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Peter shrugged. “She’s got great legs and a soothing voice. People listen to her. Let’s just say I won’t be watching UNN again anytime soon. But it’s people like her we have to keep our members safe from. I don’t mind handling security for as long as I’m here.”

Gage lifted an eyebrow. “You thinking of going back to spy work?”

Peter shook his head. “Hell no. Those days are over for me. But I am hoping they give me my own field office with the Secret Service. Baltimore is coming open soon and I’ve put in for the job.”

Gage waved a hand. “Oh, that’s nothing. You can be here in an hour when the traffic is good.”

Peter snorted. “When have you known the traffic to be good?”

“So take the train.”

“Whatever. The point is, I’m here to help you get started, but eventually, you’ll need a new security man. What about Sam Carter?”

Gage shook his head. “He’s still black ops and technically doesn’t exist.”

Peter stood. “Show me the rest of the place and tell me about the membership requirements.”

Gage picked up a sleek tablet and followed him into the hall, and stepped in front of him. “Main play space is this way and there’s a small bar in the corner.”

Peter groaned. “Really, you have to have a bar?”

“Don’t give me any grief. I’m bringing in two best bartenders in the lifestyle. They won’t over-serve anyone and we won’t encourage drinking before play.”

Peter cursed under his breath, but let Gage finish the tour.

“Let’s close down all but the one back door and install emergency exit doors instead. Right now I see way too many places for people to sneak in.”

Gage tapped the screen on his tablet and pulled out a stylus to make notes. The two men spent the next hour walking through the space with Peter pointing out changes he wanted to make and Gage making notes. Then they made their way to the bar where Gage pulled out top shelf whiskey and two glasses.

“How soon before you open.” Peter took the glass Gage offered and sipped it.

“I’m hoping to be ready three weeks from tomorrow. I’ve got Darci, Edith, and Carrie screening applications and then we’ll send out invites for the grand opening party. I was hoping maybe you would demo some rope since you’re so good at it.”

Peter made a face. He enjoyed playing with subs at parties, but not when he was the center of attention. “I’ll think about it. I met Darci on my way in and I’ve gotten to know Edith at your house. Don’t think I know Carrie.”

Gage laughed. “You would know if you knew Carrie.”

He held up the tablet. “This list is all stuff I can arrange within the week, so let’s plan another walk-through in ten days.”

At home, Peter turned on the news while he got ready for bed and the woman with the purple hair was still on his mind. Then the woman he hated came on the screen. He cursed and shut the TV off. It seemed like he couldn’t escape the pain she’d caused.

1

“JESUS Carrie, did somebody send you a glitter bomb?”

Carrie Davenport glared at her boss and bent down to pull off the five-inch heels that had been killing her feet for the last several hours.

“I told you Tom; I went to the Doll House last night.”

“I thought you were doing research for a story, not moonlighting as one of the strippers. Do I not pay you enough?” Tom Neiland may have been scowling, but Carrie knew he was teasing.

“Ha-fucking-ha, Tom. You should take your comedy show on the road. I have to fit in, or the girls won’t talk to me. I think I have enough for my piece though, so I won’t have to go back. Unless I want to, that is.” She winked at Tom just to watch him turn red.

The Doll House Cabaret was a high-end strip club in D.C., and for the past few weeks, Carrie had been visiting with women who worked there and at other clubs in the area. It was supposed to be for a human interest piece Tom had asked her to write for the network’s blog. But with the help of Darci Sanders, she hoped to turn it into a piece about the ways a pending anti-trafficking bill was jeopardizing their livelihood. It wasn’t quite as exciting as working overseas, but after her last trip had taken a turn for the worst, she had a feeling she was going to be stuck stateside for a while, so she was doing her best to keep things interesting.

“Well, get out of reception before somebody sees you. Why didn’t you go home first?” Tom waved her through the lobby and into the safety of the cubicle farm where dozens of reporters were already working.

“Sorry, I have this editor who likes me to show up at six-thirty in the morning for work.”