FACE VALUE © 2002 M.D. KOFFIN THIS DRAFT IS FOR PREVIEWING PURPOSES ONLY. DO NOT COPY OR REDISTRIBUTE THIS MATERIAL WITHOUT THE AUTHOR'S EXPRESSED PERMISSION. The rain was falling so lightly that it looked like snow. Tiny droplets swirled crazily about in the warm windless night. Celia blinked like a coquettish starlet as the light drops sprinkled her painted eyelashes. She usually hated working in the rain, but this rain that was so like snowfall filled her with holiday-like expectation. She sighed at the twinkling stars, God's Christmas lights her mother had called them. Her casual breath was tainted with a sickening stench, and she moved out of the way of a dirty thing with its hands jiggling in its pants. "Wanna get outta the rain?" It croaked in a whispering voice, holding out crumpled bills of minor denominations. She ignored the offer to the discouraging cheers of her companions that urged her to lay with this stinking lump. * * * * * The atmosphere was as thick as in the family tomb. The air hung hot and heavy in the back of the limousine. Matthew rolled down the window with urgent presses of his finger as the dead air choked him. He usually hated visiting his mother, and this visit had been just as dutiful and depressing as all the others. He drew in a deep breath, the misty moisture freshening his constricted lungs, and tiredly focused over the partially rolled down tinted glass at what looked like a coven of witches lit appropriately by the red traffic signal. The painted hags were grotesquely gesturing and calling, tempting and bartering with used-up female secrets. He had never considered picking up a prostitute before, he had never needed nor wanted to. Being rich and unnecessarily handsome, all women were whores to him. There was something about one of these ugly girls though, the way she looked up at the sky, innocently hopeful, not cockily sure and vulgarly luring like the others, like all of them when they were stripped to the basics. A bundle of rags passed by her and she took a pristine step back. He impulsively thumped the driver's partition, signaling for him to pull around the corner. The driver's face remained carefully neutral and Matthew found this golem-like acceptance faintly disturbing. "How would you like to get out of the rain?" He invited with his million-dollar smile. Celia immediately approached the limo to the encouraging jeers of her companions, but suspiciously stayed just out of arms reach like a little girl being offered candy. There was something off about this guy. He was too good-looking with too much money to be at this corner. Was it his first time paying for it, just a novelty experience for him? Or was he some kind of pervert, with odd habits he could not inflict on his usual women? She hesitated, "Are you serious?" He didn't answer, but she could see something flicker across his eyes. A glimpse of emotion and then back to that nervously amused facade. What had it been? Anger at his whim being questioned? Uncertainty about choosing her? She allowed her caution to swirl away from her like the rain. Better to be tortured with luxury, than be abused in some stinking alleyway. FACE VALUE © 2002 M.D. KOFFIN THIS DRAFT IS FOR PREVIEWING PURPOSES ONLY. DO NOT COPY OR REDISTRIBUTE THIS MATERIAL WITHOUT THE AUTHOR'S EXPRESSED PERMISSION.