Attraction

by Linn Young

  Lawrence, in a rather courtly manner, mixed drinks at the trolley tray that held various liquors,

  and passed them around. Riley sat silently, sipping her martini, content for the moment to watch

  and listen to Heron being courteous and warm to her parents. Sometimes she thought he went a

  little too far, like when he complimented profusely on their “charmingly small” suburban house

  with its easy comfort. He said that it lent a certain coziness that was missing in his own living

  quarters.

  Oh, give me a break, Riley thought, barely suppressing the rolling of her eyes. How

  generous of him to compare her parents’ tiny middle class suburbia abode to his million dollar

  mansion.

  “Heron, Robbie tells us that your family go way back before gold was discovered in San

  Francisco,” Caroline said.

  Heron looked puzzled. “Robbie?”

  “Roberta,” Caroline said. “We’ve called her Robbie since she was a baby.” Heron looked over at Roberta, reaching for her hand. “I’m afraid I can never call her that.

  I couldn’t possibly equate a boy’s name to someone as beautiful and elegant as your daughter.” Oh, come on, is this guy for real, Riley thought, ready to regurgitate the martini she had

  downed. She could see, though, that her parents were eating it right up.

  Heron said, “Yes. My great, great, great grandfather was one of the early railroad barons.

  That’s where our money comes from. Many say it was blood money, and I’m inclined to agree. “ “Robbie, that is, Roberta tells me that your family is connected to English royalty,”

  Lawrence said.

  Heron winced a little. “My mother says that my great grandmother, who came from

  England, was distantly related to Queen Victoria. I have my doubts, though.”

  Marge appeared from the kitchen to announce that it was time to sit down to dinner. They

  sat down with the first course of the meal, strawberry and watercress salad, which was followed

  up by fusilli with eggplant and smoked mozzarella, procuitto-wrapped grilled asparagus, and

  Cornish hens marinated in tequila. Riley had to admit the food prepared by Marge was miles

  away from her mother’s meatloaf and lumpy mashed potatoes. Out of the corner of her eye, she

  saw that Heron seemed a bit surprised and impressed by the elegant meal. She suspected that he

  had been prepared to put up with a fare that was much more inferior.

  It was Lawrence’s turn to make the guest feel welcome and included in the family fold. “I

  understand, Heron, that you own a law firm in San Francisco. You chose not to go into your

  family business?”

  Heron answered, “I run a corporate law practice in the city. I am the general counsel for

  my family’s business, though. I expect my younger brother will be groomed for heading the

  family business.”

  Caroline slid her eyes over at her oldest daughter. “Oh, you have a brother. Roberta did

  not mention him.”

  “He’s just finishing his MBA in Harvard. He’ll be joining the firm a month after he

  graduates.”

  Riley grudgingly gave him a point as she heard the underlying pride and a hint of

  affection in Heron’s voice as he talked about his brother.

  “Sometimes Heron has the craziest cases,” Roberta said. “Darling, tell them about the one

  where the two brothers are suing the previous owner of this Victorian house that they bought for

  a nightclub but they claim is haunted.”

  “Is it really haunted?” Caroline asked in a conspiratorial whisper.

  Heron gave a cynical smile. “No, I don’t really think it is. I suspect the two brothers are

  doing this to build up the publicity for their club.”

  “Riley owns a nightclub,” Roberta proudly proclaimed.

  Heron flicked a brief glance at Riley with barely concealed disinterest. “That’s nice.” “She’s owned it for over four years, and it’s already turning a profit, isn’t it, Riley? It’s a

  very popular place. In a short amount of time, it’s built up quite a reputation around the Bay

  Area. Because it’s different from most other nightclubs.”

  Heron flicked his eyes at Riley again. “How so?”

  Riley tried to waylay her sister, feeling she did not want her family discussing her

  nightclub in front of Heron. “Roberta, I don’t think your guest wants to hear about it…” “Of course he does. You’re my sister. Besides, it’s a very innovative nightclub. You

  might say it’s the cutting edge in evening entertainment.”

  “How so?” Heron asked politely.

  “You might say it’s a cross between a sex club and a nightclub.”

  Heron’s hand that was holding his wine stilled. “A sex club?”

  “It’s not a sex club, per se, Mr. Wait,” Riley explained coolly. “It just utilizes some

  aspects of a sex club.”

  “And what would those aspects be?”

  Riley was damned if she were going to explain her club to a perfect stranger, a stranger

  who was ready to show his high-brow disapproval. “Well, if you’re really interested, you can

  come by, sometime.”

  “And what would I see? Topless dancing. Lap dances?”

  Roberta gave a laugh. “It’s nothing as sordid as that, darling. Riley’s club is like any

  other bar club, not some seedy girlie show. But it emphasizes sex more than a typical club. On

  some nights, it’s BDSM theme, and all the employees wear these outrages outfits that a BDSM

  would. And the guests can come in wearing their own outfit. But no one is allowed to have sex

  or force or harass another guest or the employees.” Roberta giggled. “I went to one of those

  nights, one time, but I was too chicken to dress up.”

  Heron looked from one parent to the other, then to Roberta, then to her parents, and was

  amazed to see only pride and humor on their faces. “It doesn’t bother you that your daughter runs

  such an establishment?”

  Lawrence shrugged. “We don’t really have a choice there, do we, son? And my wife and

  I don’t really see the harm in it. It’s perfectly legal, and there is no prostitution.” Caroline chimed in, “And like my daughter was saying, it’s not the vulgar establishment

  of those girlie shows. It is a place where people can explore their sexuality openly and yet with a sense of security and respectability. We were doubtful at first that Riley might have a go at it, but

  it’s been quite successful since opening night. Our Riley has always been very clever.” “And there is a gallery room where they display all these sex toys,” Roberta said. Heron almost choked on a mouthful of Cornish meat. “Sex toys? They offer sex toys in

  the club?”

  “Well, what’s a sex club without toys,” Roberta said in a reasonable tone. “So, sex does happen in the club,” Heron said, casting a cold glance at Riley. Riley clicked her tongue. “Oh, Roberta, I’m afraid we have to come clean. Your guest is

  about to go into fits, imagining all these sordid transactions going on at the club. Actually, Mr.

  Wait, there are two parts to my club. One is the bar and dance club downstairs. The upstairs is

  where the actual sex club is. It consists of a gallery room that display various apparatus, or toys,

  combined with a lounge where people may sit and discuss…well, whatever they want, ruminate

  on the possibilities of the toys, the nature of sex, the weather, or Nietzsche. Every once in awhile,

  I commission a pleasure party up there, private invitation only, to discuss and demonstrate on the

  toys. Upstairs, I also have a se
ries of private rooms. By appointment, people can indulge in their

  fantasies. Each room is fitted for various fantasies and scenarios.”

  Heron asked in precise tone, “What do you mean by fitted?”

  “Oh, whatever your sexual fantasies are, you can act them out in the room that fits that

  description. If you’re into S and M, we have about three rooms. May be a man has a fantasy

  about farm girls, you know like the ones they have on Hee Haw or Petticoat Junction. A woman

  likes to be spanked, or likes to spank men. Or a couple might find it interesting to change gender

  roles. If you have a fantasy that a room isn’t set up for, we might be able to accommodate you.

  As long as it’s legal.”

  “Is any of it legal?” Heron asked coolly.

  “It is, as long as there isn’t any trafficking of sex.”

  Roberta put a hand on Heron’s arm, meant to be reassuring. “Darling, what Riley’s doing

  is all legal and above board.” She giggled. “There’s even one room where people can have a

  threesome, if they want.” Her smile quickly faded and she looked a little confused when Heron

  refused to be amused but continued to look coldly severe.

  He said, “ There can be so much that can go wrong when you allow the public exposure

  to various sexual situations. Especially when you make a living out of it.”

  Riley rested her arms on the table and leaned in, her eyes gleaming with challenge.

  “Surely you as a lawyer, most of all, would understand the subtle but very legal difference

  between trading sex for money and charging people to rent an environment that allows them to

  explore their sexuality.”

  Heron’s dark eyes bore into Riley’s, and it seemed the two forgot the other three. He

  suggested in deceptively mild tone that lawyers often use in courtroom, “Why don’t you pretend

  you’re on the witness stand defending your business.”

  For a moment, Riley was about to tell him to go to hell, but she just remembered her

  sister and parents sitting nearby, and that he was Roberta’s suitor. “All right, I guess I’ll humor

  you, just this once. People who are interested in the sex club have to buy a subscription. Once

  they sign up, we do a thorough background check, to make sure we weed out anyone with a

  criminal record. They also have to fill out a twenty page questionnaire that evaluates their

  personality and psychological state of mind, so that we can further weed out anyone who has the

  potential to be violent, manipulative, a pedophile, or a rapist. I will admit that with the criminal

  checks and the psychological evaluation, we weed out close to a third of the applicants. For those

  who are allowed into the club, we have strict rules about conduct, sexual or otherwise. And

  everyone only has one chance. One time anyone steps past the line, they are out. And there is no

  appeal. Out of the members, about five percent end up being booted out of the club.” She gave a

  faint smile, with an infinitissimal narrowing of her eyes. “How did I do, Counselor?” Heron picked up his fork and pitched it into the slice of double chocolate mud pie. “I’d

  say you have it down pat. It’s a good thing you know that when it comes to the law, it’s good to

  be prepared. And I have to add that you are very lucky that you have such an understanding and

  supportive family. Not a lot of family would know what to do with your line of living.” Meaning you, Riley thought acidly. But she kept silent and schooled her features to

  appear pleasant and calm, because she was seeing some uneasiness in her parents’ and sister’s

  eyes as they began to realize the tension between her and Heron.

  Afterwards, Roberta took her sister aside while their parents corralled Heron outside to

  show off their garden.

  “So, what do you think about him?” Roberta asked again, anxiously.

  Riley stared at her for a moment, thinking over carefully her words. “He’s very

  attractive.”

  “And?”

  “Right now, that’s all. I just met him, Robbie.”

  Roberta’s face looked crestfallen. “You don’t like him.”

  “No, it’s not that I don’t like him. It’s just…He has certain opinions, doesn’t he?” “I’m afraid that’s because he’s awfully smart. Like you.”

  “Well, you’re no slouch yourself.”

  “But, I don’t know what he’s really doing with me.”

  “Have you looked in the mirror, lately?”

  “But he can have his pick of any women. When I’m out with him, sometimes I have to

  pinch myself, because I can’t quite believe that Heron Wait is with me. It’s even worse when he

  takes me out to these really fancy restaurants and events with his friends and acquaintances.

  They are all so sophisticated, and so worldly. I feel like a country bumpkin. I sit there and just

  smile. At times, I can’t help but feel like an idiot.”

  “Honey, you are just as good as they are. And you don’t need to feel like Heron is doing

  you a favor because he happens to be taking an interest in you. You deserve the best that a man

  can give you.”

  Roberta paused, then gave a girlish giggle. “He is a bit straight laced, isn’t he?” “Another name for that is prig.”

  “You just don’t know him, Riles. I’m sure that once you do, you will come to like him. –I

  think he might ask me to marry him.”

  Riley looked shocked. “We’ve only known each other a month…”

  “A little over two months, actually.”

  “How do you know this?”

  “I don’t know. The way he looks at me lately, as if he’s…I don’t know, sort of satisfied

  with what he sees. He sometimes talks about us as in the future. –What do you think about that

  church at Bodega Bay for the wedding, you know, where Mom and Dad got married?” Riley laughed. “Then you are serious, aren’t you? Mom will love it. She’s always wanted

  to see one of us married there. But, won’t it be too small?”

  “It will hold about a hundred guests. I want to have a small wedding, with only our close

  friends and family. And I was thinking about having the wedding in September. It’s just right to

  have a wedding out at the beach during September or October. That’s when it is Indian summer, and when we can be sure that it’s clear and warm out at the beach, instead of windy or foggy.

  How do you think Mom will feel if I wore her wedding her dress?”

  “She’ll start crying, and probably won’t stop until you and Heron drive off to your

  honeymoon.”

  Later that night, while Heron was driving Roberta back to her place in the city, he

  brought up Riley.

  “This club that your sister owns, have you gone there when you went out at nights?” His

  voice was casual, almost friendly, as a very skilled lawyer’s voice would be while crossing a

  potentially hostile witness.

  “Sure. I’ve gone there a few times. It’s a fun place.”

  “Have you gone upstairs?”

  Roberta gave a laugh. “No. I’m too chicken to.”

  “But, you don’t see anything wrong with it?”

  “The sex club and the rooms? No. Why should I ?”

  When Heron did not answer, Roberta looked over at him. “Is it something I should be

  concerned about, Heron?”

  “It’s not exactly your everyday choice of career.”

  “Riley makes most of her money from the bar. The upstairs rooms and the sex club are

  side businesses that kind of grew out of a jo
ke. She had all this real estate in the building and she

  didn’t quite know what to do with it. One of her friends suggested that she throw a pleasure

  party, and have the rooms be like areas where the women can try out the merchandise in private.

  The parties became popular, and then turned into where couples could try out stuff. And she

  formed a club, because all these people, couples mostly, were coming up to her, saying that they

  needed an environment where they could explore their sexual fantasies.”

  “Does she take part in her business?”

  “Strangely, enough, I don’t think so. She keeps it strictly business.” Roberta looked at

  him more closely. “Why? Are you uncomfortable with what my sister does?”

  He didn’t answer for a moment. “Would it matter if I were?”

  “No. I think it’s kind of neat what my sister does. It’s safe and legal, and it seems to make

  a lot of people happy. I hope you get used to the idea. My sister is one of the most important

  person in my life. It’s important that you like her.”

  Heron reached for her hand and brought it to his lips. “I’m sorry, darling. Of course, I’ll

  like her, once I get to know her better.”

  Later that night, Riley arrived at her club around ten o’clock, not in a particularly good

  mood. Being Sunday night, the crowd was light.

  “Hi, boss,” Joe Monterey waved at her from behind the bar.

  She stopped and tossed him a glowering look. “Why do you men have to exist, at all?” Joe stopped wiping down the bar top. “Whoa. What brought that on? You’ve not been in

  a hating-men jag since you went out with that stockbroker.”

  “I just met my sister’s new beau. What a pompous, self-righteous windbag. He’s the type

  of man who thinks woman should do nothing but stay at home, waiting for them to come home,

  and when they do, the woman should spend all evening adoring him.”

  “Well, at the risk of ruining your sour mood tonight, I have to tell you that there’s

  someone here who’s been waiting for you. It’s that developer guy who’s been calling you

  lately.”

  “Oh, god, him. Couldn’t you have told me that I wasn’t going to be in tonight, or

  something.”

  “I tried, but he insisted that he hang around. He’s over there.” Joe gestured to the far end