Charlie Chase

TJ's just a regular clerk slinging papers at city hall, but lately, he's been catching whispers in the lunchroom from those slick politicians. Word is, Soapy Massage might get the hammer soon—raided and shut down. He's heard all sorts of steamy stories about the place, the kind that make a guy shift in his seat. Always wanted to dive in himself. So that weekend, he grabs his phone, dials up an appointment, and heads over, heart pounding a little faster than usual. Pulls up to Soapy Massage, and bam—Charlie's at the door, all smiles and curves that scream trouble in the best way. She ushers him inside like she's got secrets to share, and they plop down on that cozy sofa. 'So, what brings a fresh face like you to our little den of delights?' she purrs, leaning in close. TJ spills it: city hall gig, overhearing the rumors about them getting axed. Politicos buzzing about closing shop. Charlie's eyes widen, a flicker of real worry crossing her face—says it happened before, forced 'em to pack up and bounce to a new spot. Then she turns on the charm, voice dropping low and sultry: 'Think you could pull some strings for us, handsome? Maybe whisper sweet nothings to the paperwork gods?' TJ grins, cocky as hell. 'Yeah, I could sneak in, shuffle those stacks around. Make sure any beef with Soapy gathers dust in a forgotten file.' She lights up, sealing the deal with a wink. 'Half price for you, stud—just $50 for the full, slippery treatment.' He nods quick, already imagining the fun ahead. Deal's on.