Party On The Strip (Open)

Colony Hotel & Bar, E. Flamingo Rd. - Las Vegas Strip

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Talk about a beautiful night on the Strip, Rebecca thought as she stood in her expansive second-floor office, watching the traffic moving east and west along Flamingo Road. While it didn't have quite the cachet of an on-the-Las Vegas Strip address, her club and "hotel" (read: illegal brothel) did have a very high-class clientele and a very high-class style and manner to it, things she was well accustomed to. Though she'd been long cut off from her family's wealth, the simple truth was that she didn't need it; she had more than enough wealth to ensure that everything stayed as it looked.

Walking away from the windows, she headed over to a small bank of screens which showed every public area of the 1st-floor club below her office; downstairs, it looked like everyone was enjoying themselves - the drinks were flowing, the dancers were dancing away and the money kept flowing in...but the first floor was the only area the cameras taped; the second floor - which was where the money, liquor and other party items was kept - and the third floor above her - which contained several private quarters where the half-dozen woman under her charge plied the oldest profession in the world - had no cameras whatsoever and while there were risks, she also took great pains to ensure that either only those people she trusted (read: her clientele) or those who worked for her were the only ones who had access to those floors...but its' either take great pains on security or risk getting busted and going away for a long, long time, she mused, watching the video screens before turning and going back to her desk.

Sitting down, she crossed her legs and leaned back, relaxing as she sat back in her chair. Dressed in a lace mini dress that came up well past her knees and strappy heels, Rebecca Ainsley, despite being 38 years of age, still possessed a figure that could turn the heads of both guys and gals, so much so that, on the days when the building's third-floor was open to her clietele, she herself was known to spend hours up there, taking care of clients alongside her girls and enjoying herself. It was a feeling that went back to her early days, back in college, when she worked as an escort, raking in far more money than one could imagine in a legit job. Sure, there were risks: her arrest record with the LVMPD (Las Vegas Metropolitan Police Dept.) showed multiple misdemeanor arrests for soliciting and one felony arrest for running an illegal brothel in Clark County, Nevada, but as she glanced at herself in the mirror, there were always ways to get around those things...

Pausing her thoughts, Rebecca opened a desk drawer and pulled out a small slimline purse; closing the drawer, she got up and walked over to the mirror, taking a few minutes to freshen up - a little touch of lipstick, some foundation and a quick brush-through of her hair - before stepping back to admire herself. Stepping out of her office, she called out to her secretary, "Claire? Our clients are getting ready to arrive upstairs for the night; if anything happens downstairs in the club, tell Enrique to take care of it."

"You think he can handle it?" Claire asked. "The club?"

"I wouldn't've hired him if he couldn't handle things down there," Rebecca replied, with enough of a sultry inflection in her voice to imply that she'd also hired him for other reasons besides his ability to run the bar and club downstairs.

"And where will you be if we need you?" Claire asked, knowing full well what Rebecca meant by her words.

"I'll be on the third floor, watching over the girls and making sure the clientele doesn't get out of line," Rebecca said. "Don't worry about me, Claire; I'll be fine. I've been in the game long enough to know what's what; the club closes at 4am, so go ahead and lock up this floor when you leave. I'll lock up the office and head upstairs via' the back stairs. Catch you later," she said, turning on a heel and walking back into her office, steeling herself for the night to come....