My friend slips an arm in mine as we walk out of the dorm. “Half the girls here haven’t. It may have escaped your attention, but most of our classmates live off trust funds.”
I used to be one of those, unfortunately. “Preaching to the choir.”
“Ingrid, you’ll do fine. Please don’t take this the wrong way.” She glances at me sideways. “But you could use a little fun in your life. You spend too much time kissing everyone else’s ass. Especially that jerk you used to hang out with.”
“He’s left. Won’t be back,” I remind her.
“Now, the other gentleman who’s been hanging around…”
“Is a friend of a friend. There is nothing and will never be anything between us.” We’ve had this conversation several times.
“Girl, you need to jump on that man pronto.” Lifting her hand in defense when I begin my objection, she continues. “I know what you’re going to say, but you’re wrong. That man has it bad. And from what I’ve seen, he’s nothing like what you sayhe’s like. Mysterious? Yes. But he’s not some player, or if he was, he no longer is.”
“Once a player, always a player.” I spit out as we step onto the platform where we’ll catch our train.
“There was a time I’d agree. Maybe he’s less interested in the women themselves and more interested in maintaining the illusion of being a ladies’ man. Just because someone sleeps with more than one person does not make them a bad person. It only means they’re enjoying life until the right person comes along. Are you saying you’ve only had sex with guys you were serious about?” She nudges me, knowing I’ve slept with a few because I wanted to and for no other reason.
Raven goes quiet once we get on the train. Her attention on her phone, her fingers texting wildly. I watch the world pass us by through the window. I try not to let a certain man enter my thoughts. It’s hard when he’s not letting you forget about him.
He stuck around for a few weeks after he ran Wilson off. Eventually, he had to leave to handle business, but that didn’t mean he left me completely alone. Daily calls and texts arrive, more than I get from my best friends. His concern is refreshing, but at the same time, confusing. I don’t know what to think.
I know he’ll eventually learn about the recent development in my father’s financial issues. When he does, he’ll do what men like him do and throw money at me like it’s no big deal.
He’d be wrong. To me, this is huge. Life changing.
Accepting his money will make me indebted to him. He’ll hold it over my head, and this strange friendship we’ve been building will disintegrate. The man I’ve started to sort of like, with his charming smile and easy laugh, will soon reveal a darker side I know I’ll hate. It’s better for me to find my own way instead of relying on others.
When we arrive in the city, we chat like girlfriends do. I’m a bit on edge. My distress is palpable, and Raven’s attempting to calm me down.
Before I realize it, we’re walking through a dark glass door with the name Kismet in gold scrolled across it. It’s nothing like I imagined it would be. The lobby area reminds me of a swanky hotel with a welcome desk and a few cushioned seats for its patrons to wait. There are a few doors leading to other rooms and a large dark window to the left—I assume it’s where the management can stand to observe the clientele.
“Take a seat. I’m off to get ready for this evening. Mr. Rossi will be with you soon.” Leaning in, she kisses my cheek. “Just be yourself, and everything will be okay, I promise.”
The woman at the front desk smiles up at me while she talks on the phone. It sounds like she’s taking a reservation. Odd. I mean, do members have to make reservations? They can’t just come and go as they please?
While I wait, I study the décor and blush when I notice the wallpaper isn’t fancy swirly lines like I first assumed. So, sexisa theme after all—proof proud and loud on the walls.
A deep voice interrupts my study of all the different sexual acts hidden amongst the fancy wallpaper. “Don’t worry, you’ll soon understand it’s just art and not at all a suggestion of what goes on here.”
My eyes land on a tall man dressed in a three-piece suit. “I’m sorry, what?” I know I’m about as red as I can get.
He extends his hand. “You must be Miss Lennox. I’m Mr. Rossi. Let’s talk, and I’ll show you around; I promise you won’t be disappointed. Come see it for yourself. I run a classy business. There are no sex dungeons or private rooms available for clients and staff to use.”
I take his offered hand, his skin rough against mine, but say nothing. He gestures for me to follow, quickly releasing his handwith a nod. As we walk through the lavish rooms, each with its own distinct character, I listen to him do his best to sell the place.
One room reminds me of a bar, with dark leather and low lights. Another is more like a fancy restaurant—lots of white. There are booths and round tables with candles. Each table only has four seats, so I’m guessing that means no large parties. The last one is a nightclub. There’s even a DJ area. High-tops line the dance floor and walls.
There’s no room with a stage or poles. No sex dungeons in the basement. No private rooms where I would imagine sexual acts take place. He opens every door, even the ones marked private. When he’s proven his point, he leads me to his office, and we get down to business.
“I believe you’ll fit in well here. Do well, even. The gentlemen who walk through those doors understand this is more than just a private club, it’s a sanctuary. They come here not just because of the beautiful women working here, but they crave intelligent conversation. Strange, I know, but true. Half the allure for them is learning who you are, getting to know?—”
I interrupt him. “Are they searching for trophy wives?”
He laughs. “Some, but most are here for business. Here, they can speak freely, without fear of intrusion. My employees are well compensated, and their silence is golden.”
“So, criminals and politicians come here to make shady deals.” I don’t see the point in beating around the bush.
“You’re a smart woman, Miss Lennox. We’re here to help you form bonds with those who can offer a helping hand when the moment calls for it. The men you’ll meet are more than willing to do just that. Not all of them are criminals. Most are men of means who are eager to invest in your future.”
