Page 36 of The Mountain Man's Virgin
He opened the next blue door and I followed him into a room the size of an Olympic pool, with soaring three-story ceilings. A huge crystal chandelier hung high over our heads, cigar smoke swirling in its crystalline rainbows. All eyes in the room turned to face us. Lenny put his hand on my back and guided me into the room like a fifties housewife, introducing me to various men. I recognized about half the guys in the room. When I saw George Antsley, an executive from one of the big publishing houses, I smiled to myself. If a slimy men’s club had a poster boy, it would be him. Some of the others surprised me though, like Martin, the CFO of Children’s Weekend, a non-profit that provided underprivileged children with sports equipment. Martin was a family man, his perfect wife and children always smiling in their ribbon cutting ceremonies.
I wondered when the funny hats with horns would come out. When they’d all start laughing and regaling me with stories of hunting game in Africa, or hunting virgins in the city…
Lenny left me to go and mingle. A waiter came around with a silver platter of crystal glasses filled with single malt scotch. I might as well make this as pleasurable as possible, I thought to myself as I took one of the heavy glasses.
“Michael Brady, I was wondering when you were going to join us.”
I turned to face George, the fat publisher. He grinned at me, his tell-tale alcoholic cheeks veiny and flushed. “Frankly, I’m surprised you never asked me.”
“Bahaha,” Roger guffawed and slapped me on the back. “I don’t invite anyone. If you ask me, this club is getting a little too big for its britches,” he said pointing toward Martin. “Looks like they’ll let anyone in these days…” I heard him mutter the word ‘pussy,’ under his breath.
Roger was wavering on his feet and I knew that he was drunk. I decided to play into his obvious distaste for Martin. “I was surprised to see him in here too.” I leaned in close like I was confiding in him. “Does he ever win the competitions?”
Roger stepped back and looked at me warily. “There are no competitions here, sir. I think you have us confused with some other organization.”
I was losing him. I grasped him by his thick forearm and pulled him in close. “If this is just a bunch of men playing Illuminati, I’m not interested. I am willing to invest in the right organization. Looks like this isn’t it. I want women who are willing to do anything. I want to be able to pick up the phone and get a virgin delivered to me, whenever I feel like it. I want to be able to run any new business out of town with the help of my social club.”
Roger was slow to turn back to me, but he did. I wasn’t sure if his delayed response was due to his intoxication, or if he was busy formulating his response.
“Looks like you’re in the wrong place,” he growled again. He narrowed his eyes at me and waddled over to the bar where Lenny was laughing with several of the younger members. I watched as he grabbed Lenny and pulled him aside, I could see the spittle from the side of his mouth and it looked like he was giving Lenny a good berating. Had Lenny slipped too many details to his new best bud, me?
My view of the confrontation was blocked as Martin stepped into view. “Michael Brady, Martin Hawoodly, pleasure to meet you,” he said. I shook his hand and looked into his eyes, a habit I had perfected over the years. I could usually tell at that moment, connected by hand and eyes, if a person was genuine - and Martin’s eyes shone with kindness. Could I be losing my touch?
“Are you thinking about joining our club?” he asked.
“I’m considering it. I’m not sure if it’s the right fit though.” If I couldn’t get answers from a drunken bastard, I might as well try to get them from a social do-gooder.
“There are all kinds here,” he smiled and took a sip of his scotch.
“I see that,” I said looking around the room of white men. The only diversity I could see in the room was age…
“When did you become a member?” I asked in an attempt to keep our conversation flowing whilst spying on Lenny and Roger’s interaction over his shoulder. When I saw Lenny standing alone at the end of the bar, I was disappointed but able to fully concentrate on my conversation with Martin.
“Oh, I’m a fairly new pledge here,” he said. “I only come out once a month to network. I was spending so much time with my family, I thought that I might be missing out on some valuable business connections. We are trying to expand our hockey program into the south, and that means we are going to need to build ice rinks, which aren’t cheap. The donations that the club members can get could easily fund our next project.”
He was a good guy.
“That’s it? That’s why you’re here?” I nudged him in the side. He smiled at me.
“I do like the scotch, and it’s nice to get out and be on my own every once in a while.”
“What does your wife think?” I asked.
“Oh, she’s happy to get me out of her hair for the night. Although she makes me shower the second I get home, you know, the smoke smell and all.”
“I’ve heard rumors about this club, I guess they aren’t true,” I mused.
“I’ve heard them too, and I’m not naïve, Michael. You can make this club into whatever you need. I need connections and a night out. That’s all. If some of the men here need to do other things, they do them. I don’t concern myself with any of that.”
So, there was something else.
“I don’t know if I can risk my name being associated with something like that,” I said, sitting on the arm of a leather club chair.
“And I can? I run a children’s charity, Mr. Brady. This is a social club. That’s it. Full stop. There is nothing wrong with being affiliated with the Ames Founder’s Club. If there are unsavory things going on, and I’m not saying that there are, it’s not a representation of what we do here.”
“What if I want something more, you know, like the rumors.” I knew that I was pushing it, but I was confused by all the conflicting information.
“Good day, Mr. Brady,” Martin turned on his heels and walked away from me, shaking his head.
