by Colt, Elodie
‘Or maybe you’re looking for something else. Something without commitment. Something without emotional attachment. Something more sensual.’
What Zoya doesn’t know is I do, in fact, have a love life. Not the most satisfying one, but ‘satisfaction’ has a different meaning for a morbid bitch like me.
I meant it when I told Zoya I could handle women better than men, but she has no clue that I’m well acquainted with the scissor-sisters concept. I’m still ninety-nine percent hetero, but I wrote off men a long time ago, and even if I enjoy my solitude and refuse to open up to anyone, I want to feel skin from time to time.
I tell myself that it’s enough, but a plump tit will never feel like a hard chest. A slim waist will never feel like steel-hard abs. A pussy will never, ever feel like a cock.
And the vibrator in my drawer will never feel like a real, hot cock, either.
I heave a deep sigh, my fingers tightening around my phone. I don’t want a lifelong partner. I don’t want a husband. I don’t even want a fucking relationship.
What I want is someone who’s there when I want him and leaves when I want him gone. Someone who fucks me when I need it and holds me when I crave it. Someone who knows me but will never know who I really am.
But what I want is impossible to find.
And impossible to get as long as I don’t pull my head out of my butt.
“This is insane,” I mutter, shaking my head as I fight an inner war.
On the other hand, clicking that button won’t throw me into the lion’s den, right? I can make an appointment, pay them a visit, and turn tail. I have some stuff to do in Manhattan anyway, so it won’t kill me to check out eNtimacy’s headquarters and stay for a cup of premium coffee.
Do it.
Do it!
I click the button.
eNtimacy headquarters.
Half as big as the Trump Tower and just as fancy. Another soulless skyscraper adding to the Manhattan skyline.
Hundreds of black glass windows rise up from the bottom to the top only to finish in a golden, pointed tip. The entire building glitters in the sunlight, but the clouds now shaping on the sky dull the effect.
People bustle about, ready to proceed work after lunch. As usual, no one pays attention to me standing there on the sidewalk. With a final glance at my watch, I venture inside.
The moment I step through the doors, I realize my conventional attire was the wrong choice. I wanted to blend in with my stone-washed jeans, boots, and leather jacket, but all I see is silk pants, shiny shoes, and tailored blazers.
Duh, what did you expect?
This place screams high-end service and extravagance.
Brushing a hand over my hair, I attempt to smooth my flat-helmet hairstyle before I approach the reception desk spreading over the entire length of the top-notch lobby.
“Good afternoon,” a receptionist greets me, flashing me a megawatt smile. She would be way prettier without her tight hairdo that stretches her face to the point it looks painful. “How can I help you?”
“Ella Jenkins,” I say. “I have an appointment—”
“With Kate Dugan at three o’clock,” she finishes for me with a nod, her eyes on the monitor in front of her. “Welcome to eNtimacy, Ms. Jenkins. Please, take a seat. We’ll call you out shortly.”
I grab a mint from the bowl in front of me and then shuffle over to the seating area, sinking into the plush cushion of the designer sofa. While the customers bide their time flipping through magazines, I let the chimes coming from an invisible sound system and the scent of room air fresheners wash over me.
The daylight flooding through the window panels illuminates the lobby’s rich decoration, showcasing the fire-red chairs, black-potted plants, and golden lamps for all the pedestrians on Third Ave to admire.
A horrible sound grates on my ears, and I flinch, nearly choking on the mint in my mouth. Slowly turning around, I glare at the chubby guy who just cracked his knuckles.
To hell with everyone who cracks their knuckles in my presence. It was Luka’s most annoying quirk. He felt the need to do it all the time, and it made me crazy long before he became my personal shadow.
Ignoring me, the dude makes the bones in his fingers creak again, and I grind my jaw. I’m just about to give him a piece of my mind when someone calls my name.
“Ella Jenkins?”
A woman with caramel skin and bouncy, brown-sugar corkscrews glides toward me. Quickly composing myself, I get up and shake the hand she extends.
“A pleasure to meet you,” she says. “My name is Kate, and I’m here to answer all your questions today. Follow me, please.”
Not waiting for my introduction, she pivots on her heels, and I tag along as she leads me through the spacious hallway where rooms branch off in every direction. She opens a door to her right and invites me into a squeaky-clean but cozy office.
“Coffee? Tea?” she asks.
“Coffee, black, sugar,” is my flat response as I set down my helmet on a nearby table.
“Are you from Russia?”
“No,” I deadpan, making a mental note to tamp down my accent.
Kate smiles, unperturbed by my lack of cordiality, and motions for me to take a seat in front of her desk while the coffee maker hums in the corner.
Other than a bouquet of flowers, only a big canvas on the wall adorns the room, one that shows the Silent Sins logo and the tagline ‘We light up your match’ on a golden-sprinkled background.
Kate sets down a plate with a steaming cup of coffee, two pieces of sugar, and a cookie in front of me. I nod in thanks.
“Alright…” Smoothing down her white blouse, she folds her body onto the leather chair behind her desk. “First of all, thank you for signing up for—”
“My sister signed me up,” I cut right in.
Kate seems nice, but I don’t trust this whole Silent Sins shit. Better to make that clear upfront.
She tilts her head, regarding me with a curious expression. “You sound like you’re not happy about that.”
I scrape my teeth over my lip. “Let’s just say, I have my issues with online dating stuff.”
“Why are you here, then?”
“Not sure yet,” is my noncommittal answer. “I don’t know shit about this program.”
She entwines her hands on the desk. “Are you familiar with the concept of love hotels?”
Pursing my lips, I reach for my coffee to take a sip. “You pay for a fancy room so you can fuck in private.”
“Pretty much, yeah.” She chuckles, flashing a set of gleaming white teeth. “Silent Sins follows the same concept, but one of the many differences is that we take away your ability to see.”
I set down my cup, frowning. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“The rooms are dark. No windows, no light. We take ‘sensual’ to a new level,” she recites the slogan. “You stay anonymous at all times. You can talk to your partner, you can touch your partner, but you will never know who the other is. You will never know their names, their numbers, or their looks. Their true identity will stay a secret, just like yours.”
She leans back in her chair, as if watching me trying to make sense of her words. I come up empty.
“Why the hell would I want to fuck a stranger I can’t see?” I retort with a shake of my head, but she looks as if she expected my response.
“Because we find the best match for you.”
I gawk at her, my eyebrows nearly meeting my hairline.
“Let me explain it to you,” she says. “First, all of your personal information stays confidential, including your name. Every member has a code name. As an accountant, I know my clients, but I don’t know the clients of the other accountants.”
I slurp my coffee, waiting for her to cut to the chase and tell me why the hell I should sign up for this.
“We find potential partners for you based on the information you provide. After we get the results, we’ll show you your three best matches.
If you agree to proceed, we set up a meeting with your best match. This meeting is the only one we initiate. All subsequent meetings—or rather, dates—are up to you.”
“Wait…” I hold up a hand. “What if my match is someone I know? A friend or, fuck, a relative?”
“That’s why we require detailed personal information beforehand, including official documents and access to your social media accounts. Family, friends, colleagues—our algorithm wards them off. To be on the safe side, we keep a large distance between the matches, so there’s no risk you end up with your neighbor.”
“How large?” I demand with narrowed eyes.
“We keep a safe zone of a few miles,” she explains. “If we find matches that are closer to each other, our algorithm conducts a thorough research to make sure the two don’t have any relation to each other.”
I tap my finger against the desk, taking my time to process. “Okay, what happens after I find a match?”
“You get access to our online membership area where you choose a location and set a time for the first meeting.”
“What kind of locations?”
Kate shrugs. “We have rooms in hotels, clubs, and casinos. eNtimacy owns various venues around the city. You both choose whatever location suits you and is vacant at the time.”
Wow, they have thought of everything.
“During the meeting, you get to know your partner, so you can decide if you want to take the next step or not,” she goes on. “If you agree to a date, you send an online invitation. Your partner can accept or decline. If you’d rather want to meet someone else, we go on to your next match.”
Exhaling through my nose, I scratch my chin in thought while Kate watches my inner turmoil with a knowing smile.
“Come on, I’ll take you on a tour,” she announces and gets up.
I have no idea what she wants to show me, but I follow her outside, nonetheless.
This is crazy, I think when we take a turn and step into an elevator. You’re not considering this. Not really. Let her show you around, and then you make your escape.
After some time of silent elevator-riding, we come to a stop. The metal doors slide open, and I tag along behind Kate as we cross what looks like a club on the top floor. A barkeeper shuffles around, getting the club ready for the night. Kate guides me through a door at the other end, one that leads to a narrow passageway.
“This is how a Silent Sin venue looks like,” Kate says. “You and your partner pass through separate passageways. To ensure your anonymity, we provide discreet entrances and exits.”
We proceed with our hike until we reach the end of the aisle where Kate stops in front of another door.
“Here, you check in with the bracelet we provide and go through a security check where a guard takes your personal belongings. Phones and other devices forbidden, of course.”
Sounds reassuring. Not.
Stepping through the door, we enter a small but modern bathroom.
“This is where you can freshen up. We provide everything you’d also find in a hotel with the exception of any sharp objects. And as soon as you do this”—she moves on to the next door, this one made of milky glass, and swipes her wrist over a scanner on the side—“you are blind.”
The lights go out at the same time as the door slides open with a hiss, vanishing into the wall. The room behind is completely dark, but soft lighting, similar to glow-in-the-dark stars frame the contours, allowing you to navigate through the space. Kate gives me a minute to take in my surroundings before the lights turn back on.
“Only the staff has the keys to switch on the lights in The Room,” Kate goes on while I take in what can only be described as a soft, fluffy chamber.
Every wall is coated in black fur, every surface covered in black, flossy fabrics. The floor is one, huge carpet. There are no legs on the table that looks more like a furry pedestal, and the two chairs in the windowless room seamlessly mold into the walls. A huge bed is positioned on the other side, the sheets made of dark silk.
“As you can see, everything is designed so you don’t bump into anything or hurt yourself. We have multiple ventilation shafts to ensure sufficient air circulation. This is just a showroom, though, without the usual accessories. The entire room is soundproof, by the way.”
I inspect my surroundings closely, my steps noiseless on the plush floor as I amble around the room. There’s a second door on the opposite side.
“This is the door your partner uses,” Kate explains. A blue dot glows above while the door I came through is marked with a red dot.
“Red for the women, and blue for the men?” I muse with a chuckle.
“Yes.”
“What if both partners are women or men?”
Kate grins. “We can switch to pink and purple at any time.”
I snort, sauntering through the room, my fingers grazing over the soft surfaces. For a moment, I can see myself splayed out on the silky sheets, a faceless man above me, his hand buried in my hair.
“You can be whoever you want in here,” Kate drawls, spreading her arms, “be it the sweet girl next door or the dominant mistress. Your choice.”
“What if something happens?” I want to know. “What if I change my mind when I’m in here? What if….” Someone hurts me? “What if I need to get out?”
“There are two buttons on your bracelet. When you press the yellow button, the doors start to blink, signaling your partner to retreat. Once you’re back in your changing room, the door locks behind you.”
I give a slow nod but bite my lip, still unconvinced.
“When you press the red button,” she continues, “your security guard will be notified to get you out.”
Frowning, I ask, “Get me out how? Wouldn’t they need to turn on the lights?”
“No. They have night vision goggles.” She pushes away from the door and walks over to me, her look tender. “I can assure you, this never happened before. Our members pay for our services and know that there are consequences in case of security breaches or acts of violence.”
She motions for me to follow her outside.
“So, each venue looks like this?” I ask as we make our way back to her office. “Two passageways, two changing rooms, one love room?”
“Correct.”
“How many venues are there in New York?”
She smirks. “Enough.”
“How many members do you have?”
“Enough to find you the perfect match,” is her vague answer as we return to her office. “Silent Sins is not as new as you might think. We’ve been running it for years, but up until recently, it was only a top-secret program for the high society. Politicians, actors, celebrities… They all sign up to escape their million-dollar lives.”
“And you offer me all this for free just because I landed a spot at your case study?” I probe.
“Yes,” she confirms, and I can’t help but shake my head slightly. “I know you have a lot of questions, and I’ll be happy to stay at your disposal should you want to give it a try.” Grabbing a pile of glossy magazines from her desk, she presses them into my hands. “This is not a decision to make overnight. Take a few days to think about it.”
“Okay.” Clamping the magazines under my arm, I take my helmet and make my way to the door.
“Ella?”
Hand on the door handle, I turn around.
“Just keep in mind what Silent Sins is. If you’re looking for your future husband, you’re better off with a regular eNtimacy membership.”
I utter a dry laugh. “Do I look like someone who’s waiting for her future husband?”
“No.” She tilts her head, sizing me up with a solemn smile on her lips. “But you look like someone who’s waiting for… the perfect match.”
My job and I have a difficult relationship. Some sort of love-hate dependency that gives me many sleepless nights.
Love because diamonds speak with their colors. They can’t cheat. They can’t lie. They are perfect i
n every way.
Hate because it’s hard to find diamonds in a world full of rhinestones.
And when you’re a C-list celebrity like me, constantly surrounded by real gems and fake people, you need a change of scenery from time to time.
Not that I’m Kit Harington who finds himself surrounded by paparazzi as soon as he shows up in public—albeit, I’m just as handsome—but I’ve signed the occasional autograph and have been featured in a few teenage girl selfies. In New York City, people wait for a celebrity to run by.
Not so here in Brighton Beach, the so-called ‘Little Odessa’ where there are more Russians and Ukrainians than natives. I work seventy hours a week, but I take the one-hour drive every day first thing in the morning to get a clear head.
There’s a top-notch home gym in the Crawford Crescent building just a few stories below my office, but pushing barbells isn’t my cup of tea. I like to inhale the salty air as I run through the city and do some push-ups on the beach.
The pendant around my neck sticks to my sweaty skin as I jog past the shops and storefront windows. Summer is over, a chilly autumn breeze letting dead leaves slide across the ground, but that doesn’t keep the locals from playing chess outdoors or the kids from freezing their asses off in shorts and cropped tops as they loiter about in front of the school.
My gaze falls on a billboard showing an ad from eNtimacy that hooks people with a first-month-free promotion. That shit is all over the country now. Carl called again yesterday selling me his new hotshot program.
Silent Sins…
It sounds like the perfect opportunity. I haven’t touched a woman ever since my hand grazed Aiko’s the day we signed the divorce papers. My balls are bluer than the Ceylon sapphire from the Titanic movie. I think I already forgot how to fuck.
I push my feet on the pavement, trying to keep my breaths even as I snake my way through pedestrians, bikers, and skateboarders. I pass a café where a handful of people lounge on the chairs outside, and my gaze lands on a man sitting in the farthest corner, halfway hidden behind a potted plant. With his hat drawn low and the collar of his coat pushed up to his chin, he flips the pages of the newspaper in his hands. He looks like a spy from the old movies with black sunglasses on his nose, and he peeks over his rims, his eyes riveted on an apartment complex on the other side of the street.
