Page 13 of Release Me

Her instructions are just as impressive as the effortless stride she uses to walk away after firing them off. Marcus scoffs, muttering something about crazy, demanding women while he wipes down the bar. I watch Nadia, more interested than I should be in who she’s going through so much trouble to impress. Since I personally review every member application, I’m not surprised to find that I know the man she’s sitting with. His name is Preston Fredericks, and he used to be a regular here.

“Marcus,” I call his name with my eyes still on Nadia and Preston. When he places his hand on her thigh, I rise from my seat and button my suit jacket. Everything in me wants to go over there and ruin his night, but I reign in that desire, knowing it won’t be good for business if paying members see me personally tossing one of their own out on his ass.

“Yeah, boss?”

Finally, I look away from them, pinning Marcus with a hard stare, so he knows I’m serious. “Make sure you do exactly as she says, alright?”

Marcus gawks. “You really want me taking orders from the wine snob?”

“Only if you want to keep your job.” I double tap the counter and force myself to walk towards the exit without looking back. Once I’m in my car and headed home, I place a call to Regina. Despite the late hour, she picks up on the first ring.

“Two things,” I say without even letting her speak.

“Okay, let’s hear them.”

“I need a meeting with Nadia Hendrix at Ludus tomorrow. She interviewed for a server position at Cerros, so her contact information should be on file.”

“Got it. And the other thing?”

My teeth clench, images of Preston’s stupid face cracking into a shit eating grin when Nadia sat down beside him flash through my mind. This isn’t a business decision, but it can’t be personal because I don’t know Nadia personally, so it’s something in between. Something primal and necessary. Something dark and possessive that I promise myself I’ll only act on this once.

“Sebastian?” Regina calls. “What’s the other thing?”

“Preston Fredricks. I want his membership revoked.”

“Mr. Fredricks was one of Ludus’ first members.”

“I’m aware, Regina.”

“I know, sir, I’m just not sure I understand?—”

“You don’t need to understand,” I growl, neglecting to mention that I don’t understand either. That logic and understanding are a thin layer of glass beneath my feet, creaking and groaning under the weight of the feeling in my chest that doesn’t allow me to see reason. “Just get it done.”

“Okay, and you would like this to take effect when?”

“Immediately.”

“Immediately?” She squeaks, and I can all but see her round eyes going wide with shock. This is unprecedented. I’ve never revoked a membership to Ludus. Our screening process is so strenuous it’s never been necessary, but all I can see in my mind’s eye is Nadia hand feeding Preston duck that he washes down with glasses of wine she didn’t even want.

“Immediately. Have security carry him out if need be.”

7

NADIA

“Nadia, the boss wants to see you in his office.”

I’ve never been called to the principal’s office before, but I imagine this is what it would feel like. The low, sinking feeling in your gut that tells you you’ve done something wrong even though you haven’t. The rapid pounding of your heart echoing in your ears, inspired by your name coming over the intercom.

Or, in this case, spoken by Russ—the brutish bouncer who has issued me a guest pass every night for the past month. The first night Desiree brought me to Ludus, Russ chatted her up while I filled out the stack of paperwork necessary to walk through the sleek steel doors behind him. As he took my photo, he cracked jokes about me watching Desiree do her thing, and when my smile didn’t reach my eyes, he told me to relax because I was safe here. Generally, I don’t make a habit of believing anything men say to me, but I chose to believe Russ because it made it easier to take hold of Desiree’s hand and follow her into the room where I made a thousand dollars by doing nothing more than sitting on my ass and watching her do work that, by all accounts, she enjoyed.

When Desiree put the money in my hand—ten crisp hundred dollar bills I gaped at for longer than necessary—she explained that her guy, Paul something or other, had added a nice tip to thank her for fitting him in on short notice and me for really selling the whole shell shocked look. I was so grateful to her for calling and bullying me into coming, I pulled her into a hug, letting the first rush of truly positive emotion I’d felt in a while spill out of me in a wave of happy tears Desiree wiped away with gentle swipes of her thumb that spoke of understanding.

After that, we drank champagne that triggered unbidden thoughts of eyes belonging to the infuriating stranger I keep running into and ate the best food I’ve had in months. We danced with the other girls working the floor and I opened up, giving them a thinned out back story that focused mainly on my bad experiences with sex work, which some of them, unfortunately, could relate to. Like Desiree, all of the girls encouraged me to come work at the club, hinging their entire pitch on perks Desiree had already told me about and the money I could make doing things like working the floor and chatting up men who paid for company instead of sex.

None of them, however, mentioned this supposed boss Russ speaks of. I’m not dumb. I know that an operation like Ludus doesn’t happen without someone with deep pockets and a lot of connections behind it, but no one has so much as uttered a word about who the man running the show actually is. Given the illegal nature of the operation, it’s understandable that the man funding things wouldn’t want to be highly visible. I understand hiding to protect yourself. What I don’t understand is why he wants to see me, of all people.

“Maybe he heard about you getting into with Marcus at the bar,” Desiree speculates, trailing behind me. “Or he might want to talk to you about Preston getting kicked out.”

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