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“I’d hate to think I’m being used just because of my sexu—”
“No, no, that would be very unethical. Let me clarify,” Terry said with a dismissive wave of his hand as Ari leaned back in her seat, crossed her arms across her chest, and mirrored his misogynism. “We’ve exhausted traditional methods of trying to gain access to the club, such as pursuing memberships and having our reporters form connections with known members. None of these approaches have allowed us to infiltrate this elusive secret society.”
“Okay, so how do I fit into all of this?”
Terry tapped the stack of her articles still resting on the table. “Tell me, Ms. Delgado, are you a transgender male?”
Ari shook her head. “No.”
Terry nodded, showing his agreement and emphasis on his point. “And that’s what I am talking about. That’s where your expertise comes in. Just as you went undercover on the city streets to shed light on an important story, that is also the way for us to infiltrate this club.”
Ari’s patience wore thin. The time for pleasantries and beating around the bush was over. “Again, what do you want me to do?” she asked in a more direct and assertive tone.
His voice quivered as he made his request, “I’d like you to apply for a job at the club.”
Ari’s jaw dropped in disbelief, struggling to comprehend what she had just heard. “A job? You mean ...”
Terry took another nervous sip, more like a gulp of his coffee. “Well, it’s difficult to decipher what positions they have available. They are not the type of business that is open about job details, if you know what I mean.”
Stunned and surprised, Ari shifted in her seat, uncomfortable with what Terry had asked her to do. Being undercover on the streets was one thing; getting a job at a lesbian sex club was another altogether. Torn between disbelief and intrigue, Ari couldn’t help but find humor in his request. “This has to be some kind of joke, right? Am I being pranked?” After a few awkward moments passed, Ari noticed Terry wasn’t relenting. “Wait, you are serious?”
He straightened his posture, fixing his gaze on Ari. “Very. You’re young, beautiful, and, well ...”
“A lesbian,” Ari said as she snorted in realization.
It made sense. According to the rumors, Adytum was an exclusive lifestyle club. A place where influential women engaged in nights of wild sex with other women. There were no repercussions come sunrise. Whatever happened in Adytum stayed within its walls.
“I’m going to need some time to think about this.”
Her mind raced as she considered the potential risks and rewards of this assignment. For a job as big as this wasn’t something she could decide over morning coffee. Before making any decisions, she needed time to gather more information.
Terry stood up. “Sure, sure. For this assignment, we need someone skilled and talented but also relatively unknown. That’s why we’ve chosen a freelance journalist like yourself. The word is that the next round of auditions is just a few days away, and it’s crucial for us to have someone inside the club as soon as possible. CityBeats believes this is the next big story, and I believe you’re the perfect fit based on the impressive work I’ve seen from you to date. I’d appreciate an answer from you today because time is of the essence. I don’t want us to miss this opportunity. I’m going to grab another cup of coffee and give you time to think. Can I get you anything? My treat.”
“No, I’m good.”
Terry strolled away, leaving Ari to contemplate an immediate decision. A strip club was one thing. A sex club involved more than just taking off clothes for money. Ari had many questions for Terry, but he focused on getting an answer before she could ask them.
The idea of an elite sex club having a website was absurd, but she still couldn’t resist and searched for it on her phone. A few attempts later, she discovered a page with a logo that reminded Ari of a crown of thorns in the women’s gender symbol. The logo sparked Ari’s curiosity, prompting her to click and discover a minimalist website with an elaborate chandelier hanging from a crimson ceiling. The page displayed the name and a simple description that read: A Private Members Only Club.
Ari’s heart quickened its pace as she ventured further, encountering an image that made her pulse race. Depicted was a dungeon with dim lighting and walls made of dark stone. In the room, Ari’s eyes fell upon an array of unfamiliar furniture, including a sizable, wooden, X-shaped cross, each corner equipped with leather shackles. She was no stranger to erotic stories and had read about sex dungeons, but she knew those were only in the pages of a book, separate from reality. Her vivid imagination jumped from one scenario to the next as she struggled to see herself inside such a place. It dawned on Ari that the only way she could capture and write about what transpired in the club was to experience it firsthand, in some capacity.
By the time Terry returned, she had reached her decision. It was time for her to iron out the specifics. “When is the piece due?”
“You’ll have a month and a half to complete it. I’ll need some work submitted in a couple of weeks to track the progress. And don’t worry, CityBeats will cover all expenses.”
Ari’s inquisitiveness grew. “Can you tell me how much the pay will be?”
“A thousand up front and another four when we publish the story.” Then added, “Oh, and Ari ... if you excel at this, there is an opening for a full-time columnist.”
Ari pondered her financial situation and the prospect that lay before her. It seemed like the perfect solution: an opportunity that would not only earn her five thousand dollars but also provide income through her shifts at the club. It was only two months of work doing the job of a lifetime. And besides, working for CityBeats symbolized ultimate success. She couldn’t afford to pass up this chance. “I’ll do it.”
Chapter 2
“Bon maten, mon capitaine! ” Dylan Tessay jested with a wink to her boss as she walked into Adytum, the city’s elusive club known for catering to influential women who wanted to indulge in insidious activities with beautiful women of almost every flavor one could desire. It was a smorgasbord of debauchery every night of the week.
“Alé pèdi tibonèt, mon petit!” Maxi said as she forced a faint smile to cross her thin but defined jaw, not in the mood to hear anything from anyone. Late afternoon felt like morning for those who spent most of their waking hours while the city slept. That was most of the staff at Adytum. It took at least until dinnertime for everyone’s pleasantries to be welcomed with positivity.
“Ouch, Maxi. Get lost? Seriously?” Grasping her chest as if her boss had stabbed it with a double-edged knife, she didn’t actually take the remarks to heart. One, because it was early, and two, because they had become friends over the last five years since Dylan began working for Maxi Delacroix. During this time, she had picked up a decent amount of French from her Creole boss. “And I’m not your little one anymore.”
