CHAPTER 8: MONEY AND BLOOD..................
RANDY, OR ROSEMARY RANDHAWA WAS on the phone with Baxt. She was a sweet, not-so-young thing who liked to surround herself with furry soft toys and photos with fluffy bug-eyed Japanese cartoon characters. She was of course the UK’s best recruiter, publicist and manager for adult performers. Meaning she looked like someone’s chocolate biscuit-baking maiden aunt.
Baxt hired her for special promotions. Because she always got the job done.
Her parents, Punjabi traditionalists, thankfully never understood what she did except that she made loads of money and had a home office filled with furry toy animals. That, thank God, was all they ever needed to know.
Baxter Ffilthe, the young upstart, had teased her numerous times, “No matter how many pandas,
