“Your mum will have her. Please Soph, it’ll be good for us.”
He’s right; it would be good for us, but I’m not comfortable leaving Lily at short notice like this and to help my friend, I’ve agreed to pick up her daughter as well after school.
Glancing around me for a clock, I’m wondering if it’s early enough that I could cancel with Zoe, but that’s shitty.
“I’d love to, but . . .”
“I’ll call your mum,” he says, dragging his ever-present phone from his pocket.
“No, wait.” I stand, moving to his side. “Darling, I’ve offered to pick up Zoe’s daughter tonight too. It’s too late to cancel. It would have been different if I’d told her this morning. Can you give me a bit more notice, and I’ll come next time? I promise.”
I witness his face fall, the shutters he so often uses immediately sliding back into place.
“Okay, never mind,” he says, brushing me off.
This isn’t an isolated incident. On occasion, it seems he is trying to make me select between him and our child. Every time I choose Lily, he gets disappointed. I’m aware that isn’t the case; after all, it was his choice that we raise her without nannies. However, it appears his mind is full of conflicting ideas.
“Are you finished with my laptop?” he demands, his tone frosty.
“Yes, thank you.” I lean over to close the shopping website. “Spence, I’m sorry, I just...”
“Don’t worry about it. It was a stupid idea,” he mutters, pressing a gentle kiss to my forehead as he grabs the laptop. “You’re right, I’ll give you more warning next time. I’d prefer not to leave Lily alone. It would just be nice to get a bit of adult time, occasionally.”
I’m just about to protest, when he adds.
“I’ll try to adjust my schedule so that I can get home more in the evening. These dinner meetings are killing me.”
I smile. It’s impossible to be certain if what he’s telling me is completely true. I’ve seen on his calendar that he has a lot of evening meetings, but I have no way of knowing that they’re not dates with women.
The moment he left for the airport, I took out my iPad to search through the files I’d emailed.
Within minutes of opening the first file, reality hit. Spencer invested in a sex club with his former school friend, Travis Buckley, two years ago.
I wish I could say I’m surprised, but in reality I’m amazed he hasn’t done it sooner.
Travis was the man who introduced us to the club scene. There was talk years ago about his setting up a club. He even asked me for feedback because I was the only girl who got a membership with them.
Hours later, I’m still scrolling through my tablet, obsessed with researching my husband’s new club, Locked.
It’s beautifully decadent, and right up Spencer’s street. The interior alone screams opulence, with swathes of luxurious furnishings, marble, and glass. The design of the place is clever. There’s nothing seedy about it. No colored lights and uplighters. It’s been created to enhance erotic fantasies, and from the photographs alone, I’m certain my husband has had a hand in the formation.
I am hurt that he couldn’t talk about this with me. His secrecy suggests things in our marriage are worse than I initially thought.
I’m as certain as I can be that the woman Spencer’s seeing has something to do with his club.
Could she be a member of staff?
With the intention of gaining access, to see it for myself, I research the admission rules. My eyes bug out when I see the cost of membership.
Whoa, this place is elite.
Fuck it.
It’s possible to buy the membership online, but I’d have to go through a rigorous checking system, and although Spencer doesn’t grip the purse strings tightly, I’m sure he’d question me if I spentthatmuch money.
Without a membership to get in there, I’d have to find a members list; befriend one of them; and beg to be admitted as a guest. Which seems a bit of a stretch.
My only other option is to ask Carlo—which feels wrong.