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“One drink, you come clean, then I’ll leave.”
He nodded, and we fastened our masks. Frank made another selfie—which again, I sent to Sophie.
Heading in now.
He opened the door, and instead of a small, dark entrance area as I expected, we entered a big, glamorous, well-lit hall, complete with marble floors, stone columns, and an oversized ceiling fresco—which would be perfectly suitable for a ball right out of a Jane Austen novel.
What on earth was this place?
I gaped and stared while Frank led me to a small desk on the right side of the room.
A slender woman, clad in a leather mini, and a muscular guy, in leather pants and an open leather vest—and nothing else except their masks—greeted us.
“I’ve already signed us in,” Frank said. “You only need to show them your ID and sign the NDA.”
Sign an NDA? Was he serious?
I stared Frank down until the woman behind the desk handed me a clipboard and waited until I gave her my ID.
“Is this really necessary? Can’t we go somewhere else and talk? Or maybe, let’s stay up here.” I gestured at the hall. “It’s a perfect place to talk.”
Frank cocked his head and seemed to think about that before he shook his head. “Let’s head on down to the bar; it’s the perfect first time being back in a club for you. Jump into the water but not the deep end? It’s exposure therapy.” He raised a single eyebrow.
He was challenging me—doing exactly what I’d asked him to do.
Maybe this was a good first step. Watch, take in the atmosphere, but only as a spectator with someone by my side whom I knew I could trust.
“Come on, Fee. One drink, I’ll tell you what’s going on. You can just sign this—there’s nothing out of the ordinary in there. Trust me.”
Trust him. Before his call yesterday, I would’ve said I trusted him implicitly, but something was off. And I wanted to know what.
I looked back at the guy in the leather vest. “I’m not signing away my life with this, am I?”
Leather-vest guy chuckled, took the clipboard from me, the muscles in his pecs flexing. “You’re basically agreeing that you’re actively participating, that you’re not law enforcement or a journalist and will not reveal anything that’s going on or the identity of any member of the party.”
He gave me a cheeky half-smile and a wink. “But if you’re up to being sold”—he let his gaze wander over my body, starting from my feet upwards until his eyes met mine again—“I’m sure we can find enough parties of interest to start a bidding war.”
I swallowed, then elbow-checked Frank who was chuckling right next to me.
“Not funny.” I glared at him. But ironically, Leather-vest’s humor put me at ease.
“Also, before entrance, you will be searched,” Leather-vest said with a wink.
I raised my eyebrows. “Searched?”
“No weapons of any kind allowed in there,” Frank said with a strange undertone. “No exceptions.”
I gave him a curious glance, but his face revealed nothing but a smile when he looked me straight in the eyes.
I sucked in a breath. All of this sounded reassuring enough.
But ultimately, I didn’t feel comfortable being here. But how could I be? When I was still battling with the consequences of the kidnapping.
I straightened. Maybe I would never feel comfortable in a sex club again. But at least I would face my fear.
And thank God, no one besides Sophie knew I was here because I could just imagine how this would go down if Alex knew.
“I still don’t understand why we couldn’t have just talked in a nice cafe, or over a delicious plate of pasta. But let’s do this.” I reached out, Leather-vest gave me the clipboard, and I signed the damn thing.
