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Chapter 14
Saffi
Ikilled some time gabbing with Nelle until it was a reasonable hour to make an appearance at Club Silk. I yawned to kick off my exit. “Gosh, I’m pooped.”
“Me, too. Let’s take off,” She agreed.
We headed for the door, but before reaching it, I stopped.
“You know what, Nelle? Before I hit the road I’m gonna visit the ladies’ room.” I gave her a quick peck on the cheek, and we went our separate ways.
In the restroom, I dug into my makeup bag and proceeded to remove my working girl face and replace it with…what? My sex club face? I carefully re-did my makeup with an eye to creating a sexy, dramatic look. The YouTube videos I’d watched on applying “evening makeup” were paying off. I didn’t look like a harlot, at least I didn’t think so, but I didn’t look like a nun, either.
I pulled a small can of hairspray out of my purse and shot it over the top of my hair. As it dried, I brushed and teased it into something I hoped was alluring. It was the best I could do.
Done primping, I headed out. The bartender did a double take at my quick makeover.
Whatever, dude.
On the drive across town to the old warehouse district, I couldn’t decide whether I was scared, nervous, or excited. Now that I’d been to the club once, I knew better what to expect, and in some ways that was more intimidating.
Regardless, I had a good feeling, despite a crappy day at work. Things could be worse. I could be heading to a baseball game for eight-year-olds. Instead, I was going to a freaking sex club. Wait until the rest of the paper found out how ballsy I was, and how well I could write a story.
At a costume store, I’d found one of those cool Venetian half-masks some of the others at the club wore. It was painted with a crackly effect intended to make it look old and was embellished with gold swirls, crystals, and glitter. At the center top, a fleur-de-lis ornament soared several inches above my head. It was super cool and made me exotic and mysterious.
I rang the bell, and just like last time, was admitted by Miss M.
“Why, B! Lovely to have you back. Oh, and look at your mask. So glamorous,” she said.
“Thank you. I’m excited about trying it out.”
I adjusted the mask until it was comfortable and I could see as well as could be expected. Clearly, I’d need to be careful on the stairs. And other places. I didn’t want to step on any body parts.
“I understand a sense of anonymity can be very freeing,” I said.
Okay, I pulled that one out of my ass.
“I could not agree more,” M said, stepping closer.
She bordered on creepy, no question about it.
“I was hoping that sometime this evening you might accompany me to my office for a little chat. We can get to know each other better.”
What? Why?
“That would be great, Miss M,” I said with a cool smile, hoping I was successfully hiding my unease.
I placed a hand on her arm, like we were total buds. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m in the mood to…explore.”
Oh yeah.
After that mini convo with Miss M, my confidence was wobbly. But I guessed I figured if I could handle her, the rest of the scene would be a piece of cake. So I strolled through the place like I owned it, carrying a confidence I was missing in my first visit. For one, I knew what to expect, and two, being incognito rocked. The ability to wear a mask—and a glamorous one at that—brought new meaning to my undercover investigation.
The first floor, in all its velvet glory, was getting a bit crowded for my tastes, so I wove through the bodies to get to the mezzanine.
The open stairs provided a perfect view of the clubgoers below, so I stopped to take it all in.
In one quiet corner, a woman in nothing more than high heels rode a man seated on a giant, plushy chair. He was completely dressed except for the trousers puddling around his ankles. His gaze was locked with hers in a combination of wonder and satisfaction. I slowed my ascent as the man’s expression morphed, his teeth gritted, lips bared, hollering, “Oh, fuck, yeah.”
I’d been holding my breath watching them, and when I finally took a deep inhale, I unclenched the fists that had pressed my nails into my palms. Could I be that woman, having great sex with a guy who adored me?
I finished my climb to the second floor on shaky legs, but not before I saw that others had also stopped to watch the flushed and sweaty pair.
Who could tire of watching a hot couple get it on?
The second floor mezzanine wasn’t crowded, at least not yet, and the bartender looked bored out of his mind. His face brightened when I approached him. “What will you have, my lovely lady?”
“Hi. I’ll have…some bubbly, if you don’t mind.”
“Coming right up,” he said, reaching into the cooler.
As he went through the motions of serving me, I decided to try my luck at getting some info out of him.
He handed me a champagne flute.
“Thank you.” I tried to be flirty and demure. “What’s your name?”
“All the help are called O,” he said with a smile. “And you are?”
“I’m B.”
He extended his hand. “Hello, B. Welcome. You’re new, aren’t you?”
“I am. How long have you been working here?”
“Couple years.”
I nodded as if that were super interesting.
“Cool,” I said, nodding. Maybe I could get him to tell me more. “This place is great. How long has it been around?”
“Not sure.” He shrugged.
Not sure, my ass.
He grabbed his bar rag and began wiping at some invisible dirt, gradually moving farther away from me, toward the other end of the bar.
So much for that.
