She tapped on the tablet some more—way more than necessary to enter my birthdate, making me guess she was auto signing me up for a mailing list. Annoying, but not her fault if it was policy. When she was done, she handed my license back and turned the screen toward me. It wasn’t a menu or a list of available dining times or anything else I would expect from a restaurant.
It was a form.
“What’s this?” I asked.
“A guest pass,” she said before smoothly adding, “and a very standard NDA.”
NDA?
Why does a restaurant need an NDA?
“Why—” I started.
Before I could ask my question—and a dozen follow-ups—Tripp gripped my chin and tipped it so I was looking at him. “It’ll be easier to show you.”
“But—”
“Sign the forms, Greer.”
At the authoritative tone in his voice, I did what he said.
Afterreading them, of course.
The first set was just the rest of my basic information that hadn’t been available on my license. The second set of forms were the mysterious NDA. Like she’d said, it was a standard one, not far from what I’d signed after accepting the job with Tripp.
But it still didn’t make sense.
Not until the woman opened the door as she said, “Enjoy your night at Gilded.”
So…
Nota restaurant.
Though, from the looks of it, people might be eating something…
My gaze darted around, desperate to take it all in even if I didn’t understand what I was seeing.
There was leather.
Lace.
Spandex or vinyl or some shiny pleather that looked unbreathable.
Gold handcuffs, crops, and other implements hung from the wall in decorative patterns. I didn’t know what they were called, but I could guess what they were for.
Despite all that, no one was actually having sex. Or even borderline sex. There were no pleasured moans floating over the low thrum of conversation and sensual music. No body parts exposed.
That last one was a close call because some of the outfits were little more than scraps and strings, but still. They did the job.
That didn’t mean the intent wasn’t there. The charged tension hung in the warm air until it felt like I would choke on it.
Honestly, if not for the change in apparel and the addition of erotic decor, Gilded looked like a continuation of Golden. The same matte black and gold. The same high tops and lush seating. It almost seemed like a VIP room since there were more than a few recognizable faces.
But itdidhave all that, which left me with a lot of questions.
One more important than the rest.
Why was Tripp there with Maddie?
