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Chapter 31
Saffi
Nelle was back from London, and I was desperate to talk to her. After a miserable day working on my Club Silk story, knowing full well I didn’t have all the details I needed and that I’d probably never get them, I needed a shoulder to cry on. I arrived early at the bar where we always met and dove into my first beer.
“Heyyyyyy!” Nelle exclaimed, running into the bar with open arms and throwing them around me.
“I am so glad you’re back,” I said.
“Well, I’m not glad to be home. I freaking loved London and cannot wait to return. We have to go there, Saffi. It’s the most amazing city.”
She frantically waved over the bartender. “And the guys’ accents are so hot. Oh my god. I am so marrying an Englishman.”
I was chomping at the bit to discuss all that was on my mind, but just listened. If I waited long enough, she’d run out of gas.
And she did, chattering on for five more minutes before slowing.
“So, Saff. What’s up with you and the big story?” She leaned close to whisper. “And the sex club.”
“Glad you asked,” I said with patience. “I’ve hit some roadblocks. I think the club owner might be on to me.”
Nelle’s hand flew to her chest. “No way. Jesus. What will they do? I mean, could this be dangerous?”
“No,” I said, wishing I believed my lie.
“The problem,” I continued, “is that I’m having trouble finishing the story. Everyone there is tight-lipped and I haven’t been able to get even the most basic info. I can probably finish the story, but it won’t be that good.”
“Aw c’mon. There’s got to be a way. Won’t anyone there talk?” she asked.
“You would think. But it’s like they’ve been freaking programmed. They’re the Stepford Wives of sex clubs.”
“What about the guy you’ve been playing with? What’s up with him?”
“He won’t tell me anything, either. But I am kind of into him. It’s the strangest thing. I don’t even know what his face looks like.”
Nelle frowned. “Yeah…that’s kind of creepy.”
I shook my head. “Oddly… I don’t really care what he looks like. I’m so drawn to him, and I think he might feel the same way about me. It would be nice if he were handsome, but it really doesn’t matter.”
She held her hands up in surrender. “All right…whatever.” She pulled out her credit card and waved for the bill.
“I gotta run. This was my treat,” she said.
“Where you going?” I asked.
“Got a conference call.”
“What? So late?”
“Yeah. It’s morning in Hong Kong, so we do our calls with them in the evening.”
She was doing business with the Chinese, and all I ever did was go for takeout.
She air-kissed me and was gone.
I was taking the last swig of my beer when my phone vibrated with a message from G.
Hmmm. I swiped it phone open.
r u busy? meet me at four seasons bar for a drink?
Um, what?
What was that all about? He couldn’t very well wear his mask at the Four Seasons. This was big. Something was up.
ok. what time?
in 15?
u wearing mask?
LOL. nope
how will I know u?
I’ll know u
c u then
Holy shit, I was finally going to see his face. Would he have dimples? No, he didn’t seem the dimple type. Would his lips be thin or full? Probably thin. Would his nose be straight or crooked? Best guess, crooked, but only slightly, from a fight as a kid.
I ran to the bathroom to smear on some glossy red lipstick and fluff my hair. I hustled over to The Four Seasons.
The cavernous hotel bar, dark and masculine with wood paneling, was quiet. Other patrons were scattered about, but it had been designed so that nothing more than whispers and the occasional laugh drifted through the air.
Settling into my second bar of the evening, I ordered a fancy cocktail and began texting Nelle about this latest development.
There was a tap on my shoulder, and I spun to my left.
“Saffi.”
Oh.
It was my dad’s client...the one who’d asked about me. Varden. What was he doing here?
“Hi. How are you?” I kept looking around the bar for G. He was five minutes late.
“Good. You?” he asked.
