The Education of a Very Young Madam (17 page)

So then I went down to the police station, where they looked me up and found out that I had a seven-year-old warrant out for my arrest in New Jersey. It was just this stupid thing that happened to me when I was in Atlantic City after Tito was murdered. I had been leasing a car and was late on one payment (not surprising with everything that was going on in my life then), so the car company had reported it stolen. I was exhausted from driving one night and pulled over at a hotel where all I wanted to do was relax in the Jacuzzi and then go to bed. When I got back to my room after taking a dip, the police were banging on my door. They'd seen the car in the parking lot and run the license plate. Then they came into my room and went through everything. In the bathroom they found a tiny little vial with just traces of cocaine, which must have been left there by the room's previous occupant. It really wasn't mine. I hadn't even unpacked yet. Still, the car charge was dropped, but the possession charge stuck, so I was supposed to return to court some time later for a hearing. I never showed, which is why they issued a warrant for my arrest. And I guess arrest warrants, even for small things, never go away, not even after seven years.

I wasn't all that worried at first, just annoyed that this had happened when things were going so well for me business-wise, and personally too, since I loved living in Florida. Talk about your past sneaking up on you. I figured either Jano or the Colonel would come to my rescue and bail me out. I waited and waited, but they never came. Instead they decided to leave me there and take over my business.

I was the one who had all the connections with girls from all over, who I'd bring in for a week or two at a time to fill appointments. And I was the one who'd been building relationships with the clients on Colonel Ed's list so that they would trust us. And I had been generous to both those guys. I had already started to figure out that Colonel Ed was getting much more than he deserved. I had befriended this computer genius in Miami, and he had shown me how easy it is to manage mailing lists and send out e-mail blasts, which was all the Colonel was doing in exchange for his ongoing fee. He had convinced me it was such complicated work that I needed him to stay on to help me with it. Even after I found out that that was bullshit, I kept working with him.

Jano was even worse. To try to help him get on his feet so he could make some money of his own and get out of my apartment, I had built up a male escort service in Miami for him to run. I made him this really hot Web site, but he couldn't handle the work. I ended up running both businesses while he mooched off me. I was making sick money, and I developed an amazing collection of Louis Vuitton handbags during that period, but it was also exhausting and I was going out of my mind by the time I got arrested.

All in all, it took two whole months before I got out and could rescue my business. It took so long because I was extradited to New Jersey, which was an excruciatingly slow process. When I finally got there, I was eventually let out on probation since the charge was from so long ago and it had been just a small amount of drugs. But by that point, the damage was done.

The first thing I did when I was let out was go down to Miami to find out where all my stuff was. Jano and his girlfriend (who, I had heard, moved into my apartment when I wasn't there) had split, and there was practically nothing left in the place. I called 911 as soon as I got there, and the police found out that some of my stuff had been stashed with a neighbor. I got back my computers and some of my furniture, but all my good clothes were gone, not to mention my Louis Vuitton collection.

I flew back to New Jersey with my tail between my legs. To make matters worse, I'd gained a lot of weight—about forty pounds—while I was in jail, so I was feeling really bad about the way I looked. I started to feel better, however, when I began looking into taking back my agency. I found out that Jano and Colonel Ed had done such a bad job while I was gone that everyone was happy to have me back. They had booked an appointment for Mandy, for example, with a serial mugger who was known for slashing people up. He didn't hurt her, but he did tie her up and steal all her money and her Rolex. I was more than a little pissed at her for working for those guys while I was in jail, but I played on her guilt to get her to blow them off and work for me instead. And the clients I talked to were just as dissatisfied with the service they'd been getting.

I set everything up for a killer week before I announced my return. I brought in a bunch of girls from Montreal and booked hotels for all of them. Jano hadn't thought to erase all my contacts from my computers when he left them behind, so I still knew how to get in touch with the original list. I sent out a mass e-mail to clients, girls, friends, everyone. The subject line read: "HOSTILE TAKEOVER!!!"

It wasn't hard to take my agency back after that. Jano dropped off the face of the earth, probably afraid of what I'd do to him if I found him. And Colonel Ed ended up getting arrested for something else. Business was better than ever after that, and finally, it was entirely on my terms.

The second time around I decided I should run my business in New Jersey from New Jersey and by myself from then on. Thanks to my computer nerd friend, I had learned a few tricks, and I began testing out what I could do to make the list I'd bought from the Colonel even better. The first thing I did was plant ads on free sites, local Craigslist-type places, using stock pictures of half-naked girls. After that I sent an e-mail to everyone on the list offering them free access if they just entered their full names, some other basic information, and confirmed their e-mail addresses. Then I sat back and waited for guys to contact me. Using the information I received as a result, I began cleaning up the list by eliminating duplicate contacts, addresses that were bounced back, and anyone who responded with a request to unsubscribe.

I have used the same stock-photo trick to build up my list on occasion too. The problem is, it can take a really long time and a lot of effort to keep posting fake ads in places where potential customers will see them and wait for them to respond. That's why I still think, despite everything that happened with the Colonel, that buying that list from him was a good investment. And because I've done so much work on it over the years, I now consider it my most valuable asset.

I have pared down the Colonel's original list from eight thousand addresses to a targeted e-mail list of about two thousand men in the

New Jersey area, all of whom have been carefully and methodically checked out by me personally and who I know are interested in the services I offer. Besides using the planted ad trick, I have added to the list over the years through referrals and personal contacts, but that initial list still accounts for the majority of my customers. By now I know these guys' habits, what they're looking for, and how often they come looking for it. I know that they're all legitimate customers, not cops (except for the cops who have been cleared to use our services). I also know what they do, where they work, if they're married (most of them are), if they have kids (most of them do), and, in many cases, even more personal things, like how good their marriages are and how happy they are with their jobs. (Guys often like to chat when they call me.) Having that information makes me feel much more calm and secure about the business I'm in. The best clients are those with the most to lose: they don't want anyone to find out about my business any more than I do.

I started out in New Jersey more than six years ago, but my business has always worked pretty much the same way, although my Web site has gotten more sophisticated and I've had a chance to try out all kinds of different marketing techniques to see what works. It didn't take long to build up a steady stream of work, which has kept me busy to maximum capacity ever since. More often than not, I have more work than I can handle, and I've had to learn how to say no, how to take days off, and how to just let the phone ring without answering it. That last one is still hard for me.

One of the most interesting things about how the business has changed over the years is that it has all gotten a lot more transparent. While I may be able to feel more secure about what I do because of modern technology and how it allows me to do my entire job behind closed doors, I'm also held to a higher standard. Thanks to those very popular review sites, where customers share information about their experiences, clients know much more than ever even before they even get around to calling us.

The rip-off agency I ran in Baltimore could not happen, not for long anyway, in today's environment because of these sites. Guys would be able to read about how we didn't deliver on the promise (or
implied
promise) of sex, and they just wouldn't call us, simple as that. Men looking in the yellow pages, as they did back then, didn't know anything more than what you wanted them to know, but today anyone with enough money to afford our service also has a computer, and he can look up each girl on the review sites. All the truly professional escorts can be found there, and guys do check them regularly, so if a girl wants her career to continue, she has to keep her ratings up. And the practice is good for us too. It helps me monitor what's going on with my girls, which is important since I'm never actually in the room with them when they're working. Besides, the better her reviews, the more I can charge for a girl (I often charge a premium for "perfect 10" girls). I even show up in the reviews sometimes, with guys critiquing my phone manner. (They often mention my sweet and sultry voice.) Sometimes guys like to get poetic with their descriptions of their encounters or even give play-by-plays, like the review in the next paragraph. Generally speaking, however, guys have less to say when they are satisfied. A typical glowing review can be something like "Attitude: Sweet; Appearance: Hot; Recommended: Yes; Price: $300." But if a customer feels he's been screwed over in some way, boy do we hear about it.

Here's a review that was posted one evening when I was having phone trouble and the girl who was working was fighting off a cold:

When I called to set up the appointment, I told [the agent] I might be late and she said that was fine, she'd only charge me for a 1 /2 hour if that's all I was there for. I was thinking, cool.

But then I got to the spot on time and called the number. I got some message saying my call could not be completed. I waited 10

minutes, called back, same issue. Waited another ten, same thing. At 8:45, fifteen minutes after my appointment was supposed to start, I tried sending an email from my blackberry saying I couldn't get through on her phone. She called me back five minutes later and gave me the room number. I thought, ok, fine. I ran upstairs, told [the girl] I would only need a half hour, gave her the donation, and jumped in the shower.

When I got out, [the girl] said, "Please call the agency and ask the rate because I was told you were paying for a full hour and I don't want to get stuck paying the extra." I tried calling. I couldn't get through. Finally she said we could call again after the session.

Onto the session. [The girl], as previously reported, has very well done implants which feel terrific and respond wonderfully. I went to work on them and here's the 1st snag—BO :(. Her armpits smelled a bit, which was a turn off. I kind of nudged her down for some BBBJ [bare back blow job] and she complied. As she was going to town, I started feeling her legs and they were hairy. WTF?!

She gave nice BBBJ—hands, no hands, dt [deep throat], just the head, a really good mix—but when I moved her to mish [missionary position], the armpit smell came back. At this point, I asked if she could finish with her mouth. She said ok.

I can't say I was happy about the review, but it was fair. It wasn't our best night. We made it up to him, though.

It's really the World Wide Web, and not the law, that has brought some sort of order and regulation to this industry. And to tell you the truth, I prefer it the way it works now. Terms
professionalism, reliability, pride in your work
weren't ever used when I first started out, but now I don't know how you could possibly run a business without these principles.

CHAPTER 10

Intimate (Business) Relations

N
ow that I've established a successful and lucrative business, my entire frame of mind is geared toward minimizing my personal risk. That's why I do my best never to meet clients or employees in person. (Except for those I already know, of course. I still bring in lots of girls who I've worked with before in various places, and who are friends of mine.) I'm perfectly accessible by phone, e-mail, or through my Web site, but there is really no reason for them to know me, know where I work, or even know my real name. I go by a stage name too, just like my girls.

Not only is this safer for me but it also adds to the mystique. When I've met my ladies in the past, they've often been shocked by how young I am. Between that and my sweet and friendly personality, they start to see me in a different light, more as a friend and someone to hang out with than as a boss. That's when they start slipping. They think I'll understand if they're late or if they want to go tanning during business hours and I can't reach them. They think I want to listen to them complain about their boyfriends or about clients for silly reasons because, after all, I'm like a friend to them. But I don't understand and I don't want to listen. What I care about is working hard and making money. Keeping my distance from people is the best way to do that. It's not personal, it's business.

The separation between church and state, so to speak, was so important to me that my best friend, Mandy, and I had to decide when I set up shop in New Jersey whether we were going to be friends or colleagues. I knew we couldn't do both, because we knew each other too well. We chose to be friends. She doesn't work for me anymore, but she still visits sometimes.