The camera’s red light felt like a spotlight. For the next twenty minutes, Aaeysha became someone else. Not the reliable daughter, not the struggling freelancer, but a woman who knew exactly what she was worth. She leaned into the headrest, unbuttoned the first two buttons of her blouse, and let her voice drop to a husky murmur.
“So, Aaeysha. Graphic designer. Late on bills. What’s a pretty, smart girl like you doing in a district like this?” FakeTaxi - Aaeysha
“Aaeysha? You look lost,” he said, his voice a low, amused rumble. “Need a ride? First one’s on the house.” The camera’s red light felt like a spotlight