Page 13 of The Player's Club
“Damn, I love this on you,” she said. She turned me to the side. “Look at this juicy booty!” She even squeezed said booty to emphasize her point.
“I look dumpy.” I crossed my arms across my belly. “You look way better in this dress.”
“No way. If we just shorten it a bit—” Hannah raised the hem a few inches. “And voilà. You look stunning.”
I wasn’t sure stunning was the right term, but I also knew Hannah was always honest. If I looked terrible, she’d tell me. I took off the dress so Hannah could put some double-sided tape on the bottom to create a faux hem.
I’d confided in Hannah about everything I’d uncovered about Mac, swearing her to secrecy. When I told her I was going to return to The Scarlet Rope Saturday night, she’d insisted on coming over to figure out what I was going to wear. I hadn’t thought it necessary, but now I was glad she did.
“I just hope I can get more info about him,” I said, pacing across my small living room. “He’s just such a mystery. He’s all over social media, yet it took me days to figure out the most basic information about him. What makes him tick, what drove him to get involved with a place like The Scarlet Rope . . .?”
Hannah raised an eyebrow. “This is all for your story?” she asked, sounding skeptical.
I blinked. “Yeah. Of course. What else would it be for?”
“I don’t know, but you seem especially interested in him.”
I blushed, hating that my skin betrayed me. “He’s my assignment. Of course I’m interested in him.”
Finishing up the hem, Hannah placed the dress on a hanger before hanging it from my mantel. “I’m just saying. It sounds like you’re getting personally involved.”
Now I felt defensive. “I have a boyfriend.”
“Oh yeah. What’s his name again? Rod?”
I threw a pillow at Hannah. “Don’t be annoying. I know what I’m doing.”
“Then again, Mac won’t be there tonight since he has a game in Vancouver.”
“Exactly.” I downed the last of the wine I’d been neglecting. “If this were about me being obsessed with Mac, wouldn’t I want to make sure he was actually going to be at the club?”
After giving the password Mac gave me—Raven Blackwood—I was half expecting to be laughed out of the club. But the bouncer just ushered me inside without another word. Before I was allowed to mingle among the guests like last time, an impeccably dressed woman had me follow her into a room that was well-hidden behind a wall near the entryway.
“This way,” she said, very businesslike. She wasn’t dressed like she was going to enjoy herself at the club. She was dressed almost demurely, but I could tell by the cut of her jacket and the shine of her heels that her outfit was expensive.
“Have a seat.”
I sat across from her in a room that could only be called an office. It was . . . boring. At least compared to the rest of the club. It looked like your average techy office. It was only missing the huge panels of windows overlooking the bay, as in Todd’s office.
The furniture was luxurious but not gaudy. The woman sat at her desk before pushing a stack of documents toward me.
“As I’m sure you’re aware, The Scarlet Rope is all about our patrons’ privacy,” she said. It sounded as if she was going through a script for the millionth time. “That entails going over and signing a contract with the club.”
I started to go through the papers, my gaze catching the phrases NON-DISCLOSURE AGREEMENT and PATRON RULES AND REGULATIONS, among a few others.
“Uh,” I said, feeling overwhelmed, “do I need a lawyer?”
The woman tittered. “You can consult one if you wish, but these are all standard contracts. Basically, keep the knowledge of our existence to yourself and behave appropriately. Meaning, everything—and I mean everything—must be consented to. If someone comes to us to tell us that you violated their boundaries, we’ll investigate and have you out on your ass in a second if you’re proven liable.”
I felt a little ill. Not because I disagreed—but it all felt so . . . intense.
But I’m not really joining. So what did it matter if I signed?
Then again, that NDA made me rethink everything. I’d already told Hannah about The Scarlet Rope. If I wrote about the club in my story about Mac, they could sue me if they wanted to.
I chewed on my lower lip.
“I need to speak with a lawyer first,” I said finally, knowing Roy would strangle me if I signed anything without handing it straight over to legal first.