Page 26 of João
I pulled out my cell phone and texted the one person missing to make Gisele’s new membership official. A few minutes later, Moses walked into my office.
“Sir Spiritual,” I greeted him by his kink honorific.
“Here you go. What’s up, João, why are you summoning me?”
“I thought you’d be at the fellowship center at this hour.”
“I came to meet with Pedro about some of the rumbles we are all hearing. LaSalle…he’s been making some noise about the club being in his territory now that your father’s passed away,” Moses said, sitting down on the armchair in front of my desk.
“Yeah, Pedro hit me up earlier about it, and I’m hearing it too. LaSalle is playing with fire. Our members are private for a reason.”
What did Moses thought of this dilemma? For the past couple of weeks, the streets were brimming with LaSalle’s noise about my club. I’d never had a problem in the past with LaSalle or any of the street executives; they respected my establishment and I didn’t mess with them. Many of the men under their command, and even some of the executives themselves, were club members. Kink communities like ours were established in trust, which gave many of the executives a safe, neutral space to conduct business and make moves. Between Pedro, his team, Moses, and I, we knew and protected information that could make or break organizations.
LaSalle probably wanted the same deal of access without any understanding of how it was built. When people saw a club like mine, they immediately suspected illegal activities, but that wasn’t the case. Extortion would not work for LaSalle, but he would find other ways to press me and my members.
Was the club worth the fight that threatened to come?
The question had lingered in the silent emptiness that engulfed me. I wasn’t certain what the goal was anymore, what my drive was. Everything that needed to happen had happened. All was well. Maybe I could find happiness elsewhere. This chapter of my life could be considered closed and finished.
“You’re not wrong, but you don’t seem too concerned about him pressing for now. Do you have a plan?”
Dragging my knuckle across my nose, I shifted topics, not ready to discuss the cards already laid on the table regarding LaSalle.
“I need you to be Gisele’s second sponsor. I want to ensure her membership application and approval is by the book.”
Moses’ light complexion reddened under my gaze. Our friendship had deep roots and had been tested by adversity, but never had we been romantically attracted to the same person. Of course, it would be Gisele to cause such a situation between Moses and me.
“I’d be glad to be her sponsor, but you and I need to have things straight if she’s gonna join the club. Speak up and say what you want; I ain’t looking to cross any lines.”
“She’s her own woman; she can decide who she plays with and who she wants to approach for a dynamic. I can’t and won’t get in her way.”
“There are other clubs, other people that are kinky, though. It doesn’t need to be in your club.” Moses tilted his head, calmly waiting me out. He could wait all he wanted; we both knew that wasn’t an option.
“Those niggas out there not part of our club aren’t part of the club for a reason. I want her to have a good experience.”
“It’s not your responsibility to save every lost soul, João,” Moses sighed.
“We do what’s right.” I rapped my knuckles on the oakwood desk.
“You’re preaching to the choir, brother. Alright, I’ll sponsor your woman.” He gave anigga, pleaselook at my bored expression. “Give me that at least. Accept that she’s your woman even if she don’t know it,” Moses said. He signed the document I slid toward him.
Satisfied with everything, I approved Gisele’s application and emailed her with the next steps to finalize the process.
Gisele’s eagerness tojoin the club shouldn’t irritate me, but it did. I had never run away from my feelings, or so I liked to think, so I sat with that discomfort for a day. She asked for her intake interview as soon as possible, so two days after she was accepted, her name flashed in my calendar reminder, a nagging visual of the route she’d decided to take. By this point, I’d let the irritation do what it needed to do, and I came out on the other side, ready to deal with her presence in my space.
A soft knock signaled her arrival—that and the hitch in my chest, impossible to ignore.
“Gisele, welcome.”
Gisele stood in a buttoned-up purple blouse with black pleated wide-leg pants. Every button of her blouse was secured all the way up to her neck. Only a brief expanse of her soft brown skin was visible in the small peekaboo feature right between her clavicles. Her hair was straight today, parted in the middle to run down her shoulders, perfectly arranged. Her soft facial features were adorned by modest makeup, her brown eyes the star of the show. Lush, mauve-colored lips spread in a tentative smile and warm pressure settled in the middle of my chest, simultaneously expanding my lungs and forcing me to breathe more air.
“Hello…may I call you Master Q here?” she asked, her inquisitiveness prodding me to show her more of this side of my life. She studied the dark blue walls dotted with erotic black and white illustrations, each with a lighted frame, the plants sprinkled in nooks and corners, and my collection of sex toysbehind my massive desk. Could she decipher anything from what surrounded her?
“You may, and you? How do you want to be called while in the club?” I moved away from the door to give her space, and she followed my gesture. Pulling the royal green armchair closer to my desk, I signaled her to sit.
“Gissy works.” Gisele sank into the oversized armchair, back straight, knees together, palms on knees, feet together to her right. She radiated temptation without knowing it. Such beautiful posture. If she were mine, truly mine, I’d praise her for being such an obedient girl.
Errant thoughts had no space here. I wanted to keep the boundaries clear from the beginning.
