A book about horrible people, all of whom deserve each other. The sex tourists are ostensibly the protagonists and written sympathetically, so you forget that what they're doing is sleazy and exploitative. Joy is also a protagonist, but entirely soulless, though there are valid and Freudian excuses prevented for that soullessness, and though your delicate Western sensibilities may initially be mortified by her flagrant money-grubbing manipulation, you warm to her as the book goes on.
Yes, she lies to his face constantly. Yes, she pawns all these thoughtful gifts immediately. Yes, she gives a sob story about her family's crushing poverty, which is basically true, then spends the irrational amount of money he gives her on liquor, drugs, and her abusive DJ boyfriend, whom she swears on a stack of Bibles does not exist. "I love you no shit only one!" But it's the frog and the scorpion.
She's not doing it on purpose. Well, yes, she is doing it on purpose, but not to be malevolent. It's just her nature. She really does love Pete. But the way love works for her is she can lead this double life, and mean it authentically when she says he's the only one and her everything, that she wants to quit dancing and settle down with him, then as soon as she punches out she goes back to her actual Thai boyfriend who cheats on her and beats the hell out of her. She takes amphetamines and goes back to work (despite not needing the money) and bangs out a few more farang. In the Whitmanian sense, she is big, and contains multitudes. She knows she's running a hustle, but she has fully incorporated that hustle into the truth of her being. She does love Pete.
And Pete, this pathetic sap, in his blindness and insecurity, he can't accept his limping half-relationship with a sex worker for what it is. He keeps upping the ante, demanding more and more evidence of what everyone but him can already see. Hiring a private eye to spy on her. These adolescent head games, "if you loved me, if it wasn't just about money, you'd get my name tattooed on your body".
If it wasn't just about money, you wouldn't know her, Lancelot. You found her in a brothel, naked but for the boots.
Despite the fact that every character in the book is deplorable, none of them are aware that they're deplorable, and most don't believe that the others are deplorable, which results in an interesting ethical suspended animation that lets you examine the consequences of time-lapse close proximity deplorability.
Easily the best book I read on my trip to Thailand, though the implied advice was not very practical for me, as my trip was built around muay thai and not prostitute colonialism.