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We get onto the machines and select a program.

“I don’t understand what you could see in this guy that would make you choose him over Kenton,” says Hannah.

I raise my brows. “Is my dad paying you to say that?”

“No! But, honestly, what’s wrong with Kenton? I mean, I’d date him in a heartbeat.”

I perk up. “You should!”

“He’s interested inyou.”

“He’s not really. Our dads think we’d make a good match, that’s all.”

“Kenton is drop dead gorgeous, rich, funny, and he’s probably good in bed.”

“You have no idea whether he’s good in bed or not.”

“But he’s got that swagger, you know? He’s all confident like.”

I want to tell her I’ve been with enough guys to know that a guy’s “swagger” usually correlates withlessability rather than more, but Hannah doesn’t know about my secret passion for BDSM and all the sex partners I’ve had at Club de Sade.

“He’s a player,” I say instead.

“That makes him hotter! I mean, it shows you that all these women want him.”

“I just don’t feel it with Kenton. We don’t have anything in common.”

“So what do you have in common with this guy Jack?”

To be honest, the only shared interest I know we have is BDSM.

“Chemistry,” I reply.

“So you seeing him again tonight? Because some of us were thinking to go clubbing.”

I think for a moment. Maybe I shouldn’t be so fixed on Jack. He’s clearly not as interested in me as I am in him. But what if he does change his mind? I already texted him I’d be at Club de Sade tonight. I’d kick myself if he showed up and I wasn’t there. But maybe he senses my interest in him and is panicked by it. It’s hard for me to imagine Jack panicked by anything, but a lot of men seem to fear a relationship more than they fear death or public speaking.

However, I was explicit, or I thought I was, that I wasn’t looking for a relationship. I just want the sex. He’s got to be okay with that.

“So, clubbing tonight with us?” Hannah prompts.

I answer, “I’ll think about it.”

*****

It’s past eight at night, and I still haven’t received a text from Jack about the cat. Maybe he didn’t see my text. I could try him again, but I don’t want to pester him. I’ll just go to Club de Sade and hope that he shows up. If he doesn’t, I’m going to head to Tahoe and pound my sexual frustrations out on the slopes.

I find my bodyguard, Chase, hanging out in the pool room of our house in Pacific Heights. “Be ready in an hour. Going to the club tonight.”

“Your father asked me where you went last night,” Chase tells me.

“You told him I was hanging out with my friend Aleisha, right?”

“Yeah, yeah, but he started asking me what I know about her.”

“What’d you say?”

“I said I didn’t know much about her. What are you going to tell your dad about tonight?”

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