Page 3 of In Case You Didn't Know
“The same old Charlie. He’s in L.A. at the moment.”
A dreamy expression comes over her face. “I went to L.A. with him once. Best weekend ever.” She turns to the desk next to her, picking up a thick bracelet that has a tiny computerized screen on it. “This is your pass. You’ll need to wear it at all times. Anybody found inside the club without one is removed by security.”
I slide it onto my wrist, trying not to smile at how much this feels like going to a conference or exhibition. Maybe it’s going to be okay after all.
“There’s no photography, obviously,” she reminds me. “No saying your real name. And if you have any trouble at all, come find me, I’ll be here all night.”
I take a deep breath. “Where should I start?” I ask. She knows I’m only there to observe, not partake.
“Through that door is the main hall. It’s where people go to relax, hang out. There’s some beautiful women in there, serving drinks. Sometimes doing more.” Her lip quirks. “But it’s gentle and a good place to begin.”
Charlie has obviously warned her that I’m a novice at this. At all things, pretty much. “That sounds good.”
“And then, maybe after a couple of drinks, I’d suggest you go to room five. It’s a voyeur room. Watching is very much encouraged in rooms five through seven. You won’t stand out, and there’s always some interesting things going on in those rooms.”
Her eyes twinkle and I try not to blush. Because we both know what interesting means.
“Definitely avoid rooms one to four,” she tells me. “Unless you’re feeling brave. They’re group participation only. No voyeurism”
I nod. “No rooms one to four. Got it.”
“And rooms eight to twenty are for private encounters. There’s a light on each door. Red means occupied, green means empty. They’re accessible with your bracelet. Each participant will need to swipe if they are using the bed.”
“I won’t be using them,” I say firmly. I’m here to research, that’s it. I’d probably spontaneously combust if I did anything other than that.
“Okay.” She smiles widely. “Any questions?”
“None right now. But thanks for answering the ones I had when we spoke last week. It was really useful.”
“Again, anything for a friend of Charlie’s.” She looks at the door and presses a button. “You’re in. Have fun.”
“Thanks.” Though I’m not sure thatfundescribes it accurately. Fear mixed with the need to run is how I’m feeling right now. If I get through tonight without barfing, I’ll be happy.
I take a deep breath and tell myself to woman up. I’ll wander around for a couple of hours, take in the sights, smells, and feels that I’ll need to write the scenes I’ve agreed to with my editor, and by midnight I should be home in my fleecy pajamas with a cup of hot cocoa.
Two hours, a few mental notes, and zero interaction.
What could possibly go wrong?
two
ASHER
Looking at the banks of monitors in front of me, I let out a sigh. The security room of the sex club on the corner of Stratton Street is the last place I want to spend my Friday night. And yet here I am, sitting in front of a dozen screens, my laptop linked to the club’s security system, trying really hard not to look at the dozen different real-life porn scenes playing out in their full, unexpurgated glory.
“Wow.” The owner, a suave suited, bald, sixty-something, leans over me, looking at the interface from my laptop to their security system. “That’s a lot of letters and numbers.”
The multi-million – soon to be billion – dollar cyber security company we formed straight out of college works mostly with government contracts, not with a damn erotic clubs in the middle of Manhattan, but here I am, thanks to my ex-business partner who tried to throw me down the river.
This was one of his many dodgy fucking deals. I let him run wild last year, mostly because I was neck deep in creating this new security model. But while Nathan might not be my business partner anymore – or at least he won’t once he accepts the verygenerous amount of money I’m offering him and signs on the line – I’m not backing out. He agreed to update their security system to make it state of the art, and that’s what I’ve done.
And as soon as we run the final checks, my job here will be done. I can’t fucking wait.
“It will really alert me before anything happens?” the owner asks me. I start taking him through how the newly designed system works.
A woman slowly spreads her legs on one of the screens in front of me and I immediately look away.
“The software is designed to track interactions,” I tell him. “It won’t record them, but if it sees behavior out of the norm, an alert goes off.” Along with a small team, I’ve worked for years on this software, which has never included Nathan. He was always the smooth talker, businessman, while I worked on the products.
