Benny
A VERY STRANGE CLUB.
Rikky
Nightshade Cellars.
I looked up from the text to the sign. The storefront was all black and windowless, and Rikky had given me a specific set of instructions on how to access this place. Frankly, they seemed a little ridiculous, even if this was some super-secret sex club for the filthy rich and famous. But I was already here. I might as well go inside.
Rikky
Find the bottle without a label.
The interior was dimly lit, warm amber spotlights hung over carefully spaced bottles like they were art pieces, with price tags high enough to explain why there weren’t any other customers. The register was unattended.
Feeling like I’d entered a museum rather than a wine store, I looked through the displays, searching for the bottle withouta label. The silence was heavy, amplifying every footstep, every rustle of clothing.
I was about to text Rikky that I couldn’t find it when I spotted it—below one of the other displays, in the shadows, a bottle with a matte black label.
Rikky’s next instructions were to take it to the register and say the phrase he’d given me. I jolted when I turned around to find an attendant now stood at the counter, watching me closely. I hadn’t heard him come in.
“Oh. Scared me.” I laughed nervously. “You move quietly.”
He didn’t smile.Alrighty then.
I cleared my throat and took the bottle over to him, placing it on the counter. “I uhh…” Such a stupid phrase. “I hear this one is Harborview’s best kept secret.”
“One moment,” he finally said, turning away from me to type something on his computer. Then he turned back to me and stared.
His gaze was so intense I had to look away, my eyes seeking anything else to focus on instead as I waited for him to say something else. There was a security camera above him, its red light blinking steadily.
“It’s really quiet in here.” I spoke again after long seconds that felt like minutes. I was never good with silence or awkward pauses in social interactions. He said nothing, though, just kept staring.
Was I supposed to do something else? I’d read Rikky’s messages a few times, but now I was blanking under that incessant scrutiny.
I was almost sweating when he finally looked away, something on his screen snapping his attention up. “Your total is eight thousand two hundred and eleven.”
Rikky
The total will be the door code. Go down the stairs at the back. Don’t pay for the wine, if that isn’t obvious.
This guy was certainly looking at me like he expected me to pay, and I almost would just to get him to stop staring at me like that.
“Thank you,” I said instead, taking a step back.
“Thank you,” he imitated in what I could only assume was an attempt to mock me, his voice dropping and speech altered to copy my accent.
Fucking weirdo.
Feeling very much like I shouldn’t be turning my back to this guy, I did just that, making my way to the back of the store, which was even darker than the main room. As soon as I descended the stairs, I let out a sigh of relief.
I pulled my phone out, glanced over the rest of the directions once more, and shot off a text before putting it back in my pocket.
If you never hear from me again, it was the cashier.
A joke, but something about that guy set me on edge, sojust in case.
The storeroom was what I’d expect the storeroom of a wine cellar to look like. Crates, barrels, boxes. Nothing out of place. No other door. There were two fridges, though, with shining silver doors, one of which had a keypad next to it.
