Page 77 of The Boss

One of life’s greatest pleasures is blowing my girlfriend away by where I take her.

Like Danica Moreau’s upscale sex club, a cozy leather-clad getaway called Midnight.

I’ve only been here a couple of times before. For one, I don’t come to this city very often, outside of in-and-out trips purely to get business done. For another, I’m not exactly hitting up every sex club I come across, even though I have nothing against the concept.

When Moreau called me up to announce the birth of her first child and the subsequent change in plans, I immediately offered to come out here instead. Her wife is the one on maternity leave right now. Surely, Danica can do some crucial business as long as her newborn is only a mile away. For fuck’s sake, I don’t even think they’ve been discharged from the hospital yet. She’s got time.

I was also the one who put the idea of the club in her head. I know she does a ton of business at Midnight, as long as the associate is like-minded. This is also me deciding that this frazzled new mom could use a night out to both do business and let loose for a while. No, I’m the last woman on the planet who would urge someone to cheat on their wife who has just given birth, but I also know that a new parent like her would most certainly appreciate having some time off before bringing the newborn home.

“Jules,” Alessa hisses, thinking I’m going to hear her loud and clear above the happy rabble of club music and couples getting their freak on in the middle of a club. “There are people having sex in here.”

I wrap my arm around her as we ascend the staircase leading to the Platinum VIP room. “They certainly are, Princess.”

“Princess? That’s a new one.”

I have a million nicknames for my girlfriend, and I’ve called herPrincessbefore… but that term is the one I think is most appropriate tonight. “You’re my naughty princess, even if we are conducting business.” Alessa shudders beneath my touch. That’s the exact reaction I wanted.

“Good to see you two made it here all right,” Danica Moreau says the moment we enter the room overlooking the club. She gets up from her couch and extends her hand for a shake. Stu joins the small contingent of bodyguards lining up along the wall. Alessa also spares them a glance. “Lovely to see you as well, Ms. Penrose.”

She snaps her head back around. “Er, yes. Pleasure to see you again as well, Ms. Moreau.” She lightly shakes hands before we’re shown to our couch on the far side of the room. A server in a skirt shorter than Alessa’s approaches and asks us what we would like to drink or possibly snack on. I order a couple ofcocktails for us and ask my girlfriend if she’s hungry. After all, we haven’t eaten anything since we landed.

When she doesn’t answer, I ask our hostess what’s good. “I recommend the cucumber sandwiches, but that may be because we use my mother’s recipe.”

I can’t relate to a mother’s home cooking. The thought of my mother cooking anything aside from half-brained schemes to get her children-in-law out of her hair is absurd. “Sounds delicious. Go light on the mayo and Alessa will eat half of them.”

Danica confirms the order with the server before taking off down the stairs. She doesn’t spare the waitress a second glance before finishing off her glass of whisky and checking her phone for messages. “Pardon me,” she says. “Never know what I might hear this week.”

“No worries.”

“Congratulations, by the way.”

Moreau turns her attention to my girlfriend. “Thank you.” She’s probably heard that phrase a thousand times this week. “But life goes on, yes? I’m not the one in a hospital bed recuperating from giving birth. We have business to conduct this weekend. I only hope that it’s not too much for either of you.”

“I’m right at home,” I say, suppressing a grin. She has no idea.

“I…” Alessa opens her bag and withdraws her work tablet. “I’m fine. Shall we get started, ladies?”

Is she fooling us with this act? I take the tablet out of her hands and put it back in its bag. “None of that is necessary tonight.” To enunciate my point, I push a lock of her hair behind her ear and tickle the tip of her cartilage. “You’ll notice that Ms. Moreau’s assistant is not here.”

“One of mine has quit. Real shame, too. She was good.”

“Oh! I’m sorry to hear that. It wasn’t Ms. Oduya, was it?”

“No. The other one.”

Alessa falls silent. Neither of us expects her to know who she’s talking about. If anything, Moreau was trying to make light conversation to assuage my girlfriend’s nerves. I appreciate it, but I’m the one who knows how to make Alessa feel comfortable in a sexually charged atmosphere. Because she and I have both noticed the BDSM demonstration on the main stage downstairs. The lucky audience is watching a pro dominatrix take on two half-naked women, one of whom is seemingly obsessed with licking her boots. Simply another night at Midnight.

I may have withheld a few things from my girlfriend on the way here. Tonight’s meeting is nothing but pleasantries. To steal yet another phrase from my brother, I am here to cunnilingue this woman’s ego so she’s primed to pump money into my venture tomorrow. I’m also here to gauge how Alessa reacts to this sort of atmosphere. I’ve been contemplating going into a similar line of business and opening up my club. A kinky one, of course. The PNW is severely lacking a cozy hub for rich kinksters to congregate and get to know each other Biblically. Oh, there are plenty of sex and swingers clubs in Portland and beyond, but they’re not my kind of scene. I’d much rather come to a place like this.

But only if Alessa is on board. After all, I would be spending a lot of time there. And as much advice as I can take from Presley, who knows a thing or two about hosting, I’d much rather have Alessa help me decorate and choose the right vibe of the place we might call our second home when it comes to work and pleasure.

Right now, I’m not surprised to find her a bit shell-shocked. I’d be more surprised if she instantly took to it like a fish to water. Oh, do I ever enjoy opening my girlfriend’s mind to the wonders of the realm…

I don’t want her working on anything. I don’t want her distracted by business when there’s a sensual world surrounding her. It’s all well and good if Moreau and I make a few decisionsthat we’ll wish we had written down tonight—after another whisky for her and two cocktails for me, no less—but we’ll live. We’ve done business like this for years.

Every once in a while, I glance over and see Alessa taking in the sights below. We have a protective vantage point from up here. She can spectate, but there is no expectation of participation. She gets all the thrills without any of the embarrassment.

I keep my arm wrapped behind her, lining the back of this plush couch with my legs crossed in her direction. I advertise to both Moreau and her bodyguards that this woman belongs to me. Not that I think any of them are going to try something. But it’s not about that. It’s about projecting the right image. To Alessa.

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