Although I absolutely had no complaints about our sex life—considering I’d had more and better in the last few weeks than I’d had—well ever—I did feel an urge to be more adventurous. Maybe more Kat-like by taking charge for once. The thought gave me an idea of a way to greet him when I opened my front door this evening. Maybe in nothing at all.
An hour later, I’d put the finishing touches on my bedroom, having set out candles and massage oil for Will’s surprise, when his text message came in. Checking the time, I realized he was about to start his shift. He’d probably already scarfed down dinner and done his laundry, his typical routine for Fridays.
“I have an audition with Claus von Loch tomorrow.”
I was about to type congratulations when his next message came in.
“But you probably already knew that considering he mentioned he spoke with you today. I’m not sure what part of ‘I don’t want any favors’ wasn’t clear. I’ll take a raincheck on tonight.”
I sat there for a moment, staring at my phone in disbelief. I immediately dialed to speak to him, but after one ring, he sent it to voicemail.
I started to type out a text message to explain but then erased it, pissed off that I had to defend myself in the first place. Why should I feel guilty when I’d told Claus to speak with Bart for an unbiased opinion? Plus, even if I had gotten involved directly, reputation and who you knew was a vital part of this business. For example, if I hadn’t been doing Haylee a favor years ago, I wouldn’t have interviewed Will and landed him on the cover of Cosmo Life, which in turn had got Calvin Klein to sign him.
If he wasn’t coming over tonight, that meant I wouldn’t see him until tomorrow night at the party. And then what? Hope we could hash it out over a weekend amongst friends? Ugh. And of course, as fate would have it, he was flying out from there to Miami for a week-long shoot.
I wasn’t much on arguing, period, but I especially hated an disagreement via text. In my opinion, this was nothing but a way of miscommunicating your feelings while misinterpreting what was said in return. No, thanks. This discussion needed to be face to face.
After pacing for an eternity, I pulled out the magic eight ball from my bedside drawer. I’d known from the first night I’d gone to Club T that they rented rooms by the hour for couples since Brian had surprised Sasha there. If I got a room, not only would it allow me to apologize in person, but it could also fulfill my desire to become more adventurous when it came to sex. The thought of him sneaking into my room and me taking charge gave me confidence in my decision, but because I was a big ole chicken, I consulted the ball.
“Should I go to Club Travesty tonight?”
‘My reply is no’
Stupid ball. Wasn’t it aware I just needed it to agree with me and override my rational thoughts? I shook it again. It took three times, but I finally got the answer I’d wanted. ‘Yes’.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
It seemed strange to return to Club Travesty after all these weeks considering so much had happened between the first time I’d met Calvin and now.
When I arrived this time, instead of being greeted by my concierge as in my previous visits, I was ushered to another part of the club. This was more like a hotel check-in where they handed me a key. I guess this was the difference between renting a room and paying for any type of service. As part of the package, I was offered a choice of goodie bags. Thinking it a sign regarding my earlier thoughts, I bought the Takin’ it up a Notch bag. Honestly, I wasn’t sure what it entailed, but it certainly sounded interesting. Of course, I had to remind myself that my first priority was to speak to Will about the model shoot and Claus. Then after….well, maybe we’d be taking it up a notch.
Rolling my eyes at myself, or at Kat, if you will—unfortunately my only way into the private club had been to use my previous alias—I smoothed my wig and was shown to the room I’d rented for the next few hours. Oh, God. That thought alone left an anxious feeling in my stomach.
I, Catherine Davenport, queen of all things proper, who’d never done anything remotely scandalous, had rented a room by the hour. Insanity had to be the reason I was suddenly in a fit of giggles when the door closed and I surveyed the small room. Either that or I’d experienced a surge in sexual confidence attributable to a certain gorgeous Aussie.
For a sex room or, as they officially called it, ‘a couple’s suite,’ it was classy, with a lush carpet and hues of purple and black. The chandelier with dim lighting in the middle of the room hung over the centerpiece, a small bed. I stepped closer with my heart racing. The bed was essentially more of a table, with various types of restraints on either end as well as the sides.
Checking my watch, I sighed at the fact it would be at least two hours before Will finished with his last appointment and would be able to join me. I’d arrived early to make sure he’d receive the text in plenty of time. I could only imagine his face when he read that I was here in room two-nineteen waiting.
I crossed over to the small table next to the bed and bit my lip as I studied the things included in the goodie basket. Evidently, the ‘taking it up a notch’ staples included a blindfold, a couple different battery-operated devices, and two bottles of what I guessed was lube. The one with the strawberries on it caught my interest first. I wondered if it smelled or tasted like the berry, or maybe both.
Knowing I had plenty of time to find out, I slid my thumb under the seal and tried to uncap the bottle, but it wasn’t budging. As I attempted to add more force, the sound of the door shutting behind me made me jump, resulting in me squeezing the tube too hard and squirting strawberry-smelling lube all over the front of my black Zac Posen dress.
Absolutely freaking perfect.
Turning, I put a hand to my chest and saw that it was Will, or Calvin, since he had his mask on. “Holy crap, you scared me. I thought you weren’t off for another couple of hours, and I was positive I’d locked the door.” I removed my hand, now coated in the same lube which was sliding down the length of my dress and glopping onto the floor.
Will crossed the room, taking in the scene with a heavy dose of bewilderment bordering on amusement when he realized what I was covered in. “I have a master key and one client cancel. What the hell happened?”
He handed me a towel, which I used to get the goop off of my hands and dress the best I could. “Would you believe I was attacked by a bottle of strawberry lube?”
I’d thought it was funny, but Will didn’t even crack a smile.
“I’ll finish cleaning it up, but you need to go.”
My eyes went wide at his abrupt dismissal, not believing I’d heard him correctly. “You mean, leave?”
“Yes. Look, I don’t have time to explain it, but you can’t be here. I can’t believe you’d waste your money like this.”
Was that why he was so upset? “I wanted to clear up the misunderstanding about Claus, and since you wouldn’t accept my call—”
“You paid cash, right?”
“Yes, of course. I want to start by explaining the Claus phone call—”
“We can talk about it later.” I could see his patience running thin. Agitation was practically rolling off of him in waves as he took my arm and led me to the door. “I just need you to go home. Right now. Got it?”
I bristled at his tone. “You’re spelling it out pretty clearly, so yes, I have it.”
And with all the dignity I could muster, smelling like the strawberry lubricant still spotting my dress, I turned on my heel and did the walk of rejection all the way out the back door to where Sherman was mercifully parked curbside.
***
Will texted me within minutes of my getting into the car.
“I’ll come by later and we’ll talk. Okay?”
“Please don’t,” I responded.
With the one-hundred-eighty degree turn he’d given me, I remained in shock, unable to process any emotion. I’d thought it might be a fun surprise and a nice way of making up after I explained his assumption had be
en wrong. But evidently, he was still angry and not even willing to listen to what I had to say. It wasn’t like going to the club tonight had been a comfortable gesture on my part. I’d done it because I’d wanted to ensure we didn’t go into the weekend with unresolved issues. Plus, I’d wanted to maybe show him I wasn’t afraid to try new things. A fat lot of good that had done me.
After saying goodnight to Sherman and ripping off my mask and wig, I went up to my condo and promptly threw both items in the trash. Never again would I return to Club T. I slipped off my shoes and then my dress, putting some stain remover on the latter in hopes the spots would come out.
Note to self: do an article in a future edition of my magazine on the best stain removers for everything, including lube. Glad something could come out of this night that was useful.
Heaving a big sigh, I glanced at my phone where I saw no reply from Will, not that I’d expected one. I then climbed into bed, not bothering to remove the red lingerie I’d worn under my dress or put away the candles I’d set out earlier. What I needed was a reset button for tomorrow. The best way to get there was to fall asleep and be done with today.
I was woken from a deep sleep by a knocking on my door which was getting increasingly louder and my cell phone buzzing. Glancing at the clock, I noted that it was well after midnight. I went to the door without bothering to put on a robe. When I peered out the peephole, I saw Will standing there with a damn pizza. Opening it a couple inches, I decided to be candid.
“I’m really not in the mood to speak with you this late.”
“Open up, Cath,” he beseeched, looking tired.
“Go home, Will. The last thing I need is you here feeling guilty.”
“What did I tell you about making assumptions?”
I quirked a brow. “I can’t remember since you can’t seem to follow your own advice.”
He had the decency to blush. “I know, and I’m sorry. Now, can you please let me in so I’m not forced to eat this pizza in your hallway with your neighbors eavesdropping on my apology?”
I could picture him doing exactly that, so I swung the door open, letting him pass by.
His eyes did a slow perusal of my red lingerie and, by the time they reached mine, were full of heat.
“I’m going to throw on a robe.” I only got one step before he snagged my hand, set the pizza on the counter and pulled me to him.
He breathed in my scent, skimming his hands down my back. “I’m so sorry about tonight, and there’s a lot I need to say to you, but for the moment, I just want to hold you.”
My entire body released the tension I’d been carrying, and I wrapped around him, needing to be held. We stood like that for a few minutes. Instead of the anxiousness I’d normally feel to rush into talking, explaining, or sharing my side with him, I was content to simply stand there in the moment.
“Come on. Let’s talk.” He led me down the hall and quickly stripped down to his boxers in my bedroom. He then sat on the bed and patted the space beside him where I ended up taking a seat.
“Are you purposefully trying to distract me by being half naked?” Because a magnificent distraction it was.
He chuckled, giving me another once-over. “It’s only fair, considering what you’re wearing.” He leaned in and cupped my face. “I should’ve asked instead of jumping to conclusions about Claus when he’d said he’d spoken to you about me.”
“I did speak with him. He called me in the office, and we have a longstanding professional relationship. But when he asked about you, I told him I was biased because you were a friend of a friend and referred him to talk to Bart Chesley. I knew you wouldn’t appreciate me telling him he’d be crazy not to sign you. I’d hoped to explain that to you in person tonight instead of waiting into the weekend when we were around our friends.”
He took both of my hands and sounded sincere in his apology. “I’m sorry. For the text message where I was pissy, for not taking your call, and to my reaction to you being at Club T tonight. The more I started to think about it, the more I realized I was jumping to conclusions and had planned to come by later to apologize.”
“If you’d started to realize that, why were you so angry with me when you saw me at the club?”
“Because you checked in as Kat, my former client.”
He waited a beat as if something should’ve dawned on me. “It’s not like I could’ve given them my real name or gotten in tonight with a new one. It takes at least a week for a membership.”
He sighed. “I realize that, but after checking in as Kat, you then rented a room and sent me a text to come meet you. Yes, it was on my personal phone, but there are cameras everywhere, so there was no way they wouldn’t have seen me go into your room. In the club’s eyes, I had a client trying to pay me for sex off the books.”
My face must’ve shown my astonishment. “Wait. What?”
He turned pink with the next admission. “I’m embarrassed to say it’s not the first time. Some of my clients don’t like the fact I won’t do the physical stuff, so I get propositioned. In a couple cases, they’ve rented rooms and hoped I’ll join them.”
I had no words as no part of me had even considered this possible construction.
“And the thing is the management at the club has been pushing—well, not really pushing but strongly suggesting—I take it up a level during the last year because my clientele keeps requesting it. I’ve refused, not wanting to cross that line. That’s why tonight I needed for them to see me enter the room and you leave right away so they’d know I’d turned you down.”
“Holy fucking fuck.”
His eyes got big and he grinned. “I never thought I’d ever hear those words from your pretty mouth. If I’d been thinking straight, I would’ve simply sent you a text explaining it all instead of barging into your room. Instead, I reacted because I couldn’t believe you were actually there. It’s like I had to see for myself.”
“I didn’t—I mean I wouldn’t have—” In a million years I couldn’t believe I’d been that stupid.
“I know, and I didn’t handle it well, but between getting your text and then seeing you with lube all over your chest, I wasn’t firing on all cylinders. Plus, I don’t want anyone to ever associate you with Club Travesty. That could be devastating to your career. So I panicked and was a dick. I’m sorry.”
“I should be the one apologizing for not realizing. Clueless Catherine certainly outdid herself this time around. And now I’m sitting here jealous over these women, which I know is stupid. Plus I’m even more irritated to hear people are pushing you to have sex for money.”
He kissed the inside of my wrist. “You weren’t clueless, just not thinking about it from that perspective. As far as the club is concerned, it’s all about money to them. If I did more services, they could charge more.”
“And you would make more, which sucks. Is it tempting?” I’d wondered since meeting him as Calvin if it was a moral objection or something else.
He sighed heavily. “Earning more money always is tempting, but I promised myself a long time ago I wouldn’t go down that rabbit hole. I’m not judging the people who choose to have sex for money, but it absolutely doesn’t work for me.”
“I’m so sorry I put you in that position tonight.”
“If I hadn’t sent you a shitty text message full of assumptions or I’d picked up the phone when you called me, none of it would’ve happened.”
True, and it felt good to hear him acknowledge that, but there was something else which needed to be discussed. “In this business, people ask me almost daily for recommendations. They know you were in my magazine, and I gave you a glowing endorsement for Calvin Klein in the past, not to mention others, so—”
“That was different.”
“How? My opinion on your work ethic is the same.”
“I don’t want the favor.”
“From me,” I finished, watching his frustration mount.
“It’s not personal.”
> “It feels personal, but more than that, it feels like something that won’t ever change.”
Although we were talking about professional favors, it was the personal side which started to sink in. While it was true that Will was not the type of man who’d ever use me for my money or resent my career or success, would I ever be able to have a future with him? Would his pride ever allow me to pay for a vacation, gifts, or anything regarding money? And since it was in my nature to be generous with people I cared about, how would that work? But the most important question I had burning in my mind was why it was so important to him to do everything on his own.
“Would you want a man who used you for your money or to get ahead in his career?”
“Of course not, but it’s obvious you’re not that guy.”
“You’re right, I’m not.”
“But if we both know that, why are you so adamant against accepting any help? Are you afraid of what other people might say or think?”
He shook his head. “I worry about someone linking you to me and then to a sex club and what it could potentially do to your career.”
“No offense, but that’s my choice to make. I was the one who took that risk when I showed up as Kat the first time. My only regret about it is the kind of position I put you in tonight.”
“It’s not like it’s a job I love. If this Claus thing works out tomorrow with the audition and I can get some more steady modelling work, I could finally quit. At least that’s what I want. Especially now.” His eyes were laser focused on mine. The implication that he desired a future away from the club, with me in it, appeared to make him nervous.
I didn’t hesitate with my response. Maybe after he stepped away from it and was more secure in a modelling career, his pride over accepting help would become a moot point. “I want that, too. A lot.”
His smile lit up the room before he reached for me. “You still smell like strawberry.”
“That little bottle kicked my ass.”
He threw his head back and laughed. “Mm, so were you trying to tell me something by ordering the ‘take it up a notch’ goodie bag?”
Teach Me Something (Something Series Book 4) Page 21