"Perhaps I should rephrase. The dancers up there will be the best the house has to offer. And I doubt any of them that pass my tests would bat an eye at being asked to do just about anything. Particularly with the type of men that will have access to the lounge." He reached into his suit coat and removed a gold cigarette case, carefully choosing one and lighting it from a book of matches on the table. The chewed looking edge of the match book showed that this was not his first smoke of the day.
"This has nothing to do with morals, Jackson. This has everything to do with money. If you're going to work for me, I hope you can accept that. I'm not a moral man. Or a nice one. I can get more dancers. It's much harder to replace the kinds of clients who spend five grand just to have access to them," he said as he took a long draw.