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Chapter 4
Saffi
Ientered my boss’s office—the editor in charge of city news—and closed the door. I was about to lay a bomb on him, which had the potential to change my life. Well, that was the idea, anyway.
He waved me to the chair opposite his desk, continuing to tap on his keyboard.
“Done in a sec, Saffi,” he said.
I cooled my heels patiently, looking around at the framed articles and awards covering the walls. “Ed, is this a good time? Because I can come back.”
“What? No, it’s great.” He hit send on his computer, took off his glasses, and turned to me. “You have my full attention now. Sorry about that. My mother’s going into a home, and I had to get some insurance information to the administrator there.”
Now I felt like a shithead. “Oh, gosh. I didn’t know that. I’m sorry.”
He waved away her concerns. “It’s for the best. We should have done it ages ago.”
He folded his hands on his desk and looked at me expectantly.
I took a deep breath. “Okay then. I wanted to pitch you a story idea. It’s completely different from anything I’ve done here. In fact, it’s pretty different from anything the City Desk has done.”
Ed sat back in his chair. “Really? You’ve got me intrigued.”
“It’s a bit of a sensitive topic, but I’m going to speak frankly if you don’t mind.”
A dribble of sweat ran down the back of my neck.
“You can always be straight with me, Saffi. We’re a news organization. We’ve seen it all.”
Well, he might not have seen this one…
“Ed, have you ever heard of Club Silk?”
His brows knit. “Yeah, I have. That sex club, right? We looked into it a couple years back and couldn’t determine whether or not it really existed. Couldn’t get any leads, so we dropped it. Concluded it was an urban myth.”
Maybe I was gonna be the office hero, after all.
“It does exist Ed. And I want to do a story on it.”
His mouth opened. Then it closed.
“Are are you sure? We determined there was no such place. And even if there were, wouldn’t you want to give the story to a more senior member of the staff—”
Yeah. Um, fuck no.
I cut him off. “I can do it. I want to do it. I want to prove myself, show you I can do reporting beyond Little League and Garden Clubs.”
That didn’t sound too complain-y, did it?
He studied me, no doubt looking at me in a new light. One of a professional, confident, and talented woman.
“I really think this ought to be assigned to—”
No fucking way.
I smiled sweetly. “I got the lead. And I’m not passing it on. I’m just not.” I gripped my hands until they started to go numb.
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 the 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. I had him.
“Almost positive. Besides, if not, there’s no story.”
He chuckled. “I have a hard time imagining you writing about sex.”
