Page 12 of Whatever Lola Wants

Now she was amused. He no doubt knew the answer to that question, but she’d play along. “No, in San Francisco. I stopped attending clubs and parties about a year before I moved to Chicago three years ago.”

“I see. Are you a submissive?”

He already knew the answer to that, as well. “No, I’m a switch.”

“Interesting.” His voice went speculative. “We don’t have many switches at Odyssey.”

I’m not a unicorn, she thought with a spurt of annoyance.

“Can you provide any references?” Michael asked, oblivious to her irritation. “From former play partners, clubs, etcetera?”

“Of course, though not from anyone in Chicago."

“I’m familiar with the San Francisco scene.”

Okay, then. “The club I frequented most often was The Spot. Xander Hayes is the owner.”

“Hmm.” She heard the light scratching of a pen on paper. “Anyone else?”

“A couple of private play partners, but I’m afraid I can’t give their names without speaking with them first.”

“Of course,” he said smoothly. “Why don’t you come by the club tomorrow night, around eight-thirty. We should speak privately before the club gets too busy for me to step away.”

She mentally checked her schedule and ruthlessly rearranged it. “That’ll be fine.”

“I trust you don’t need directions?”

“No, I’ve been there before.” As you well know.

“Of course. I’ll see you then. Oh, and Lola?”

“Yes?”

“I’d like you to bring your toy bag, if you have one. I trust that won’t be a problem?”

Her lips twitched again. “No, no problem.”

“Excellent. I’ll look forward to seeing you.”

She laughed as the call ended and, tossing her pen down on the forgotten draft. She rose from her desk, padding through the apartment on bare feet. She thumbed her phone, pulling up Anna’s number as she walked into the spare bedroom she’d turned into a home office.

“Hi, Lo. What’s up?”

She opened the closet she used to store winter coats, luggage, and the large leather bag she hadn’t used in over four years. “Are you and Grant still going to the club tomorrow night?”

“Yeah, probably about nine-thirty. Why? Did you change your mind about coming along?”

“I’m meeting with Michael at eight-thirty.”

Anna’s gasp made her grin as she tugged the bag from the floor of the closet and set it on the desk.

“To join?”

“I think it’s more of an audition,” Lola said. “He asked for references.”

“Really?” Anna sounded intrigued. “He didn’t do that with me.”

“Well, you’re a submissive.” Lola unzipped the bag and pulled out the plastic case that held her needles. “If I’m going to be topping people in his club, he’s going to want to make sure I’m not a fuckup.”

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