Chapter 18Miranda wished she had worn something warmer. The gloves, black lace with the fingers cut off, looked great, especially with her long red nails. But her fingers were starting to tingle with the cold.
She had dressed herself entirely in black tonight: a long, black satin dress she had found in a thrift shop, black lace-up boots, and a billowing black wool coat over top. All the black emphasized her red hair. She had woven a string of rhinestones through her hair. She thought maybe the reason she hadn’t been picked up yet was that she looked too intimidating: looked too good to be a prostitute, too beautiful to make an offer to. Fears of rejection.
She sensed the vibrations coming psychically from the drivers of cars as they passed her by. She could smell their desire and read th
