Page 45 of French Martini

I scrunch my nose. “Society ladies?”

He shifts his gaze to the ceiling for a second. “Bane said they call themselves the Smut Society. They read spicy books.”

I choke out a laugh. “That’s incredible.”

“Yeah, so we want to do it up a little for them so they’ll tell their friends we aren’t just a college bar. They said they wanted to support a queer-owned business to get the older people in town to stop being too intimidated to come in.”

“Amazing.”

“Yeah. See you downstairs.”

He leaves and I take the outfit and hang it on my armoire. I can’t wait to wear it, and even more exciting, see how Oakley reacts to it.

After dressing, I make my way downstairs to join everyone for a late breakfast. A smile fills my face when I see all my friends sitting around the massive dining room table, and for just a second, I imagine Oakley sitting among them, but I quickly push that fantasy away. He likes me right now because it’s all new and fun, but over time he’d figure out how messed up I really aminside. There’s nothing worse than witnessing the spark flicker out. I’d rather never have it than wait for it to die.

I opt for coffee while Ridley explains how our living arrangement works. We don’t have an extra suite, but we have the attic room with its own bathroom and two extra guest rooms that share a hall bath.

“What’s the rent for the guest room? I don’t need much space. I’m not taking anything with me except my own clothes.”

“What’s your budget?” I ask before Ridley can swoop in.

Wren shrugs. “I was hoping to get an apartment for, like, nine hundred dollars maybe.”

“What about four hundred and fifty then?” I ask, glancing at my friends who all nod in agreement. “You’d get the room and access to all the common spaces, of course.”

Relief spreads across his features. “That’s all? Are you sure? Most rooms for rent were going for around six or seven hundred.”

I don’t want to tell him that we all agreed we’d only accept something for rent so he didn’t feel like a charity case. “We’re sure, Wren. There’s furniture in the room but you’re welcome to change out the bedding and whatever to make it feel more like you.”

“Thanks.” His voice is soft. “This means a lot, guys. I was running out of options.”

Salem reaches over and squeezes Wren’s hand where it’s resting on the table. “The offer still stands if you want us to go over and kick his ass. We can sic Indy and Kit on him.”

Wren smiles but shakes his head. “He’s not worth it. I just want to get out of there, you know?”

“We can be there for that,” Ridley offers. “It’s dangerous. Let us back you up, man.”

Wren hesitates but then he nods. “Yeah, maybe that’s a good idea. He’s never let me leave before.”

“When do you want to do this?” Salem asks. “It sounds like the sooner the better.”

“We can be there whenever you want,” Indy says.

“Let’s do it tonight,” Kit suggests. “We close the bar, head over there and get your stuff, and make sure he knows he better not even think about you.”

“He’s going out of town for work on Friday. I was hoping I could do it while he’s gone so there’s no confrontation, but…” He pauses, his face flickering with what looks like a mix of fear and disgust.

“We should do it before that,” Salem says, clearly understanding what Wren isn’t saying.

“Does he hurt you, Wren?” Jerryn asks softly.

“Not like you’re probably thinking. He, um…” Wren glances at Ridley then turns to Salem, who leans in and whispers something to him. Wren nods. “He’s always a real jerk the night before he goes on a work trip. He…demands things of me, whether I want it or not.”

Ridley’s normally happy-go-lucky expression morphs into something so dark and sinister that a shiver runs down my back. I’ve never seen him like that before.

“Yeah, that’s not gonna happen again,” Ridley says in a tone that leaves no room for argument.

“I agree,” I add. “We’ll be there to help.”

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