“Here we are,” Cypress said, pulling up a gravel driveway to a large, two-story, Southern gothic home with a deep front porch. There were plants climbing up the columns and lush azalea bushes hugging the front steps.
“Wow.” Tom whistled, leaning forward to get a better look.
There were several cars parked in front of them, and Tom could see at least a dozen people waiting up on the porch.
It was five minutes to nine o’clock.
Tom unbuckled his seatbelt and took a deep breath. “Wow. So… uh… what now?”
“Remember the rules,” Cypress said. “Phones stay in the car, and what you see here stays here. Got it?”
“Got it.”
“I already let the hostess know I was bringing a date and not to expect us to participate tonight.” Cypress took Tom’s hand, kissing it firmly. “We are gonna kick back, relax, and let you soak it all in, okay?”
“Okay,” Tom said, smiling as he leaned over to kiss Cypress’s lips. “Mmm, thank you. I’m nervous and kinda scared, but also weirdly excited?”
“Sounds about right.” Cypress smiled. “Let’s go.”
They got out of the car and hand in hand walked up to the porch to join the rest of the guests. A loose sort of line had formed, and they took their place at the end.
Tom was surprised that all the people waiting looked sonormal.
They were all different races and ages, though there were a few more women than men, and they were dressed conservatively. He didn’t see any sign of leather or lace, but he did notice almost everyone had some sort of big purse or duffel bag with them.
Cypress gave Tom’s hand a little tug and offered him a comforting smile. “Still okay?”
“Yeah,” Tom said. “Okay.”
He didn’t see anyone who looked familiar, though he doubted that he’d actually know anybody here.
Well, except for Fox, of course. He was there in a dark blue tracksuit, glancing back at them with a faintly smug expression. He waved before turning to the door as it finally opened.
A beautiful light-skinned black woman with long blonde hair and a tight black vinyl dress stepped out onto the porch, saying in a deep, sultry tone, “Good evening, everybody. Please come on in. The ladies’ changing area has been moved to the second-floor bathroom. Sorry for the last-minute switch, sink’s busted downstairs.”
Tom and Cypress followed the crowd inside, and Tom’s head whipped all around to check everything out. He wasn’t sure what he had been expecting, not exactly, but the house was clean, spacious, and there was no immediate sign of debauchery.
He did notice there were a lot of mirrors, but that was the only thing that seemed a bit odd.
There was a large burly black man wearing tiny jean shorts and a leather studded vest waiting just inside the foyer. He was stopping all the guests and going through their various bags.
Once he cleared them, the guests advanced into the home. Women headed up the stairs while men went to a room immediately off to the right of the front door. A few opted to go straight into the back of the house without stopping.
When it was Tom and Cypress’s turn, Cypress took the lead by saying, “No bags tonight, Jonah. Just us.”
“First time, right?” Jonah asked, reaching out to shake Tom’s hand. “I’m Jonah, nice to meet you.”
“Yeah, I’m Tom Hi—”
“Uh uh,” Jonah cut him off. “No last names. You don’t even have to tell me your real name if you don’t want to. All I gotta see is some ID.”
“Oh, r-right.” Tom nervously reached for his wallet.
“It’s okay,” Cypress soothed, wrapping his arm around Tom’s waist.
After Jonah deemed him legal, he ushered him and Cypress to the back of the house. “Go on. Lady Villalongo is already making drinks.”
“Thanks, Jonah,” Cypress said. “See you in there.” He kept his arm around Tom, leading him down a long hallway past the stairs. “See? That wasn’t so bad, huh?”
