Page 4 of Doubling Down

I pull out onto the main road and Casey directs me toward the highway. I’m curious about her unconventional relationship, but I’m not sure if I still have the right to ask about it. I’d love to compare notes, but I didn’t exactly pursue something long-term with the twins.

“Where are we going, anyway?” I ask.

“You’ll see,” she says with a devious smile.

I can only assume it’s some kind of nightclub, considering she insisted that I put on a skimpy black velvet mini-dress that drapes low in front and shows off the fanciest bra I own, something I splurged on during a weekend trip to Los Angeles with my roommate. Black satin straps that look like fat ribbons crisscross over my chest. It looks like it could be part of the dress, but it isn’t. It makes me feel sexy and uninhibited, and I get a thrill from simply being seen wearing it, even though I made a vow not to get involved with anyone until I graduate from college. I don’t want to risk the emotional devastation of losing someone again when I need to focus on school.

“Do Max and Rick know you’re taking me out? They’re cool with it?”

“Don’t worry, they know. They’ll be there, actually. So whatever happens, if you decide you just need to go, I’ll understand. You don’t need to worry about me, okay?”

I shoot her a worried look. “Okay… now I’m really curious about where we’re going.”

We’re on the highway, and she directs me to take an exit that leads to a wealthy area north of the city, where all the houses have gated grounds and circular drives with acres of land between them. This is decidedly not the way to any nightclubs I’ve ever heard of.

But she keeps mum about where we’re going. Frustrated, I say, “Fine, if you won’t tell me, at least give me some dirt on yourself. I need to know what it’s been like for you the past three years.”

She waves a hand. “Oh, you know—school and work. I’m getting decent grades at Columbia. Majoring in psychology. And I get paid to have sex while people watch.”

She’s so blasé about her answer it takes a second for the last part to sink in. I nearly slam on the brakes.

“What? Did I hear you right?”

Casey laughs. “You did. But shit, to explain, I kind of have to tell you the truth about where we’re going. Doesn’t matter, though, because we’re here. Turn into this driveway.”

I obey, hitting my turn signal and pulling into a driveway with a fancy gatehouse blocking a drive that curves through the trees, lit with ornate lampposts all the way. I roll down my window and a man peeks in. “May I help you, miss?”

“George, it’s me,” Casey says, leaning over the console and waving. “This is my best friend, Sarah. I already put her on the list for a tour of Whitewood tonight.”

“Ah, yes, Miss Strauss. You ladies enjoy your evening.”

He presses a button to raise the gate, and I drive through, glancing at Casey. “So you’re going to explain everything, right?”

“You know, it might be easier if I just show you, but I promise, all will be revealed.” She grins as if she just made a joke, but I’m not sure I get it.

I return my eyes to the road, which is a narrow lane that winds around through dense woods. The trees finally open onto the grounds of a gorgeous Tudor mansion, well-lit from the outside. I stop at a valet stand, and someone immediately opens my door for me and offers me a white-gloved hand. I take it, too surprised not to, and step out of the car, carefully smoothing my hands down my slinky dress, then reaching back in for my purse.

“Where did you bring me, Case?” I ask under my breath as I follow her up the flagstone walkway to the house.

A muscular man in a very fitted suit nods at her, then leans over to open one of a pair of double doors. On my way past, I surreptitiously check him out, and wow, is he built. He also has an earbud in one ear. A second guy, similarly huge—also with an earbud—waits at another set of doors inside.

“This is where I work,” she says.

I absorb the information, but it’s still not quite making sense. She gets paid to let people watch her have sex. And this is where she works… in the most beautiful house I’ve ever set foot in.

We step into an opulent foyer, and I just stare at the polished mahogany paneling, silk damask wallpaper, and crystal chandelier. Two enormous bouquets of summer flowers rest on tables flanking the archway ahead of us, but on either side are two other openings, beyond which are scattered a dozen or so well-dressed people, milling around and drinking champagne while they chat.

It’s the fanciest party I’ve ever been to, and I suddenly feel underdressed. Half the men are in suits, and all the women are in cocktail dresses that appear designer-made. I admit when I put on my Agent Provocateur bra, I felt like I might be showing off a little much, but now it seems like I couldn’t have possibly gone overboard in this crowd.

A pair of men stand out, wearing worn jeans and snug cotton T-shirts. They see us standing there, and Casey waves. Some of the tension eases from my body. Thank god, someone I know.

Max and Rick saunter over, smiling. “It’s been a while, Sarah,” Max says, leaning down to kiss my cheek. He doesn’t look a day older than when I last saw him, and is as hot as ever with his dark hair and devious dark eyes.

“What kept you away so long?” Rick asks, pulling me into a tight hug so I can smell the familiar scents of sawdust and varnish clinging to him—though the last time he hugged me, I was a kid.

This hug is just as innocent as they always were, though, which is comforting. Rick and Max were the DILFs of our neighborhood, but were always the nicest, coolest dudes. And I guess they never technically had kids of their own, so the term is probably misplaced. Either way, Casey could’ve done a lot worse.

“Oh, you know, school kind of monopolized my time.” I wave a hand and let out a nervous laugh.

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