by Aria Grace
I take a bite of my turkey club sandwich as I contemplate Hunter’s question. “I guess I’d have to say boxer briefs. I’ve never actually worn boxers, and I haven’t worn regular briefs since I was a kid.”
Hunter nods in approval. “Yeah, me too. I wore briefs until high school, but once I had to start changing in the locker room, I realized real quick that tighty whiteys weren’t cool.”
I grin, picturing a nerdy fourteen-year-old Hunter with glasses and crisp white briefs. “I’m sure you were adorable.”
He rolls his eyes and groans. “Thanks. That’s totally what I’m going for right now.”
Hunter is one of the first friends I made in Las Vegas. He grew up in town and knows everything there is to know about the city. After hanging out with him and his friends a few times, I was convinced that the University of Nevada, Las Vegas with the college for me. I’ve been working at the college while getting the last few classes I need to enroll next semester, but I try to hang out with Hunter as often as possible. He’s a cool guy.
When we first met, his friends, Chloe and Ruby, seemed destined to set us up, but after a long heart to heart, we both agreed there wasn’t a true connection between us. And although I was tempted to at least hook up with him to get some experience with guys, I didn’t want to hurt him if he got attached.
That’s when we agreed to stay close friends without benefits. It was awkward for a few days, but we quickly got to the point where we just really liked being around each other.
“What ever happened with that guy from your Humanities class?” I open my bag of chips and toss one into my mouth.
“Nothing.” Hunter looks down at the sandwich in his hand. “I still don’t have the balls to talk to him.”
“Hunter.” I reach for his hand and give it a squeeze so he looks up at me. “You’re sweet and funny and sexy as hell. If he’s not interested it’s because of him, not because of you. Just ask if he wants to get coffee after class and see what happens. If he seems totally not into you, at least you tried.”
“I guess.”
He doesn’t look convinced, so I tap his foot under the table with mine. “You’re gorgeous. Go for it.”
A few days later, I’m sitting at my desk, putting grades into the computer, when Professor Ryan pokes his head through the door. “Can I interrupt?”
“Yes, of course.” I turn away from the monitor and give him my full attention. “What’s up?”
“Great job on the survey. We’re getting way more participation than we have on any of the previous surveys. I think people are responding to the fancy colors and logos you used.”
I grin at his lack of marketing experience. “I’m glad I could help. If there’s anything else you need me to do, just say so.”
“Well…” Professor Ryan steps fully into my office. “Now that we’re some good getting data, we need to start evaluating it.”
“Do you want me to organize it or something?” I grab my pen to jot down his instructions.
“If you could, that’d be great. Just export the data into Excel and then highlight the feedback that you think is most interesting.”
“Um, okay, but…” I tap the pen on the desk, hoping I don’t sound too stupid. “What should I be looking for? It’ll probably all be interesting to me.”
Professor Ryan chuckles as he leans against the door frame. “You’ll know the good stuff when you see it. Most people will have safe answers like their heart races or they get jumpy. You can flag those in one color. But if there are any that stand out to you as different from the others, flag those in a different color. I’ll review them all, but it’ll help me filter if you’ve done some of the initial screenings.”
“Will do.” Once Professor Ryan is out of my line of sight, I turn back to the computer and save the file I was working on. Reading the personal confessions of students and faculty sounds way more interesting.
It takes almost an hour of me cleansing and filtering the data before I even start to read the responses. Like the professor warned, most are pretty boring. A lot of answers are obviously bullshit and most of those either include generic examples of having made unethical decisions or were so extreme that they were probably made up for the shock value alone.
But a few stand out.
For example, there’s one student, identified only as male student C83441, who describes cheating on the S.A.T. test by paying someone from a different school to take it for him. He claimed to be nauseous on the days leading up to the test and guilt riddled after the test was taken. When he finally received a near perfect score back, he confided in his bishop and then his mother. Both suggested he use prayer to absolve himself of his guilt, but this guy still feels the ramifications of his unethical decision when he takes college-level exams and struggles a lot more than any student with high S.A.T. scores should.
There are several examples like that, but my mouth goes dry and I start to experience a stress reaction to one of the last entries on the spreadsheet.
Male student C87264 lists having an aggressive reaction to being faced with unethical decisions. He cites his recent choice to work at a male brothel just outside of town. He claims that he agreed to a one-year contract in order to earn enough money to pay off his college tuition, but he hates himself and his clients more and more every night. He goes on to explain that the only way to absolve himself of the bad things he’s doing is to make the men who hire him suffer for their poor decisions.
He doesn’t say anything else, but I know this is serious and Professor Ryan needs to know about this immediately. But I don’t want to tell him about The Vault or my connection to it if he’s not aware of it. Tanner is the professor’s friend, but he never told me how they met. He only said they’ve known each other for years and that Professor Ryan is a good man. If that’s the case, Tanner probably doesn’t want me to divulge his seedier business dealings to his friend.
I consider going to Tanner, but I don’t have much information yet. The survey is anonymous and without knowing who is both a student and an employee at The Vault, there isn’t much to tell. As far as I know, there’s a bunch of brothels outside the city of Las Vegas and this student isn’t connected to my family’s business at all.
But I won’t know for sure unless I talk to someone. And the only person I want to approach with this is Asher.
Four
Asher
When I walk into work, Johnny is huddled with Daniel at the front desk.
“Everything okay?” I ask, resting my folded arms on the counter. “You look stressed.”
Johnny closes his eyes and throws his head back. “Yeah, we’ve got a situation. Let’s go to your office.”
“Don’t worry, boss.” Daniel scoots closer to the computer keyboard. “I’ll pull the records and send you a report within the hour.”
Johnny rests his hand on Daniel’s shoulder and gives him a shake. “Thanks, man. You’re a lifesaver.”
He beams as he looks up at Johnny, his eyes practically sparkling. “That’s what I’m here for.”
“Johnny?” I can’t hide the annoyance in my tone. I’m not jealous at their banter, but Daniel is an employee. And now that Johnny is the director of security, he needs to be smart about who he flirts with. “This sounds urgent.”
“Right, yeah.” He straightens his back and heads out the door toward my office. “I just got a call that I’m not sure how to react to.”
Once we’re both within the privacy of my office, I lean against my desk and cross my arms over my chest. “What’s up?”
Johnny drops into the chair in front of me. “You know Drew Draper? He’s the guy who joined last Christmas when he moved here from Austin?”
“Yeah, older guy. He’s in oil or something like that.”
“That’s him.” Johnny rests his ankle on his opposite knee and slides back in the chair. “His wife just called and said he’s dead. He offed himself in their garage and she’s going through his calendar to cancel his app
ointments.”
“Damn.” I slide my fingers through my hair, sad to hear that one of our members is dead. “That’s terrible.”
Johnny taps his jaw with one finger. “Well, the weird part is that when I looked in the calendar to cancel his appointment it showed up as cancelled. I did a quick check of his last few appointments and they were cancelled too. But I know I’ve seen him here every week.”
“Yeah, I saw him a few days ago. What do you think’s going on?”
Before Johnny can respond, the phone rings and I hit the speaker button. “Asher.”
“Hi, Asher. I have that report Johnny’s waiting for.”
“Thanks, Daniel. Please bring it in.”
Thirty seconds later, Daniel hands me the printed report with all of Mr. Draper’s appointments. “Looks like he’s been in twice a week for the past few months.”
“Really?” Johnny reaches for the printout. “When I checked, they were all cancelled?”
Daniel looks nervous as he shrugs in Johnny’s direction. “I’m not sure which report you ran but this one shows a visit every Tuesday and Thursday.”
“Shit.” Johnny studies the paper intently before handing it back to me. “Maybe I ran the wrong report. I’m still trying to figure out this new system.”
“Thanks, Daniel.” I stand up and politely dismiss him. “This is exactly what we needed.”
“Anytime.” He smiles proudly then leaves my office, closing the door behind him.
“I swear those all showed as cancelled. I’m not sure what I could have selected to get the complete opposite results.”
I step around to the other side of my desk and dock my laptop. “Don’t worry about it. You’ve been under a lot of pressure and the new system is confusing. It’s easy to read things wrong when you’re not sure what you’re looking for.”
“Yeah, maybe.” Johnny shoves up out of the chair with a distraught look. “I’ve been binge watching Riverdale for the past few nights. Maybe I just need more sleep.”
“I’m sure that’s it. Don’t beat yourself up. The important thing is that everything looks good on our end, so no further stress needed.”
Johnny laughs as he opens the door to leave. “From your lips…”
The next day, I’m out on the floor watching a wax play scene unfold in the main lounge when I get a call from Daniel. “Mr. Ian Johnson is here to see you.”
Ian is here to see me? At night, when the club is open? “I’ll be right out.”
After texting Johnny to let him know I’m leaving the floor, I go out to the lobby to find Ian. He’s sitting at the edge of the sofa and pounces to his feet when he sees me. “I’m sorry to bother you, Asher.”
“You’re no bother, Ian.” I smile, genuinely happy to see him even though he seems upset. “Let’s go to my office.”
“Sure, thanks.”
Instead of taking him out the way I came, we exit through the door on the other side which leads directly to the offices. Tanner made it very clear that Ian wasn’t to spend any time on the floor during business hours, and I don’t need any other reasons for Tanner to be pissed at me. He was clearly annoyed when I dropped in on him at home for the signature, so I need to kiss his ass for a while. “Right through here.”
When we get into my office, I take a seat at the far end of the loveseat instead of in one of the chairs. It’s forward and not exactly in line with not pissing off my boss, but if my knee rubbing against his is the closest I ever get to Ian Johnson, it’ll be better than nothing.
Ian sits down beside me and slides his hands down his thighs as if trying to dry off sweaty palms.
“What’s up?”
Ian takes a deep breath before looking at me. “I saw a weird message that might not be related to The Vault at all…but I wanted to talk to you about it before bringing it up to my dad, just in case it’s nothing.”
“You can tell me anything, Ian. It’ll stay between us if that’s how you want it to be. I swear.”
The corners of his lips tilt up and he exhales loudly. “Okay, here goes. I’m working on an ethics survey for the psychology department at the university and someone responded and said he works at a male brothel outside of town. Are there others or is The Vault the only one?”
“There are a couple, but you have to know people to find them. What else did this person say?”
Ian sticks his finger in his mouth as if he’s going to chew the nail but immediately catches himself and slips his hands under his thighs. “He said he signed a contract for a year, but he hates what he’s doing and the only way he can justify it is to hurt his clients.”
Fuck, that doesn’t sound good. “He specifically said there was a contact for a year?”
Ian nods, biting his lip in lieu of his fingernail. “Yeah. Does that matter?”
I stand up and pace in front of him. “We’re the only place I know of that asks for a twelve-month commitment. Most are at-will and people just come and go.”
“So, he probably does work here?” Ian says it as if he knew the answer before he got here but was hoping it wasn’t true.
“Most likely.” I sit down again, trying to calm both my nerves and Ian’s. “Did he say anything else? Do you know his name?”
Ian thinks hard for a moment before shaking his head. “It’s a short survey so the responses weren’t too detailed. The only identifiers we use are gender and relationship to the university. Male student is pretty much all I know. Are there any guys here taking classes at UNLV?”
I nod and throw my head back on the sofa. “A few. We started a program to audit or attend classes this fall. I’ll ask Daniel to pull a list. Apparently, he’s the only one who knows how to use our new systems.”
“So, what should I do?” Ian asks, obviously eager to help.
“What do you mean?”
He shrugs. “Well, should I talk to my professor or Tanner? I don’t want some guy going around and hurting your clients. If there’s something I can do to help, I want to.”
“No fucking way. Tanner would kill me with his bare hands if he knew you were involved in any shit going on here.” The hurt look in Ian’s eyes has me softening my tone. “But I’ll talk to Johnny to see what he thinks. Maybe he’s seen or heard something that might be a clue.”
“Yeah, okay.” Ian stands to leave. “If you hear anything, maybe we can meet for coffee to talk about it.”
Dammit, this guy is gonna get me fired. I know I need to steer clear of Ian Johnson, but when he stares up at me with those big, innocent brown eyes, I just want to pull him into my arms and protect him from all the evils of the world.
And kiss him. I definitely want to kiss him too.
“Coffee sounds nice.” I hold his gaze as I pat his knee. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”
Five
Ian
The next day, I watch my phone like a twelve-year-old girl, waiting for Asher to get back to me. When he finally calls and asks if we can meet up at the Starbucks near the university, I almost drop my phone in a puddle while I’m trying to reply.
“Sure. Four is good.”
“I’m looking forward to it.” He hangs up as if he’s in the middle of something and a smile forms at the possibility of him fitting me into his busy schedule.
I’m scheduled to work until four, so I skip my breaks and take off at three thirty. I end up arriving fifteen minutes early and am surprised to see Asher already sitting on a plush chair in the corner.
He smiles broadly when he sees me, lifting his jacket off the chair beside him. “Hey, Ian. Thanks for coming by on short notice.”
“I’m glad you called.” I realize how desperate that sounds and try to cover it up with a joke. “My caffeine buzz is dwindling down to a dull tap.”
The corner of Asher’s mouth pulls up in a half smile as he watches me sit. “You’re so cute.”
“What?” I’m sure my jaw is almost touching the floor. I’m practically buoyant from the compliment.
T
he smile fades from his lips, and he seems mortified. “No, I mean, sure. Uh, yeah, of course.”
“Oh.” That was obviously a slipup on his part. Maybe he was thinking of someone else, but whoever it was, he didn’t mean me. “Right.”
“No, Ian.” Asher closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. “You’re beautiful. And I’m not the only one who thinks so.”
“You’re not?” I whisper, totally stunned by his declaration. “Who else?”
Asher looks uncomfortable, but he clears his throat. “Johnny has said so…and Liam.”
I can’t help smiling, but I let the topic drop, not wanting to turn this into an ego stroking event when I’m kinda hoping at least some part of this coffee meeting will earn the status of date by the time we leave. “Anyway, how are things with you?”
“Not great.” The lines in Asher’s forehead are back and slightly bulging as he explains what’s been going on. “Johnny has a short list of guys who could be your psych student. But, before we make any accusations, we need to get more proof. Is there any way you can get a name from the survey takers? Maybe lookup their IP addresses?”
I pull my lip between my teeth and yank on it just to have a small, centralized sting of pain to focus on. “Maybe. But I’ll need to talk to my professor about it.”
Asher looks me right in the eye. “Is it Chase Ryan?”
“Yeah, it is.” I lean closer, so we can keep our voices low. “How did you know?”
Asher glances around the room then says the words I’m both grateful and embarrassed to hear. “He’s a client.”
Asher orders our drinks then waits at the counter for them, giving me a few minutes alone to think about what I’ve just learned. If Professor Ryan is a customer of The Vault, then he pays for rough and kinky sex with prostitutes. He might have even slept with Tanner or…Asher.
The idea turns my stomach and I’m tempted to bolt from the café before Asher returns with our drinks. He hands mine to me and then slowly slips into his chair, staring at me like I’m an injured animal. “Are you okay? You look a little green.”
