"Fucking hell!" The pretty young blonde growled into the telephone, "I don't fucking believe it! How am I supposed to......I'm not swearing........ok I was; but only a little...... fucking hell!"
She then blankly looked at the receiver before banging it back into the cradle. The young woman then sat in stunned silence for a moment or two until her big brown doe eyes began to fill with tears before she stood up and strode towards the Jobcentre door.
Davy was already three steps ahead of her and held the door open. The blonde walked straight past him without a second glance and once in the car park she stopped and began fumbling in her big fake Prada handbag.
"Here, use these." Davy whispered as he handed the girl a packet of tissues.
She took them and looked mystified that a complete stranger would be so helpful as she wiped her wet eyes.
"You look like you need a smoke too?" The handsome young man told her as he offered her a Marlboro. She nervously took a cigarette and let Davy light it for her.
The girl inhaled the smoke deeply into her lungs before exhaling it away from her Knight in Shining Armour.
This was a well practiced manoeuvre for Davy. He was a 'scout' for Terry Regan who ran a porn video and internet business alongside other illegal activities across the region.
Davy's job, among many others was to find new talent for Terry's thriving porn empire and he'd had spotted Layla as soon as she walked into the Jobcentre. The leggy blonde ticked all of his boxes – she was very pretty, cute even; dressed sexily in a very short denim skirt with two low cut vests that exposed her ample cleavage and a glimpse of a cheap leopard print bra. Her hair was naturally dirty blonde and piled high with long chunks straggling down the back and sides and her red platform shoes looked a little bit tatty and wouldn't have been out of place on a pole dancer but weren't normal attire for a Tuesday morning at the Jobcentre.
Pretty young girls who were 'signing on' were often quite amenable to making a few extra pounds in Terry's films; in fact they didn't always have to be young or pretty as there was a burgeoning market in films and webcams using older ladies. Davy could never understand why someone would want to watch a Granny playing with her saggy tits and hairy gash or getting shagged; but he wasn't in a position to judge anyone's standards; especially as he was usually the one who had to shag them. He had been drawn into this murky business two years previously when he owed one of Regan's dealers nearly £1,000 in unpaid drug debts. He'd taken the obligatory kicking with good grace and when it was suggested that he could pay of the debt by acting in dirty films he'd jumped at the chance.
The debt had been paid off long ago but he know earned a good living finding new 'starlets' and also starring in films shagging MILF's, Yummy Mummy's and occasionally even the odd Gay movie. He didn't like the latter stuff but with enough toot up his nose he'd shag a frog if he could stop it jumping around!
"Do you fancy a coffee or something?" The suntanned Lothario smiled and held out a hand to point to a nice Hotel on the opposite side of the street.
The blonde sniffled and nodded her head as she put his tissues into her bag. She'd never been into the Café before as it was quite expensive; so she was suitably impressed as she stared around the plush surroundings.
The waiter took their order and Davy began gently asking questions; without trying to appear too obvious. He'd done the exact thing 20 – 30 times before in the last 2 years and had an 80% success rate.
Her story was the same as all of the others – can't find a job; no/aggressive boyfriend, problems with parents/landlords/credit card companies/drug dealers and basically this one thought the world owed her a living but didn't want to get her hands dirty. She was now relaxed in his company and already drinking her second cup of coffee and telling him about the 'bastards at the Jobcentre' who had stopped her money because she'd been late signing on the previous week and possibly the two previous appointments.
Davy wasn't listening. He never did. He was discretely eying her up; she would fit in nicely – long legs, biggish boobs that looked natural, a pretty face and a sexy appearance and he'd even spotted a couple of tattoos on her ankles, wrist and shoulders.
He bided his time and when she began fidgeting he asked if she wanted another cigarette. She nodded, because she'd been waiting 15 minutes for him to ask! Before going out into the garden he checked his watch. The bar would now be open.
"Do you fancy a proper drink?"
Layla thought for a moment and thought of the classiest drink she'd ever had; "I'll have a Blue Wkd, thanks." Then she walked across the foyer and into the beer garden that doubled as a smoking area. Every male eye within 50 yards watched her as her hips gently sashayed and swayed from side to side.
Davy looked and smirked. "100% Chav!" (#A Chav is the equivalent of Trailer Trash).
When Davy joined her in the garden Layla was wearing a pair of huge fake D&G sunglasses and sat in such a provocative way any passers by could nearly see her knickers. As he lit her cigarette the waiter arrived with their drinks and the guy couldn't keep his eyes off her pouting chest when he placed them on the table. She was in her element and Davy knew this was the moment.
"Look," he pretended to stumble with his words, "If you need cash.......I've got a friend who.....well.....if you really need money quickly."
Before he'd finished the sentence she leaned forward and asked; "He's not another money lender is he?"
"Well......he's got a ....sort of......photography business." He stopped so she could take in the term he'd used; she nodded. "He's always looking for pretty girls to....you know.....model for him."
Davy pretended to look away in embarrassment but could see she was thinking over what he'd said.
He shrugged his shoulders; "He pays cash.....and....well.....I think you look gorgeous.......and I think he will too. It'll be easy money."
He sat back and held out his hands as if to say 'it's up to you now.'
Without asking Layla took another cigarette from his packet and nonchalantly lit it as she considered his offer of help and took a long look at the man making it.
Davy was 6ft tall, reasonably muscular and 28 but looked younger. He had longish brown hair that covered his ears and was expensively cut. Now that he was earning good cash he was perma-tanned with two small diamond studs in his left ear and always wore Designer labels; today it was a pristine white G-Star t-shirt, Diesel jeans and a pair of Adidas Forrest Hills trainers; he looked street smart, but not too showy; which was perfect for an operation like this.
"What would I have to do?" She asked through a thin smile; the very first of their meeting. "How much are you talking about?" She then took another long drag from the cigarette.
"It depends, I suppose." Davy had to stop himself from grinning; she was hooked quicker than he'd expected.
Again he shrugged his shoulders and smiled; "It depends....everything has a price." He knew he had to be as vague as possible at this stage, so as not to frighten her off; but he also had to make it clear that these weren't going to be pictures she could show her Granny.
"The first session would probably be topless.....you know.......maybe you would have to take your knickers off." He stopped speaking to see her reaction; there wasn't one so he continued, "you'd probably get £30 for that sort of thing."
