Page 28 of Roberto

A middle-aged couple – he in a suit and she in a red dress – whispered to a woman in a strappy dominatrix ensemble.

And at another table, a naked woman sat drinking a martini as a man in a black body suit crouched beside her like a dog. In addition to the latex body suit, he wore a leash and a leather mask with no eye holes, just a zipper over the mouth.

“Freaky shit,” Han repeated in disgust as he turned away from the man on the leash and headed for the bar.

Most of the people in the room were Asian, but there were some Westerners here and there.

God only knows where the man in the zippered mask hailed from.

Along the far wall of the lounge were recessed booths with black curtains that could be closed for privacy.

Most of the curtains were shut, although one was open at the far end of the room.

Inside the booth, a couple was having sex. Both were fully clothed, but the woman wore a short skirt pulled up around her waist, and she sat on the man’s lap as she vigorously bobbed up and down.

Her eyes met mine, and she held my gaze like her life depended on it. From the way her mouth opened into an ‘O’ andher features contorted, I realized that our eye contact had tipped her over into an orgasm.

“What do you want to drink?” Han asked behind me.

I turned around in a daze, a bit shocked at the display of exhibitionism, and saw Han already had a glass in hand.

“I thought you said prostitution was illegal in Hong Kong,” I whispered.

“I saidbrothelsare illegal. There’s this law called ‘one woman, one room’ – you can bang a whore as long as she’s got her own place.”

I didn’t like the way he sneered ‘whore,’ but I let it go.

“What about them?” I asked, gesturing towards the booth.

Han looked over at the couple. “It’d be illegal if one of them worked here.”

“How do you know one of them doesn’t work here?”

“Because they’re bothlaowai.”

The word rhymed with ‘how why.’ The way Han said it, it didn’t sound complimentary.

“‘Laowai’?” I repeated.

Han smirked. “Westerners. Nolaowaiwork at De Sade.”

Han was correct: neither the man nor the woman were Asian.

“Aren’t the things that go on in this club illegal?” I asked.

“Not if you don’t have sex. What do you want?” he asked again as he held up his drink.

“Nothing, thank you.”

“Fuck that,” Han said, and turned back to the bartender. “Get him a whiskey.”

“No – ”

“Then choose your drink, but getsomething.”

“Fine. Scotch, neat – your oldest Macallan, if you have it.”

“We do,” the bartender answered with a British accent. “25 alright?”

---