by T. L Smith
“Who?”
“He also then told a story about how he picked a woman for his liking, and you made her run off. Now, I have it on good authority this woman is Ariel. Would you like to disagree with me?”
I sit on my white couch shaking my head. “He went to the paper?” I ask, confused. I had him pegged and thought for sure he would be perfect, that he was the type that wouldn’t speak.
“Oh, he did, but not to just any paper.”
I look up, my hands on my knees as Darby sits back, putting his feet on my coffee table again to piss me off even more.
“He went to hers,” I hazard a guess.
“Correct.”
Fucking hell! Why didn’t she tell me about this last night?
“So, I ask you, what do you think I should do about this? This isn’t just some random person talking, Falcon. This goes beyond that. Now, you’ve stepped into the game of no going back. We made rules about this when we first opened, do you remember?”
I hang my head.
I do.
Creed broke the rules, Echo slipped by the rules, and here I am not even getting laid by the woman who fucked over my rules.
“Talk to her, but what happens to him, I can’t help.” He kicks his feet off the coffee table and walks to the door.
“What will you do with her?”
He looks back as his hand touches the door and grins. “I’ll talk to Creed.”
“Don’t.” I know how Creed’s mind works, and leaving her fate in his hands is not something I really want to do. “How will you kill him?”
Darby smirks. “I’m sure it’ll be an accident, nothing to bother yourself with.”
A celebrity has power. They aren’t an easy target or as easy to get to as an average working Joe. It takes more because that means there are cameras usually involved, an audience to witness. Which is not something our club needs nor wants. But thankfully, we also have contacts. I would say our list of contacts is better than a governor’s, because more than likely we have that said governor on our list and everyone else they know on our list as well. Darby’s clever, though, he knows ways to make it go unnoticed, that will keep his hands clean, because he’ll time it perfectly so it in no way can come back to us.
Then there will be the issue of her. It’s a risk I didn’t see coming, one I should have anticipated to begin with, knowing what she does for a living. How could she hide it so perfectly when I saw her last? Not even a question left her lips.
“Did she ask you?”
“You saw it then, I take it,” Tracey says on the other end of the cell.
“I did.”
“No, she didn’t. I don’t think she knows it’s you either.”
I hang my head, that realization makes it worse. At least if she knew it was me, she had some leverage. So, if I told Darby she didn’t know it was me, he would simply kill her fast and efficient. No one would be the wiser. I don’t want her dead, though, that’s the last thing I want.
“Are the stories true, Falcon? Should she be mindful now of where she goes?”
“Yes.”
“Fuck! How come you never told me any of this. What if I had slipped up?”
“You wouldn’t have, I know you.”
“I wouldn’t have, but still… you should have told me.”
“Don’t tell her anything, promise?”
“Of course. But brother, don’t hurt her.” Tracey hangs up the cell and I do a search for the article in question.
* * *
Elite Sex Club Findings
* * *
He speaks of a place that’s hidden to all. One where if he even shared his name it would be putting himself in jeopardy. So, for the sake of this story, we shall call him Bob.
* * *
I cringe that she named him that, same as her vibrator. Well, I guess she may have fucked him if she hadn’t seen me standing there. I shake my head and go back to the story.
* * *
Bob: The place is elite. To gain access you meet with one of the owners, but the catch is you never know who or when he will meet with you. He just comes to you and you know just by looking at him that he’s it. He’s the man who can give you access.
* * *
Writer: What exactly happens in this place?
* * *
Bob: It’s a place where all men’s dreams come to life. Whatever you wish for, your woman will do with no questions asked. And she will do it with a smile on her face. Think of the worst thing your partner has ever asked you to do in the bedroom, then times that by ten. These girls have no limits.
* * *
Writer: And this is a place all men want?
* * *
Bob: It is. It comes with a heavy price, though. They have to know you can afford it and they won’t approach you unless they know you can.
* * *
Writer: Tell me, have you been approached?
* * *
Bob: I have. In saying that, my meeting was interrupted when I chose a girl. But, he also knew this woman, so our meeting was cut short.
* * *
Well, there you have it, it’s like going down the rabbit hole. Bob didn’t even know the location of this place. It’s that secretive, and all the searches I did on this came up empty. So, if you’re one of the lucky men, hell, even women who has access, email me and let me know. This is a story that tickles my curiosity. And if it does yours, let us know.
* * *
Oh fuck.
8
Ariel
Checking my emails at work is crazy, I have hundreds of them, all asking for more stories like the one I just did. I smile. It was easy to get, he came to me. Which I thought was interesting considering our last interaction at the club. But he gave the story willingly, and it was an even better story than I was originally after from him, which was to see if he was still dating a Cindy Branston, a popular model. Which, I can confirm now that he isn’t, considering when he left the interview, he propositioned me. Obviously, I turned him down. But I couldn’t say no to the dinner he offered, which is in a few hours.
“Ariel.” I look up as my boss walks in. “The response to the club article is overwhelming. See if you can get any more off of him tonight.”
I nod my head because that was the plan in the first place. I want to know what the guy looked like so I can add it to the next story. See if we can out him. One email in my box says Elite Sex Club. Opening it, I start to read and my body freezes.
* * *
Dear Miss,
* * *
I would think a woman like you would know better. Don’t you think a secret sex club is secret for a reason? Have you thought of what might happen to someone if they should continue to expose such a club?
* * *
Yours sincerely,
Concerned Reader
* * *
I shake my head at the email. Really, I can’t work out if this is a threat or a warning. Either way, I don’t take kindly to either.
* * *
Dear Concerned Reader,
* * *
Your advice has been noted, but not taken. Thank you for your input, and if you have any actual information on such a place, please let me know and we can meet.
* * *
Thank you,
Writer
* * *
I start to read through the others which are of no help. Some are just people mentioning sex clubs or gentlemen clubs that you have to pay to enter. Which most people know about thanks to books and the internet. This place I’m talking about seems to hold the best-kept secret. Bob/Tom told me that it’s been up and running for years and holds its privacy very seriously. He even mentioned that it’s dangerous to speak about. Which is exactly what we just did. We exposed it, but more information is vital to dig further into the story. Just before I go on to the next email, the same email address pops up with a new reply. The whole email is very generic and gives no indication of who it could be. I should ignore it and go to th
e next, but I’m compelled to open it.
* * *
Dear Miss,
* * *
I have all the information on this place that may or may not even exist. This is why I am being a gentleman and offering you the chance to withdraw your story and stop the chase. Cancel dinner tonight, you may not want to attend.
* * *
Yours sincerely,
Concerned reader
* * *
I call down to tech straight away. “Can you trace this email?” They do and call me back in five minutes as I sit here and read the same message over and over again.
“It’s untraceable.”
“Okay, thanks for checking,” I hang up confused.
How the fuck can an email be untraceable?
* * *
Dear Concerned Reader,
* * *
Are you threatening me, now?
* * *
I don’t even end the email, just send as is. And wait for the reply, which is straight away.
* * *
Dear Miss,
* * *
I would never do such a thing. Just a word of warning. How was your Chinese today?
* * *
Yours sincerely,
Concerned Reader
* * *
I slam my laptop shut and look out my office window to the main area. No one is looking in and I don’t understand who’s sending this. It could be a joke, but something inside me is telling me it’s not. But I won’t be intimidated by someone I don’t even know. Throwing my Chinese takeout in the bin, I grab my bag and leave to get ready for tonight. Which I refuse to cancel, no matter how much I want to right now.
The things we do for a story.
He’s dressed in a suit and situated in a private booth all the way at the back. They even have to open a curtain to let me in after I showed them my ID. He stands and offers me his hand. I place mine in it as he leans down to kiss it.
“Ariel, as beautiful as ever.” He offers me a seat, and I have to force a smile because in the back of my mind that email still lingers there. When I look up after I sit his eyes are on me. He’s older than me, there’s no doubt about that. Almost a decade, to be exact. I happen to like my men older than me, the younger ones I’ve met haven’t matured.
“What should I call you? I’m sure you don’t want to be called Bob, and I’m unsure if I should be using your name?” I say referring to the article. And from what I’ve heard he doesn’t like his name either. It brings too much pressure for him. He once quoted that fact in an interview.
“You can call me by my name, Tom will do.”
I nod my head and grab the menu.
“I’m surprised you came, I figured once you got what you wanted you wouldn’t come again.”
I smile at the truth of that statement. Just because he’s famous does not mean I want him, it’s actually quite the opposite. To me, it’s a turn-off. Who wants to be in the spotlight like he is as one of the most famous people in television history? And everywhere he goes, he has at least ten other people close by. Like right now, two of his security guards are situated on the other side of this curtain. One is even in here with us reading a magazine. And I’m sure there’s more hanging around, but I have no interest in it.
“The response to the article has been overwhelming.” To say the least.
“That’s good, right?”
I nod my head, not letting him know about the emails. “Yes. So much so I was wondering if I could ask you just a few more questions.”
He sits back in his seat and looks at the table then to me. “How about, you eat and tell me more about yourself. Then after, for dessert, you can ask me whatever it is you please.”
I smile at him. “I like the sound of that.”
“You like chicken, right? Most women do, so I took the pleasure of ordering for you.”
Two plates arrive at the table and one is placed in front of me. I see the peas on the plate and automatically want to vomit. I look up to Tom, and he smiles as he starts cutting into his steak with mash and fries.
Damn, I want that.
He asks me a few questions, but mainly talks about himself. I bet he hasn’t been on a date before where a woman wasn’t the least bit interested in talking about him. I bet every other woman would pick his brain for every little detail there is to know. Me, well, the details I want to know have nothing to do with him, and everything to do with the club.
“You hardly ate.”
The waiter takes away my plate.
“I’m saving room for dessert.”
A short time later two cheesecake slices are placed in front of us.
Great, I hate cheesecake too.
Why can’t it be chocolate cake? Can you ever go wrong with chocolate? I think not.
“I just want to know… the guy you spoke of, could you describe to me what he looks like?”
“You sure you don’t want anything else? You aren’t even eating your cheesecake?” He avoids the question.
“No, thank you.”
He stands and walks around to where I’m seated, leans down and his mouth lingers on my cheek. “I would invite you back to my place.”
I turn ever so slightly but not so he can touch my lips. “I have to get home.”
“Maybe we can do this again soon?”
I cringe. This is not what I wanted. A damn date. I came for the sole reason to gain information from him. That didn’t happen. Well played, Tom, well played.
“We can see.”
Tom clicks his fingers and his bodyguard stands, opens up the curtain, and waits for him. “I would offer you a ride home, but you insisted to meet me here, so I suspect you drove. It was a pleasure to have you in my company tonight, Ariel. I hope you will allow me the same pleasure again. Until then, I bid you goodnight and sweet dreams.” He kisses my cheek, and I hold back the urge to wipe it off the minute his lips leave my skin. I smile at him when he leaves and stay seated until I see him and his entourage walk out the door.
Pressing call, I ring my boss. “He gave me shit all.”
“See him again.”
“I don’t want to, I don’t like him.” I shake the thought of him touching me off.
“If you want the story, these are the lengths you have to go to. Believe me, I have been through worse.” She goes quiet. “He can’t be that bad, he’s famous and good-looking.”
“Maybe you should meet him.”
“He won’t want me. I’m old. You’re young with great tits and awesome legs. You got this.”
“I don’t have this.” I shake my head. “He makes me cringe.”
The waitress, who I didn’t see come in, gasps softly at my words but enough so I can hear, and I turn to look at her.
“I have to go,” I say into the phone.
“Think of the promotion,” she yells as I hang up.
“Was there anything else you needed? Is the bill paid?” The waiter looks down, nods her head then she grabs the plates but won’t look at me.
“If that will be all miss?” She walks fast and I’m almost afraid she may drop the plates on the floor as she leaves. I forgot people’s love for him. Almost. Reaching for my cell, I pull it open to the work emails. When the waitress steps back in, I interrupt her clearing the table.
“Can you please get me the brownie that I saw on the menu?”
“But your bill has been paid.”
“I’ll pay for it. Please, get me one.”
She removes the cheesecake from in front of me then walks off, not once looking at me.
* * *
Dear Miss,
* * *
I see he didn’t tell you what you wanted to hear, that’s probably best.
* * *
Yours sincerely,
Concerned Reader
9
Falcon
I can’t believe she’s still pursuing this, and if I said anything it would just put the nail in the coffin. She could take this a whole l
ot further than it needs to be. If she took it further, I’m afraid of what might actually happen to her. Not for the fact that I want to fuck her. But because she’s Tracey’s best friend, and in being so, it’s part of my job to look after her as well. But how can I do that if she keeps digging her own damn grave?
The emails clearly don’t scare her if she still met with him. I sat at the front of that restaurant and watched, while the security guard on Tom’s detail told me everything. He was once a worker for me and is very loyal when paid the right amount.
I either have to scare her more or Darby will take matters into his own hands, even if he knows and likes her. Especially, when it comes to our business. He takes that more seriously than the rest of us. To him, it’s his baby, and nothing will get in the way of that. Not even one of us. Luckily for us, we haven’t, as we each love what we do and bring to the business. The sex club is our lives. We thrive in each position we hold and excel in all things sex. So, it was a match made in heaven when he thought of the idea all those years ago.
