Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 116232 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 581(@200wpm)___ 465(@250wpm)___ 387(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116232 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 581(@200wpm)___ 465(@250wpm)___ 387(@300wpm)
“I can’t have my phone?” I tried not to screech it, because he’d sort of just asked me to amputate a part of my body.
“You can have it,” he clarified, “you just can’t use it. If they catch you with it out, they’ll ask us to leave, and neither of us will be welcome back.”
“Oh.”
“It’s a safety thing. They don’t want people taking pictures or video.”
I nodded. “That makes sense.”
The weight of my handbag seemed to quadruple when I realized it was no longer needed. I must have made a face, because he shot me a questioning look.
“I’m trying to decide if I should even bother taking this, then.” I raised my elbow, jostling the little purse. “All it does is hold my phone since I don’t have any pockets.”
“I have pockets,” he said. “You want me to hang on to it for you?”
I dug out my phone, but hesitated. “You don’t mind?”
“No.” He chuckled and plucked it from my hand. “I think I can manage.”
I watched as he opened his suit coat and slipped my phone into the interior pocket, and the idea of it was exciting. The small device was such a big part of my life. It was an extension of me, so to know it was nestled inside his jacket, next to his heart, was deeply satisfying.
When I set my no-longer-needed purse on his entryway table, movement drew my gaze out through the front window. A black sedan turned into the driveway.
“Is that—”
“Our ride?” he said. “Yeah. You ready?”
Shit, I was more than ready.
We didn’t talk about the club in front of our driver, like it was some secret we needed to keep, which was sort of ridiculous. The guy knew where we were going—he had the address.
But . . . did he?
Because when we got there, I didn’t see anything that looked remotely like a club. We weren’t in the best part of town, and the street was dark. All the buildings around here looked like they were commercial, and most of them had gone out of business during the pandemic.
I got out of the car when Noah did, but I stood on the sidewalk in disbelief. “You sure this is the right place?”
It was a stupid question, since he’d been here before, but he didn’t make me feel dumb. His laugh was light and casual. “Yeah. I know it’s not much to look at from the outside, but I think that’s kind of the point.”
He gestured to the concrete walkway that was off the sidewalk, leading up to . . .
Oh.
There was a house nestled between two large warehouses, complete with a covered front porch. In another neighborhood, it would have looked cute, but here it was so out of place. It looked old, too, like it had existed long before the industrial buildings that grew up around it.
The windows were dark, most likely blacked out, making the place look empty.
But there was a large chrome E that was backlit, glowing in the night beside the unremarkable front door.
My pulse hurried along as I traveled the pathway and up the two porch steps with Noah at my side. He reached the door first and pulled it open for me.
The entry room was small, only large enough to hold a few people. The walls and ceiling were painted black, and the lighting in the room was low, nearly matching the darkness outside. There was a security guard waiting beside the door that led deeper into the club, and along the side wall was an elegant, shaded lamp and a tall desk. A woman was seated behind it, and she gave us a once-over, followed by a friendly smile. “IDs, please.”
“I need my phone,” I said to Noah. “My license is in the case.”
He handed it to me, and while I fished my driver’s license out of the slot on my case, he extracted his from his wallet and passed it to the woman. Once she’d finished scanning our licenses, she gave me a clipboard and pen.
“Membership form is the first sheet, the waiver is beneath.”
She didn’t have one for him, though.
Because he’s already a member.
While I filled the forms out, Noah paid, and then the woman gave us a quick rundown of the rules. No phones, no going in the bathrooms opposite of our gender identities, and no harassment of any kind. If there were problems, staff wore gold nametags and were always nearby.
When we were all set, she nodded to the security guard, gave us a smile, and pushed a button beneath the desk. “Have fun.”
The door buzzed and the security guard pulled it open for us. I kind of expected it to be like the scene in The Wizard of Oz where Dorothy is in black and white and when she opens the front door, everything changes to vibrant color.