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I shake my head.
“I’m actually meeting someone. Let me just go check and see if she’s here.”
“Certainly,” the woman nods. “Please,” she gestures with one graceful hand.
I nod and enter the restaurant, which is dimly lit with bistro-style tables scattered about. It’s elegant but not over the top, and I generally occupy a table facing a far window because it’s got a gorgeous view of the gardens below. It’s not quite Paris, but it’ll do.
But there’s no trace of the beautiful Bridget, and as a result, I take a seat at my usual table. A waiter immediately comes scurrying over.
“Sir, what can I get you to drink?”
“A bottle of the house Cab, thanks.”
“Yes sir, coming right up,” he says with a bow. “Shall I bring an extra glass?”
I nod.
“Definitely. My guest will be here in just a moment.”
With that, the server departs, quiet and efficient. But then, there’s a small ripple in the air, and I sense rather than feel her at my elbow. Sure enough, when I look up, it’s the gorgeous Bridget at my side. I stand immediately, towering over her petite form.
“Hi sweetheart,” I growl, bending to press a kiss to her cheek. “Thanks for coming.”
Bridget smiles sweetly and nods.
“Of course, Todd. Thank you for inviting me.”
Then, she sits and I take in the beautiful woman, my body hardening immediately. Her golden hair is arranged prettily over those shoulders, but it gets even better. Instead of a cocktail dress, Bridget’s wearing something that more resembles a negligee. It’s silky and beige, with thin straps and a daringly low-cut décolletage. In fact, the bodice is made completely of lace, and if I stare, her big breasts are visible through the ivory fabric.
But that’s the amazing part of Sanctum. Here, on club premises, the women are free to dress in scandalous outfits, so it’s common to see our girls nude or at least nearly nude. Bridget’s outfit is perfect for our dinner together, and I wrest my eyes away from her nipples to look into that angelic face.
“So honey,” I growl. “I suppose we should start with names. You know I’m Todd, and you’re Bridget.”
She giggles.
“Yes, I’m Bridget Bushnell,” she says with a giggle. “Nice to meet you officially.”
I nod, entranced by the musicality of her voice.
“Todd Sales. As you’ve probably guessed, I had a great time with you at the Summer Bacchanal and wanted to see you again.”
She blushes prettily.
“I had a great time too, and I’m glad you requested me.”
At that moment, the waiter returns with our wine and pours two glasses.
“I hope you like red,” I say while raising my glass. We clink for a moment, and then Bridget sips her drink delicately, her throat pulsing.
“Oh yes,” she murmurs. “This is perfect, thank you. Full-bodied and not too sweet, with a hint of floral notes. The cellars here always have the best vino.”
I nod. With that, we talk a bit about food while idly perusing the menu, and then put in two orders for duck confit. When we’re alone again, she turns to me with a gentle but curious look, her delicate features illuminated by the candlelight.
“So, I have to ask Mr. Sales: how did you find me? All you knew was that my name is Bridget.”
I grin.
“Yes, but that’s all I needed to know, honey. Well that, and your physical description. When I mentioned you to Melissa, she knew right away who I was talking about.”
Bridget nods slowly, sipping at her wine.
“Ah. That makes sense. I should have guessed because there aren’t any other girls named Bridget working here at the moment.”
I nod.
“It’s all part of Melissa’s job, and I’m not surprised actually. They can sniff these things out, no problem. But tell me honey. Are you new to Sanctum?”
She shakes her head, giggling. “Oh no. I’ve been coming to events for a few years now. Why, did I give the impression I was new?”
I think for a moment.
“Not exactly. It’s just that you’re very young, so I’d assumed that you must be new.”
She lets out a peal of laughter, the sound music to my ears.
“Well, I’m actually twenty-three Mr. Sales, so I’m not that young. I’ve been coming to Sanctum events since I was nineteen, so that’s four years already.”
I cock my dark head at her, blue eyes curious.
“Really? Being an attractive, single woman in New York City isn’t exciting enough for you? There aren’t billions of guys knocking on your door? Or breaking down your door for that matter?”
Bridget laughs again, a hint of blush on her cheeks. “No unfortunately, no crazy suitors, although maybe that’s a good thing. And yes, there are plenty of guys in New York City, but none of them have what I’m looking for. They think they have what I want, but trust me, they don’t.”
My black eyebrows go up.
