Rose Quarto Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Bari

Last week, stumbled on this lass, right? Skirt short, eyes sharp, smokin’ a fag. “Fare thee well,” I mutters, like in me fave flick, *Inside Llewyn Davis*. She laughs, “Wot’s that, creep?” Made me mad, her sass, but also – ha! – kinda liked it. Cheeky tart. Did ya know, back in Victorian days, prossies used secret codes? Little hand signs, winks, to dodge coppers. Clever, eh? Bet she knew ‘em, this one.

So you want to book a sex worker?

I set up my gear, and as I’m working, I hear this old guy at the next table. He’s ranting about the city council and how they’re ruining Quarto. I can’t help but chuckle. He’s got a point, though. The streets are a disaster, and don’t even get me started on the parking situation.

Rebecca Wilson moves to Quarto in four-book deal