“Pap Pap.” Wren points at Dad.
“Yeah, Pap Pap’s team’s not winning,” I say, brushing my hand over Wren’s hair from where we sit on the floor, colouring books spread all around us.
“Oh no,” she says in her cute baby voice, then returns to her drawing of Dad and a grey, spiky circle with whiskers, which I’m guessing is my cat.
I tried to stay at work as long as I could, but it got to a point where I couldn’t concentrate. I went home to get ready, and I still had about two hours to spare before I went on my secret mission. Mum video called me with Wren, so I decided to fill the time here instead. Being around Wren will fix anything that ails you, like tonight’s self-inflicted nerves, because I signed up to a sex club, and I’m about to test out my membership for the first time.
This is one of those times my curiosity definitely got the better of me. I just couldn’t leave well enough alone. Find out your boss and best friend’s brother is a member of sex clubs, and what do I do? Not ignore it, that’s for sure. Use it as even more proof that I’m clearly out of whatever league Gage puts himself in? Certainly not. Join the sex club? Yep, that’s apparently the sideI picked. The place doesn’t open until nine p.m. Gage might not even be there. He might not even be a member anymore. I didn’t ask Tenley how long ago her brother saw Gage there.
As soon as we left brunch on Sunday, I did some internet searching. Not only is Nella Notte an exclusive sex club with a members fee, but it’s one that requires wristbands and masks. I purchased my one-month trial membership that night and visited a costume store during my lunch break yesterday. I managed to find a beautiful gold embellished mask that looks like butterfly wings.
I’m not really sure what I’m hoping to find, but the temptation to know him on another level was too great for me to question it with much thought.
I left the black cocktail dress I’ll change into by my front door so I can quickly change when I drop Hallie back home. The sweetheart neckline dips into my cleavage and is fitted to my figure all the way down to my knees. I’m hoping it’s different enough from my usual style that Gage won’t recognise me. I straightened my hair earlier, hoping that, paired with the mask, it will also be enough of a disguise.
“Here you go, my babies,” Mum says, putting a plate of cut-up roasted vegetables on the blanket in front of Wren. She hands me a bigger plate, with chicken added to the side, before she secures a bib around Wren’s neck.
I cross my legs, then swing around to face my niece, pumpkin already spilling down her chin as she smiles at me.
“Another drink, Joe?” Mum calls from the kitchen.
“Just an iced tea, please, darling.”
Mum comes back into the room, Dad’s dinner and drink in hand. She sets it down on the table beside his lounge chair, but as she starts to turn away, he grabs her wrist at the last minute, spinning her back to him.
“Thank you, my sunshine.”
I blush, hiding my face from my parents’ display, but not before I catch the smile on Dad’s face as he looks at my mum, and the way she melts into him as he pulls her down for a kiss.
I help Mum clean up after dinner and with Wren’s nighttime routine. Maddie works three days a week, starting super early on Wednesdays to make up the hours, so Wren stays with Mum and Dad every Tuesday night. Mum loves the one-on-one time she gets with her granddaughter, so vastly different from the way it was when my sisters and I were younger.
It’s just after eight-thirty when I leave their house. I quickly drop Hallie home, change into my dress, brush my teeth, and give myself one more check in the mirror. Refreshing my lipstick and perfume, I triple-check that my mask is in my bag, then go back to the underground parking of my apartment building.
My yellow Volkswagen Beetle sits in the back corner. She’s a few years old now, but thankfully, my dad’s a mechanic and keeps her running well for me. She’s too cute to give up yet.
It takes twenty minutes to make it to the address I had memorised. I pull my car into the on-street parking before I pick up my phone to double-check I’ve made it to the right place.
The brick building is painted all black, and heavy curtains fill the double-height windows on either side of a black door. The number two hundred and seventeen is mounted on the building in gold metal, which I know is the right number, so I roll further along the road until I come to a driveway with a sign pointing down and gold lettering that saysparkingwith a star logo above it.
There are perhaps forty cars parked back here, making me both nervous and hopeful that I’ll be able to hide in the crowd. From what I read on the Nella Notte website, there’s a bar area for guests to mingle as well as private rooms if you meet someone you want to interact with more intimately.
Goose bumps rise on my arms, and my stomach feels heavy. Am I really doing this?Come on, Iz, you know yourself.Thecuriosity is worse than the potential embarrassment. I give myself to the count of three to question my sanity, then commit to the cause, pushing my door open and stepping out of the car. I pull my mask on as I make my way through the car park, noticing the back of the building looks far more extravagant than the front.
Nella Notteis lit up in neon above black double doors with giant gold pull handles. A damask pattern in white, grey, and gold is painted against the brick, and two men stand beside the doors.
They see me approach and move to open a door each. Soft, intimate lighting fills the foyer, and the scent of vanilla spills out. I throw my shoulders back and inhale as I step over the threshold. Black curtains line the back wall, and black and white photos of artfully posed naked bodies are framed on the others.
“Good evening. Welcome to Nella Notte.”
I turn as a raspy voice speaks beside me. A woman stands behind a desk, dark brown hair falling in big waves over one shoulder, and she wears a plain white mask.
“Hello,” I say awkwardly as I move to stand in front of her desk. She smiles easily, helping to ease my nerves. “Um, it’s my first time. I signed up for a trial membership online,” I say as I place my purse on the benchtop.
“We’re very happy to have you with us tonight. My name is Anja. May I have your membership number?”
I search through my phone for the confirmation email I received. You had to include your legal name when signing up, but you were able to nominate a code name to be used during your visit.
“And what is your purpose for tonight’s visit, Miss Henry?” the woman, Anja, asks as she sets a wooden box on the counter.
