Page 43 of Tarek

“Now imagine a husband is in your club and his wife called. She asks him, ‘Where are you?’ What is his reply going to be?”

We pull up to the towering iron gate and as it slides open, I reply, “I’m Nowhere.”

* * *

PENNY

This is not what I imagine when I hear the words “sex club”. I think of neon lights and strippers. People could be found in compromising positions, copulating everywhere.

Nowhere is not what I expect. I expected raunchy, loud, incense burning, the smell of sex and moans and groans. Hedonism! Instead, we are driving up a long driveway, in the distance I can see a multiple level building with extensive glass walls. Why does a sex club have so many glass windows? The building has a sleek architectural design. The greenery surrounding the building and the forested areas gives the illusion of a secluded private sanctuary. The building interior lighting gives off a warm inviting glow. It’s both sophisticated and elegant. No one will ever think of it as a sex club. It’s a perfect representation of hiding in plain sight.

Tarek stops the car and slips out, passing the key to someone, he runs round the front of the car and opens the car door.

I’m amazed at the sheer size of the building. Placing my hand in his, I gracefully step out.

“Wasn’t what you expected?”

I shake my head. “No, this looks like a beautiful refuge.”

“Trust me, it’s a refuge for many.”

We walk up some beautiful grey marble stairs we are greeted by one large door. It looks like it takes two men to open it. The surrounding area is quiet and still. Tarek places his palm on a black panel at the side of the door. A green light flashes under it and we both step back as the door like magic begins to open.

“Welcome to Nowhere,” he says. The door opens, revealing a warmly lit foyer with large green potted palms in the corners. I see some people sitting on several brown leather chairs, chatting, drinking. No sex. What kind of sex club was this?

Where are the people having sex on mattresses thrown across the floor? Where was the sex swing? The chains, the whips? The soft sound of a piano plays throughout the room.

“This is not what I expected. Is that Mozart that I’m hearing?” I ask.

A waitress places drinks on a coffee table in front of a couple that were looking into each other’s eyes.

“This is lame. Why is it so peaceful out here?” I huff.

Tarek snickers to the side of me.

“Walk this way.” Tarek places his hand on my lower back and ushers me to two doors that automatically open.

The air around me shifts, I can feel a vibration in the floor. Was there a party somewhere? The door behind us shuts.

We step into a dark room, where a single light shines down on a pretty Asian girl with jet black hair with glasses sitting behind a glass desk.

“Good day, Mr. Fairisles. Would your guest require a tour guide?” She opens the drawer taking a black bag pointing it at me.

“What’s that for?” I ask.

“Your phone, ma’am.”

Instantly, I look at Tarek. “I’m not giving my phone to anyone.”

As if sensing my stress, Tarek takes the bag from his employee. “She is here as my guest. Her phone is allowed.”

“Will she be needing a tour, Mr. Fairisles? Lystra is available,” the receptionist asks.

“No, I will be her guide,” Tarek replies calmly.

Before she could ask another question, both Tarek and I pass through a metal detector. It goes off, but Tarek grabs my hand and brings my attention to him.

We are standing in the dark, with low lit ceiling lights above us.

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