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He wasn’t convinced. Yet. “You know that’s not how we operate here. We have the most qualified staff member cover each story.”
I leaned toward him, balls out. “This is gold. And it’s my gold. You have to let me do it. This is the chance of a lifetime.”
Shit, did I just say that?
He stared at me, apparently as surprised as I was by my newfound brazenness. “Tell me about your approach.”
“I’m ninety-nine percent sure I have an in. I want to go undercover as a guest of the club and see what it’s all about.”
“Are you sure? You want to go to a sex club?” he asked with incredulity.
Jesus, did he think I was a fucking virgin?
A burning heat crept across my face, like it always did when I was stressed. But this was more from excitement than embarrassment. The words sex club made my heart pound. I squeezed my knees together to head off a growing throb. But it only intensified.
“Yeah, Ed. I do want to go. So that I can do my story.”
He leaned back and stared at the ceiling. With a deep inhale, he said, “Shit, Saffi. What if something happens to you?”
“It’s a sex club, not a murder club. What’s the worst that could happen?”
This time, it was Ed’s turn to blush.
“I…I mean. Whatever. You know what I mean.” He began to nod, very slowly. “I don’t know. Maybe we could give it a try. You think you can get in?”
Score.
“Almost positive I can get in. Besides, if not, there’s no story.”
He chuckled. “I have a hard time imagining you writing about sex.”
Things you hope your boss never says to you.
“But it’s a good idea. It could be a very, very interesting story,” he added.
A knock rattled the door behind me and Ed glanced at the wall clock. “Let’s keep this confidential for a few days. I want to make sure you can kick it off.” He motioned behind me for his next meeting to come in.
“Hey, Saff,” Tom said. Mr. Dine ’n Dash.
“Hey, Tom.” I brushed by him and turned to Ed at the last minute. “Thanks, Ed. I really appreciate it.”
“Yup,” he said, and turned his attention to Tom.
I ran back to my desk needing the privacy of my cube to jump up and down and scream silently with happiness. What luck. First, I found the business card at the bus stop after sucking face with Tom, who turned out to be not as cool as I’d thought. Then, I got Ed’s approval to at least start the story. Going in, I’d figured my chances were only about fifty-fifty. I was finally going to get the respect I deserved. Yes. Not to mention entrance to a sex club.
Hot and bothered by my first victory, I scurried to the ladies room at the far end of the building, the one no one ever used but me. Locked in a stall, I inched my skirt up and panties down, closing my eyes, trying to picture what a sex club might be like. And, of course, what shoes I might wear.
I actually had no freaking idea, but I made a mental note to try Google. There was always something to be found online. But until I did, not knowing made it all the more fun to imagine. Leaning on the wall, I ran my fingers up and down my soaking slit, spreading the wetness up my lips to my hard clit. With a few strokes, I began to shudder, and went to town until I exploded in a silent orgasm, catching myself on the stall door before my knees buckled and I wiped out on the floor. Not glamorous but it did the job.
Until recently, I always pictured Tom when I played with myself, but I was done with that douchebag. Now, it was time for someone new.
Chapter 5
Varden
I arrived at the tailor’s shop, a place easily underestimated. The entrance was nothing more than an old storefront door that said pull. No sign, no indication that two floors up existed the most talented and sought-after custom suit maker in San Francisco.
The city was ground zero for “business casual,” which meant I didn’t need many suits. But I wanted to make sure that my version of business casual was more considered than the khaki Dockers and white, button-down Oxford shirts everyone else wore. I’d come a long way from my childhood of hand-me-downs and the occasional splurge at Sears.
