Oceana shudders. "Reasons I could never ever be an Escort. I can barely keep mine in line long enough for a fucking fitting. Forget trying to get them to behave in interviews." No sirree, that is not her gig at all. She watches that olive pass over Jason's lips and smirks, taking his hand with hers--all black nails and surprisingly soft skin--and shaking it.

"Oceana. But I'm sure you already knew that. I'm sort of hard to forget, once you've heard of me."