well, not entirely,” Jason said, gesturing to the girls.

“She’s actually in Mexico with a client,” he said. “NBA player who got snubbed from the all-star team and wanted a distraction from the weekend.”

“That’s not so bad,” I said.

“Yeah, plus we’re trying something out,” he said and pulled out his phone. “It’s a We Vibe toy. I can control it in this app. From anywhere.”

He turned the phone around and showed us the screen. It was similar to other sex toy remotes I’d seen, except this was on his phone screen. Same controls. And he could ramp the vibrator up or down from a thousand miles away.

“Shit, that’s badass,” I said.

We blew through two bottles of Champagne. The girls hit the coke again. Jason slipped the three of us some gummies, and we hit them. Next thing we knew, we were at Van Nuys, where Petey’s new corporate Gulfstream G-650 was fired up and ready for takeoff.

On board, we downed three more bottles of Champagne, which got us all a nice little buzz going. Petey, Jason, and I talked a little business, but we kept up the teasing of Serena and Christy with the bluetooth toys. It was intentional. We wanted them writhing. Especially me. I hated the no-touching rule. I understood it. But the Vegas animal had infused my bloodstream.

My remote paired with Serena’s vibrator. It had been a long time since we had played together, but I had always found her alluring. She came off as aloof, confident to the point of being cocky in the pull of her sexuality. Her skin was immaculate. Her smile was warm, with full lips that didn’t require doctoring. Her tits were natural and outrageously perky. Her ass was hard from a gym habit that rivaled only her love of cocaine and having sex for money. She was one of Jess’s early hires for Infinity, and she had never wavered from her dedication to her craft. She was a true whore.

She also had a remarkable feature when she got aroused. Her pussy creamed. Literally. When she got turned on, thick streams of boldly white fluid – like melted vanilla ice cream – leaked out of her pussy. And, over the years, she had become a notorious squirter – something I had yet to witness. But I wanted to. And I was determined that Vegas would be my time to find out.

So I didn’t let her cum on the flight. She handled it with poise, which didn’t surprise me. She always seemed calm and even-keeled, to the point of possibly being cold. Except that I knew she was a three-hole slut. The best way to thaw her was with money. She made that clear to me again on the plane.

“You should just let me cum, John,” she said at one point. “I’m bought and paid for this weekend.”

“Which means I can do what I want,” and said, smiling at her.

Jason, on the other hand, was not so disciplined with Christy. It was hard to be. Christy, back in her days as our regular flight attendant, used to have a similar poise and restraint that Serena retained. But once she had given that up and become an Infinity girl? The facade came down. Hard and fast. Just like she preferred to get fucked. She was an overt sex fiend, and she had no qualms about offering her body up. She liked being used. What she wanted was simply whatever a man wanted to take. Or give.

The edibles kicked in hard during our descent into Vegas. Christy was just calming down from a third orgasm, her dress disheveled. It was a clear, bright day in the desert. During the daytime, the Strip looked dusty and full of bad intentions. Just the way I liked it.

“What about doing some lines off us?” Serena suggested shortly before touchdown.

She pulled down the top of her dress, and there were her gorgeous globes. Her areolas were light brown, but her nipples – pointedly erect in the cool air of the jet – were a rosy shade of pink. The tattoo of a dolphin showed just below the side of her left breast. Her decolletage was dotted with a handful of freckles.

“Help yourselves, gentlemen,” Christy said, covering the abundant top curve of Serena’s breasts with fine powder.

“But we can’t touch,” Jason noted.

“So don’t touch,” Serena said seductively. “Snort it up with the straw. Christy can lick it off.”

“You’re killing me,” I said.

“That makes two of us,” she said and stuck her tongue out playfully.

Petey hit the first two lines, then Christy reloaded Serena, and I took a turn. She smelled good, like she had been fresh out of the shower. Her eyes flashed like fire. My teasing had done its job. When I finished my lines, Christy made a show of licking up the remnants off Serena’s tits. Then, very enthusiastically, Serena pulled down the top of Christy’s dress. Her implants strained against the skin of her breasts. Her small nipples were hard and bright pink. Jason hoovered up two lines and immediately buried his face in Christy’s chest, licking them, sucking her nipples, and then biting them. Hard, apparently, because Christy screamed out in deep appreciation of the pain.

“The rules, man!” I shouted.

“Fuck the rules,” Jason said. “We’re here.”

Just then, the plane touched down, and we all laughed. Ten minutes later, Christy and Serena had pulled up their dresses, and the five of us were in a gold MGM Grand limo headed toward my favorite Vegas indulgence: The Mansion. As Harry Reid Airport receded in the distance, my anticipation rose.

“What’s so special about The Mansion?” Christy asked.

I smiled at her.

“If you have to ask...” I said.

She blushed.

“I mean, how great can it be?” Serena chimed in.

“I don’t know,” Petey said. “I’ve actually never been. I’m usually more of a Wynn and Caesars guy. I love the villas.”

“Like the Hangover?” Jason said.

“Exactly like that,” he said with a laugh.

It had been a long time since I’d stayed at The Mansion. My skin tingled as the heavy gate, tucked back off a secluded entrance off the north side of the MGM Grand, smoothly rolled back to reveal a faux-Italian paradise for us.

“Wow,” Christy said when we stepped out of the car.

We were greeted by a petit, doll-like girl in a smart black suit. She had equally black hair, which was pinned back in a severe bun. But she had warm features, dark eyes, and a welcoming smile.

“Welcome back, Mr. Cameron,” she said. “We have you and your guests on the third floor.”

“Thank you,” I said. “I didn’t get your name.”

“Marissa,” the raven-haired beauty said, extending her hand.

“Marissa,” I repeated. “Well, thank you for the warm welcome.”

Marissa and a trio of butlers escorted us to our rooms. We had taken over almost the whole third floor, each of us with our own one-bedroom villa – even Christy and Serena. I relished the reactions of everyone to The Mansion. There was nothing else like it in Vegas. We walked into the courtyard, full of green shrubs and trees, with pops of color from flowers, the center dominated by an ornate fountain. It looked almost like a real Italian piazza. And it was surrounded by tan stucco villas, built to look like a village. It was comforting and home-like. I drank in the oohs and ahhs of my compatriots.

We separated to our respective rooms, and I savored the good buzz I had going. The edible made me feel very chill, and the lingering coke high balanced it out with just the right amount of euphoria. I pulled out my phone and texted the girls on our family chat.

“Just got here,” I wrote.

Three dots immediately lit up. Jess and Rita both responded right away.

“We just pulled up!” Jess wrote.

“This. Is. Gorgeous!” Rita said.

The dots appeared again.

“We hot-boxed the limo the whole way here,” Kat said.

“Daddy, I think I’m a pot smoker now,” Katie wrote with a crying-laughing emoji.

“Seriously?” I typed back immediately.

The dots appeared again, and I waited. Then a picture from Kat popped into the chat window. It showed Katie holding a bong and exhaling a thick plume of smoke.

“That is really sexy, baby,” I wrote back.

“I’m so stoned,” Katie replied.

“We love you, daddy,” Kat wrote.

“We miss you!” Jess added.

“And we love you so much,” Rita said.

“Go have fun,” I sent. “I love you all forever. Do everything I would do. LOL.”

“We will,” Jess replied. “Look for your surprise in about thirty minutes. But check your closet.”

I tossed my phone down on the bed. I closed my eyes and physically felt how much I missed my wives. But they were on their spiritual retreat and support of Juliet, and I was on a spiritual retreat of my own. I suddenly got the itch to play craps. So I walked into the bathroom, with its large jacuzzi tub in the middle of it, and turned on the steam shower. While the water heated up, I peeked into the closet. My suitcase was already there, but so was a brand new tuxedo hanging in it. The girls totally had taken a page out of my playbook. I liked it. And I liked the nudge it gave me – to give this trip a sheen of class, of Casino de Monte-Carlo.

The shower felt good. Even a short flight took a little bit out of me. By the time I dried off and put on a pair of slacks and a button-down shirt, I was losing my buzz. A comedown of any kind wasn’t in the cards for me in Vegas, so I poked around the bar in the kitchen. The fridge was stocked with Champagne. I reached for a bottle of Krug and popped it. Just as I poured a glass and took my first sip, the doorbell rang. It was Jason.

“Dude,” I said. “Come on in. Let me pour you a glass.”

“I was feeling like hitting a craps table,” he said.

“You read my mind!” I said.

“I gave Crystal and Bianka a call,” he said while I retrieved another glass.

“Yeah, I talked to the girls, too,” I said.

“They are stoned out of their minds,” he said.

“Even Katie!” I said.

“No shit?” Jason said. “I thought she didn’t smoke.”

“I guess she does now,” I said and showed him the picture.

“That’s hilarious,” he said. “Hard not to come around with this crew.”

We clinked glasses and took a swig.

“Let me see if Petey wants to roll some dice,” I said.

“He’ll be a few,” Jason said. “He’s using that vibe on Alix.”

“Genius,” I said.

“You feeling good about the projects?” Jason asked, referring to our two main movies to focus on, especially Jeff Stone’s and Stephen’s.

“Really good,” I said. “In fact, I was kind of thinking about taking a step back after these two.”

“Are you serious?” he said.

“Who are you, Crystal?” I said with a laugh.

Jason laughed with me.

“What about Henry? Isn’t he still wanting to do something?” Jason queried.

“Yeah, that’s one thing I would hold out for,” I said. “But I’ve been doing some math. I’m not sure how much longer I need to do this.”

“Don’t want to go for the big ‘B,’ man?” he said.

“I don’t need to be a billionaire,” I said. “Couldn’t spend it fast enough.”

“I bet your four wives would beg to differ,” he said.

We laughed again, and there was another knock on the door.

“Oh, shit, now it’s a party!” I whooped.

It was Bryce and Jamie, the Vegas football players, who had volunteered to join us and host us for our visit.

“Good to see you, bro,” Jamie said and pulled me into a bear hug.

“Yeah, dude,” Bryce said, also hugging me.

They gave the same greeting to Jason, and I offered them some Champagne. They accepted, and we started to draw up a plan.

“Let’s roll some dice,” I said. “I love this casino.”

“I’ve never been in here,” Jamie said.

“Oh, it’s the best,” Bryce said. “It’s going to be insane.” He turned and looked at me before adding, “Isn’t it?”

“For sure,” I said, nodding my head.

“Should we get this party started?” Jamie asked.

“Petey should be here any minute,” Jason said.

“Maybe we do get the party started then,” Bryce said, tapping the side of his nose with a finger.

“I’m into that,” I said.

But Jason had beat me to the punch. He was already dumping out the rest of the baggie of coke we had done on the plane onto the marble countertop of the bar.

“Are the girls joining us?” I asked.

“Later,” Bryce said.

“Yeah,” Jamie added. “They’re at the spa right now. They wanted us to have some boy time.”

“Boy and whore,” Jason said with a laugh and stepped away from the counter, which was now covered in neat lines.

Jamie and Bryce eagerly hit them.

“Fuck yeah,” Bryce said, giving me a sharp high-five. “Let’s roll some dice and get some pussy. I want to have a wild time with you guys!”

“I love the offseason,” Jamie said after he hit two lines, then went back for two more.

Petey arrived, joined us for some coke, and we decided the party ought to move to the plush privacy of The Mansion’s casino.

“What about the girls?” Jason asked.

“I’ll text Serena,” I said. “But we don’t need to wait for them.”

“Serena and who else did you guys roll with?” Bryce asked.

“Christy,” Jason said.

“I love that dirty slut,” Bryce said. “I don’t think she’s ever said the word ‘no’ and meant it.”

“Let’s hit the tables,” Petey said. “And see what pieces of ass come out of the woodwork.”

We laughed and moved toward the door of my villa. And we stopped dead in our tracks.

“Going somewhere, boys?” We were greeted by the sing-song voice of Caitlyn, the Vegas Infinity escort. The tall, slender blonde wore a silver sequined mini-dress that didn’t feel appropriate for the middle of the afternoon. Except that this was Vegas. Next to her stood Nicolitta, the olive-skinned, curvy girl who was the textbook picture of an Italian-American. She had full lips, smoldering eyes, and oozed sexuality, although the skin tight red cocktail dress she wore, which matched her lipstick, left little to the imagination. And on the other side of Caitlyn was Brittany, the brick house former Houston escort who had made the move to Vegas to open the Hooker House there. She was still as fit and stacked as ever, wearing black shorts, an ab-revealing white tube top with no bra underneath.