Chapter Ten:
The blouse was creamy-white and Suzie could plainly read the lines of her palm through the ghostly silk. With a shudder, like icy fingertips skimming along her spine, Suzie pulled on the blouse, buttoned it across bare breasts and studied her image in the full-length mirror. The swooping mounds were pointy with the dusty smudge of large rose-colored areolas clearly visible. And the silk draped from the tips of elevated n*****s. She felt cold and exposed. And it would only get worse, when her Uncle Nick led her through the hotel lobby.
Suzie pulled a short skirt along her thighs and laced up leather ankle boots which bulged the calf muscle above spiky heels. She wore her London Fog so her mother wouldn’t see.
The Duke of Wellington Hotel was a rare old bird, especially in Fl
