“Fine, and what do we do for a living?”
“I work in marketing. You’re an accountant.”
“Bingo. Come on, Bernie, let’s bore the pants off these people and find Verena.”
Out in the lounge, with its neon backlighting and numerous flat-screens, Utopia Six looked like a sports bar at first glance, though the videos playing behind the bar were spicier than the average rugby match. As Sterling and Fernando entered, an attendant provided them with clean towels to lay on their seats, in case they opted for a state of undress as the night wore on. Hygiene first, darling.
Fernando ordered a scotch from a petite woman with a platinum undercut. She winked at Sterling and poured her an Aperol spritz she hadn’t ordered. Sterling couldn’t remember the bartender’s name, only that she was a good kisser. She accepted the free drink, asking how things were.
“Busy. It’s hard to keep good staff around,” said the bartender.
Sterling leaned closer and said in a conspiratorial whisper, “Seen Harry around recently?”
“Asking for a friend?” said the bartender warily.
“Asking for myself.”
“Like I said, it’s been hard to keep staff lately, and Harry’s someone I might ask for help in such a situation.”
“She’s been working here?”
“I’m not in the business of sharing anyone else’s business. You wouldn’t like it the other way around.”
True. The staff had seen things Sterling didn’t want broadcast. Luckily, since it was a straight club, the staff here had never seen Fernando before.
The lavender syrup had been pulled down from the shelf. Which meant Verena was here, probably in back. Many couples still lingered in the bar, working up the courage to invite couples beside them to the playrooms in back. Sterling headed past them, dragging Fernando by his belt buckle.
Music grew louder as they stepped farther into the dark hall, passing a giggling woman whipping a man strapped to a St. Andrew’s cross. Sterling noted her lousy form, thinking she should straighten her wrist. A trio, two men and one woman, blocked the first playroom’s doorway. One guy reached out and groped Sterling’s left breast. She snarled, and Fernando slapped the guy’s hand away, glaring.
Fernando shielded Sterling protectively as they squeezed past the creep.
“Let’s report that sleazeball to the staff,” he whispered before nibbling her earlobe.
“Not now. We can’t make a scene. We need to find Verena.”
The Great Room was around the corner. Fernando and Sterling took a deep breath before they entered. Neon-blue lights. Pounding music. Passionate moans. Long black pleather couches lining mirrored walls. Play pillows of every shape and size scattered about, bodies of every shape and size draped across them, swaying in sensual motion.
Verena was kneeling in the back corner, entertaining a standingman while his partner watched from a nearby lounge chair, touching herself. It’d be difficult to get answers from Verena now, seeing as her mouth was occupied. The man grabbed a fistful of her hair, eyes nearly closed in ecstasy. She was skilled at her job. This wouldn’t take long.
The man moaned in pleasure, locking eyes with his partner on the couch as they climaxed together, while apart. Verena pulled back, wiping the corner of her mouth and catching her breath while the guy kissed his partner. Sterling’s jaw dropped. He hadn’t been wearing a condom.
The Verena she knew would never.
Verena grimaced, then took a long sip of her lavender lemonade. When she noticed Sterling, her face fell in shame. It was hard to see in the blue lighting, but it appeared she was hiding more than one bruise under carefully positioned pieces of lace, including one around her collar.
“We need to talk,” said Sterling.
Verena moved closer and pulled them in. This wasn’t a place to be seen hanging about and chatting.
“No. Last time I spoke to you, Madame found out, and I’m still paying for it. Why do you think I’m stuck here?”
“I can’t believe Weiss has you working clubs again,” said Sterling.
“Better than the private clients she’s been hiring me to. I tried to skip one date, knowing the guy was blacklisted by other escort services, and she sent her muscle to my apartment to drive me there.”
“We can help you,” said Fernando.
“No, you can’t. I can’t be seen talking to you. Blend in or leave.”
