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“It’s Monday night,” complained Valentina. “Some of us have to work tomorrow.”
“You didn’t quit then; that’s something,” replied Alexis.
Valentina didn’t answer.
“Besides, you don’t have to work,” added Serena. “Your trust fund is a mile high.”
“I want to work,” said Valentina. “Just not for that douchebag.”
The other women tittered sympathetically.
“Anyway, what would I do all day if I weren’t employed?” asked Valentina.
“Swedish deep-tissue massages at nine, then manicure and pedicure at eleven, lunch at the country club at one….” Serena listed off her daily schedule. “Historical society committee meeting at three, cocktails at the Waldorf Astoria at five—”
“Alright! Alright!” Valentina cut her off, laughing.
Serena cast her a look of feigned indignation.
“Alexis, help me out here,” Valentina appealed to the other woman, who was a world-renowned pediatric trauma neurosurgeon. Alexis’s father was the Surgeon General of Illinois and her mother was a state senator, as well as a best-selling author. Like Valentina, Alexis had never been required to work a day in her life. She simply wanted to.
“I agree…” replied Alexis, “...with Serena. About the night out, at least. Let’s get out of here and have some fun! I’m off the next seventy-two hours and I’m ready to live it up.”
“Fine,” Valentina gave in. “Where are we going?”
“To The Mile High,” declared Serena. “It’s a new club right down the street.”
“One of your kinky whips-and-chains clubs for SNL?” sighed Valentina.
“BDSM,” Alexis laughingly corrected her. “Or S&M. Definitely not SNL.”
“Whatever,” sighed Valentina. “It’s a whips-and-chains place?”
“Yes, indeed,” said Serena.
“It’ll be fun,” Alexis exclaimed.
Ordinarily, Valentina would never consider going to such a place. The very concept of BDSM appalled her, and she could only imagine such a club being full of sticky floors and sweaty men. But it had been a strange day, and she was feeling a thousand different emotions all at once. The idea of giving up control appealed to her; only in terms of letting Serena decide their night out, of course. She shrugged. “Fine. But if some pervert tries anything with me, I’ll stab him in the eye with a stiletto.”
Serena giggled. “He’d probably like that. Let’s go!”
* * *
The Mile High was almost everything Valentina had feared it would be. It was like every stereotype she had ever held about bondage and domination had vomited all over the place: red leather booths, dim flickering lights, paddles and yokes, dog collars and boot-clad Mistresses abounded. She felt like she’d stepped into Mad Max’s Thunder Dome.
It was not exactly Valentina’s idea of a good time.
Plus, she felt out of place in the cardinal chiffon dress she was wearing. Her hair was still up in the stylish 1940s chignon, and she was still wearing her dainty Stuart Weitzman retro-rose heels. She felt like a chubby little girl among a horde of sexy Amazon warrior women.
Next to her, Serena loomed well over six feet tall. Her thigh-high stiletto boots added at least six inches to her already lofty height. Her bronzed skin and spicy cayenne hair contrasted with the skin-tight, Cat Woman-style, black-leather jumpsuit she wore. Her statuesque frame gave her the look of a B&D supermodel. Or a savage tigress, Valentina thought.
Even lily-white Alexis had managed to dig a leather mini-skirt and some dramatic S&M boots out of the trunk of her car.
“Fancy meeting you here,” a deep, familiar voice said behind her.
A second voice joined him. “Welcome to The Mile High,mademoiselle.”
They were here? Both of them? Valentina’s skin crawled.
