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“Good enough,” Dimitri says. “I won’t let you down.”
“I know you won’t.”
We spend the rest of lunch getting Dimitri up to speed on some details for the meetings he’ll be taking. He’s well prepared already, which gives me even more faith in my decision.
After lunch, I call my pilot. “Change in plans,” I tell him. “We’re leaving this afternoon.”
“Hold on. I need to check with air traffic control for a takeoff slot. What’s your window?”
“I can be at the airport in an hour and a half. As soon as possible after that.”
“Got it. I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.”
I’m heading to my Manhattan penthouse when I get the text from the pilot.
We’re ready to go at 4 p.m.
Excellent, I text back.
Assuming no delays, I’ll land in Boston by five and be back at my place by six. Enough time to see Skye. I considered sending her a ticket to meet me here in Manhattan, but she wouldn’t be able to get out of work with no notice.
Plus…I’m not sure she’s ready for New York Braden.
In the meantime…
I slide my card through the elevator and descend to the bottom floor of the building.
The Black Rose Underground.
The club is closed during daytime hours, but I want to be here for a few minutes. I want to soak up the atmosphere, try to get my head on straight.
This place is my escape—in more ways than one.
Yes, it’s where I can indulge my darkest fantasies, whatever they may be.
But it’s also an escape from home. From Boston.
Don’t get me wrong. I love Boston. It will always be my home base.
But I don’t allow certain parts of my life in Boston.
Here, at the club, I wear a mask—albeit a metaphorical one. But in some ways, this is the only place where I’m truly myself.
I walk past the vacant bouncer’s desk and into the large common area, where I flip on the lights. The club looks so different without guests, almost as if it’s in some kind of dormant state, waiting to be awakened tonight with members and their fantasies.
I love this place.
More than once I’ve had a woman ask me why I enjoy the darker side of sex, why I enjoy taking such a dominant role.
I never answer. It helps me remain mysterious.
But the truth of the matter is that I don’t know.
Or rather, I do know, but I don’t like to think about the reasons.
The little boy from the food pantry, Benji, slides into my mind once again.
One little boy who shares my brother’s name…and he opened a window in my mind to things I prefer to keep dormant, much like the club is dormant at this hour.
