Page 2 of Room Seventeen

“That’s sweet. I’ll keep it in mind.”

He winks and then walks to the elevator to continue his rounds through the offices in this building. I glance to my left, but neither Xander nor Garrett are looking my way, coldness radiating from their offices for no reason.

* * *

Forty-five minutes later, I’m greeting our prospective client at the elevator and escorting her to the conference room. Garrett walks in behind us, his slim, muscular body beautifully framed in a tailored gray suit and teal button-down that sets his bright blue eyes aflame. He’s got a casual smile and firm handshake for the client, something that always infuses them with confidence.

Then walks in Darian looking amazing in his black suit with a light pink dress shirt and monochromatic tie. I love it when he wears pink. The light color pops against his dark skin, giving him a polished sheen. He’s carrying his leather portfolio and sets it at the head of the table, claiming his spot and silently declaring his authority.

I move to the client’s side, waiting for Darian to finish his introduction.

“Can I get you something to drink?” I ask, knowing that Darian will drink water, Garrett will drink green tea, and Xander will have seltzer water—all of which I already have on the table.

“Coffee with a touch of Baileys?”

I smile at the frazzled woman. I’m not sure why she’s here, but if she was referred to my bosses for help, it’s something that would shred most people’s nerves. “I’ll see what I can do.”

Exiting the conference room, I run right into Xander’s big, muscled body, his hands instantly wrapping around my hips to steady me. The man is a tank and yet can class it up with the best of them. He’s also wearing a black suit, his button-down white, the collar open to expose his throat. I don’t think I’ve ever had a second thought about a man’s collarbone or Adam’s apple, and yet I’ve fantasized about nibbling along every inch of this man’s chest and throat for months.

“Is the client here?” He glances over my head, his hands still on my hips.

“Yeah. Darian and Garrett are already inside.” I take a small step back, which seems to alert Xander as to where he has his hands. He makes a show of letting me go, much to my disappointment, and gives me a small smile. He’s about to enter the conference room when I stop him by grabbing hold of his bulging bicep. “Hey, is it okay if I knock off a little early today? I have a few errands to run before I leave town tomorrow morning.”

He searches my face like he always does and then nods. “Yeah, of course.”

“Thanks, Xander. If you need anything, I’m only a phone call away.”

“Have a good trip. See you Monday.”

“Monday.” I suppress the giggle threatening to erupt from my lips and turn, walking as quickly as possible to the break room where we have an embarrassingly well-stocked bar. While I fix the client’s coffee with a generous pour of Bailey’s, I think about the envelopes sitting on my desk.

Last Saturday, I went to my favorite stationery store downtown,Papier Fantaisie, and bought three of the most beautiful invitations I’ve ever seen. The envelopes are deep red, lined with silver foil, and embossed with a delicate black line. The invitations are made of heavy linen cardstock with crisp clean lines embossed along the edges. This store is my favorite for many reasons, chiefly their craft area in the back that allows you to design and assemble the perfect paper memory there in the store. You can also mail said memories from their store, thus providing me with the illusion that someone who lives on the other side of town crafted these. I spent most of the day creating these three invitations and was sure to use calligraphy to address each envelope. I printed the inside with raised black ink, my words carefully chosen to be direct, but nondescript at the same time.

I suspected they’d come today, which is why I planned to take the rest of the week off. If they’d come yesterday, I would have hidden them until today. Simply put, I can’t watch my bosses’ faces as they read my invitation to Club Sin. One, if they saw my face they’d know in a heartbeat I was the one to send them, and two, if they are anything other than excited about the invitation, I might die of embarrassment. It will kill me to be rejected, even if they have no idea they are rejecting me.

This is my one shot to live out my fantasy. Ivy, the Club Sin coat check girl at the once-a-month club member/guest social event, is brave enough to invite three men to ravish her for the evening. Carlisle is not.

Especially when those three men are her bosses.

2

Darian

“We will take care of it. Your life will be yours again soon.” I stand up and shake our new client’s hand before nodding to my business partners, Garrett and Xander. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ve got some business to finish up before the end of the day.”

Walking back to my office, I notice Carlisle’s not at her desk. I glance at my watch, a bit surprised to find her gone. Although it is past five o'clock, she usually stays until we are done with our meetings. On top of my desk is a stack of mail, a couple of handwritten notes detailing tomorrow morning's meetings, plus three missed calls.

I bring the notes to my face, inhaling a scent that is uniquely her. The woman smells like cotton candy or bubble gum, and my mouth waters every time I breathe her in. The day she walked into this office, she infused everything with her fragrance and has invaded my dreams with fantasies of tasting her ever since.

I flip through the mail, half of which are bills, the other half junk, before I stumble upon a dark red envelope with black and silver trim. It's obviously personal in nature, my name written with practiced calligraphy on the front. I know the postmark—it's from a zip code downtown. Then I flip it over to find a silver wax seal with the initials SC securing the back flap.

My curiosity is piqued as I gently work open the envelope using a pen dagger to crack the wax seal. Inside is an invitation, the front saying nothing more than Room Seventeen in bold, beautiful calligraphy.

Inside it reads:

You are invited to a night of pleasure at

Club Sin, Room Seventeen

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