Club Privé: Book III
They were all pretty – I doubted Howard would ever deign to be seen with anyone less than attractive – but they weren’t actresses, models, musicians, or even those celebrities who are famous for nothing but being famous.
By Wednesday morning, I’d exhausted every resource at my disposal. All but two, and I really didn’t want to do the last one. After I’d settled in for the morning, I placed the first – and what I hoped would be the last – call. Howard’s personal assistant, Annie, answered on the second ring.
“Hello, this is Carrie Summers from Webster and Steinberg.” I kept my voice light and professional. It sounded fake to me, but I was working on making it better. “My boss, Ms. Styles, has me working on background information on the women who have attended various events with Mr. Weiss.”
I didn’t know if Annie understood the implication of what I was asking, but I hoped she didn’t. Knowing someone was checking up on your boss’s sex life could make things very awkward.
“I’m sorry, Ms. Summers, but I don’t have access to that information.” Annie sounded almost bored. “Mr. Weiss doesn’t provide me with the names of his dates, only instructs me to RSVP either for just him or with a plus one.”
“Okay.” I was disappointed. “Thank you anyway.”
“Have a good day.”
I frowned as I hung up. It seemed like the only way I was going to get these women’s names would be to ask Howard himself. I didn’t want to have that conversation. Aside from the fact that it would be uncomfortable to ask him about his dates when I knew he’d understand exactly why I was asking, it would probably make all future interactions just as awkward, and since I was with Gavin, I had a feeling I’d be seeing plenty of Howard.
Then there was the whole flirting thing. I wasn’t sure how he’d take me asking about those women. What if he thought I was asking because I wanted to know for personal reasons? I could see him thinking I was trying to find out about any competition. Gavin might believe that Howard was only a charmer who behaved that way towards all women, but that wasn’t the vibe I got off of Howard. I couldn’t put my finger on it or provide any type of proof or evidence, which was why I hadn’t said anything to Gavin, but something about Howard just didn’t sit right with me. I kept getting the feeling that there was something below that veneer surface that was far less attractive.
I decided to put off calling Howard. There were a handful of other places I could look for information. They weren’t exactly reliable, but they did give me an excuse not to make that phone call. Besides, who knew what I could find? If nothing else, maybe they could lead me to another trail.
About two hours later, I was starting to go cross-eyed from all of the tiny print I was reading on my computer, and so I almost missed it: an article that mentioned Howard Weiss. It wasn’t until I pulled it up and began to read that I realized it wasn’t an entertainment piece. Instead, it was a biographical article, one where Howard’s family history had been traced. Even though it didn’t have anything to do with what I was looking for, I kept reading. If I had to call him, at least I would have a bit more background information.
The more I read, the bigger my eyes got. Howard’s New York City roots were deeper than I’d realized. His family had been in the city since before the turn of the century, and I wasn’t referring to the recent one. Things were fairly unremarkable until the nineteen twenties, when Howard’s great-grandfather, Josiah, rose to power in the Jewish mafia. There were links to Josiah Weiss, so I followed them. He had been ruthless, cold, and calculating. A dozen murders were attributed to him directly, but none were ever brought to trial because witnesses kept disappearing. Some places had the body count as high as fifty or sixty for hits he’d ordered. Three were judges and more than a dozen were cops. Then there were all of the shady industries. Of course, it being Prohibition and all, he’d made a fortune running booze, but he hadn’t stopped there. Josiah had his fingers in everything. Police corruption. Blackmail. Shaking down business owners. Prostitution. Gambling. It seemed like the only thing he didn’t do was sell drugs.
When I’d finished, I sat back in my seat, trying to absorb everything I’d just read. It shouldn’t have made a difference, I knew. The Jewish mafia was all but extinct, and just because Josiah Weiss had been a part of it didn’t mean Howard had anything to do with that part of his family history. Then again, a lot of those mafia types had an “it’s a family business and blood is thicker than water” mentality. If the business practices had been passed down from generation to generation, there was no telling what Howard had done to acquire his fortune. Or to what lengths he would be willing to go to keep it.
Chapter 5
When I came back from lunch, a package was sitting on my desk, and on top of it, a single red rose. I smiled as I picked up the flower. I wasn’t going to throw this one away. I held it up to my nose and breathed in the unique scent. No matter how close chemistry got to duplicating the smell of roses, there would always be something different about the real thing.
“Is that from Gavin?”
I looked over to see Leslie grinning at me. Flirtatious and drop-dead gorgeous, Leslie had taken Gavin’s number when I’d tried to throw it away. She never had told me if she’d tried to call him.
“I’m seeing him tonight.” I set aside the flower and picked up the card.
Leslie grinned at me, her bright green eyes sparkling. I knew she wouldn’t begrudge me Gavin even though I’d originally said I didn’t want him. Leslie never lacked for male attention. Between the lustrous red curls and curvy body, she and Krissy rivaled each other in how many men they’d been with over the years.
“What’s in the box?” she asked.
I didn’t know, but I had a good idea. The last time I’d gotten a box like this, it had contained the most beautiful Prada dress I’d ever seen. I opened the card and read it silently.
Please wear this when I see you today, and no, this is not your gift. - G
Curiosity piqued, I set the card aside and opened the box. As I peeled back the tissue paper, my jaw dropped. There was clothing in the box all right, but nothing even close to what I’d expected. It was lingerie.
Leslie whistled. “Damn. He’s got good taste.”
I couldn’t nod. My cheeks were burning. It was absolutely beautiful. I’d never worn anything like it, and not just because it had probably cost more than I spent on my entire wardrobe in a month. I like pretty underwear, but I’d always kept it simple. My fanciest pieces were black lace. Nothing sheer or with peek-a-boo panels or anything like that. I’d never thought I was ugly, but I’d also never had the guts to try wearing anything like what was in that box. Tonight, however, I would. For him.
“You’ve been pretty tight-lipped about the whole Gavin thing,” Leslie observed. “Krissy told me last night that you really seem to like this guy. That true?”
Leave it to Leslie to be that direct.
I took a slow, deep breath and raised my head to meet her gaze. “I do.”
Leslie grinned. “Good for you.” She started back towards her desk, then paused and looked over her shoulder at me. “I hope he’s as good in the sack as he looks.”
“He’s better.” The words popped out of my mouth before I could think about them and I almost clapped a hand over my mouth.
I wasn’t sure who looked more shocked, me or Leslie. Whichever one it was, she recovered first.
“Looks like he’s really loosening you up.” She winked at me. “Careful. You’ll end up like me if you don’t watch out.”
She didn’t wait for a response, which was good. I wasn’t sure how long it was going to take me to get over my mortification enough to speak. As it was, it took me nearly a full minute to be able to move again. I carefully folded the tissue paper back down and put the lid back on the box before setting it aside.
I sank into my chair. I needed to focus. I couldn’t think about that or about why Gavin would want me to wear it. I still had half a day’s worth of work to do.
That turned out to be easier said than done.
It was difficult to sort through all of Howard’s women to make a list of all the ones who were known and cleared, then compile pictures of the ones who were, as of yet, still unidentified. Not the work itself, mind you, more like trying to pay attention to the details while my eyes kept being drawn back to that box sitting on the edge of my desk. I kept imagining what it would be like to feel that soft silk on my skin, how it was going to feel riding in a cab knowing what I was wearing beneath my skirt and blouse. Most of all, I tried to picture what Gavin’s reaction would be when he saw me in it.
Somehow, despite my distractions, I managed to get my list made with fifteen minutes to spare. I was smiling as I printed out the papers. I was putting them into a folder when I heard my name.
“Carrie.”
I looked up to see Mimi standing in front of my desk. She held out a stack of papers. I took them automatically.
“These notes need to be sorted and put into chronological order by first thing tomorrow morning. They’re essential to a meeting, so they’re your top priority.”
She turned and walked away. It was no surprise that she didn’t bother to ask if I had plans for the night. No partner would ask a paralegal that, especially not a paralegal who was working her way through law school. We did the scut work because that was how everyone paid their dues. Being Mimi’s assistant just meant that it was her scut work I did rather than that of random associates. That also meant that when she needed me to stay late, I stayed late.
I spread the notes out on my desk and sighed in frustration. Every one of them had Mimi’s barely legible handwriting and not a single one contained a date. The only way I was going to be able to tell chronological order would be to read them and put them together like a puzzle. It was going to take an hour at the very least.
I began to work, using a highlighter to mark relevant portions that I could connect to other pieces. At least, that’s what I was trying to do. More than once, however, I found myself reading the same sentence over and over again.
“See you tomorrow,” Leslie said as she passed. She grinned at me. “Unless you’re too worn out.”
I rolled my eyes and managed not to blush. I tried to refocus, hoping I could quickly finish. Instead, my gaze kept sliding over to my phone, wondering if I should just call Gavin and tell him I was going to be late. But what if he decided it’d be too much of a hassle to wait? I had given him my word that I’d be there shortly after five. I was obliged to keep it. Besides, it wasn’t like I was getting much work done anyway.
I knew I was trying to talk myself into leaving without finishing the work, but I didn’t care. I wanted to see Gavin, and my mind wasn’t in the work anyway.
I picked up the stack of papers and put them into my desk drawer so they wouldn’t get lost. I’d come in early tomorrow and finish before Mimi even got in. She hadn’t specifically told me to stay after, so as long as I had everything done by the time she needed it, there wouldn’t be any problem.
The office was mostly empty by the time I picked up the box and headed into the restroom. A couple associates and paralegals were scattered around, and I spotted at least one partner, but none of them paid me any attention as I carried the box into the bathroom. I went into the big stall at the end, a smile playing around my lips as I thought about what had happened the last time I’d entered the large stall in a restroom. Fortunately, this time, it was empty. I quickly undressed and folded the bra and panties I’d worn, putting them in the box. I pulled on the lingerie, my heart pounding as I did so. The color was the same rich red of the dress Gavin had given me for the gala, and as it had done then, it looked amazing against my skin. I wanted to see myself in it before I revealed it to Gavin.
“Hello?” I called softly. My voice echoed off the tile walls, but no one answered. I opened the door a crack and peered out. It was empty. I didn’t need to actually walk out. I was across from the mirrors so all I had to do was open the door all the way and I’d be able to see what I looked like.
I took a deep breath and stepped out from behind the door. My eyes widened. Wow. I hadn’t known I could look like that in something like this. The entire thing was sheer crimson lace and silk. It was strapless, and the bra hugged my breasts, the low cut showing off quite a bit of creamy flesh. The most startling thing, however, was that I could see the slightly darker circles of my nipples through it, but the effect wasn’t trashy. From the center of the bra, a thin strip of silk ran down my belly, breaking into two halfway down so that it went on either side of my bellybutton before connecting to the top of my panties. They, too, were see-through. Not completely transparent, they hinted at what was beneath without being crass. They were also tinier than anything I’d ever owned. They sat low on my hips, the waistband just above the thin layer of hair that covered my more intimate parts. The back was barely there, a strip of material that was only a fraction wider than a thong. Add to that the black thigh-high stockings I always wore and the heels I hadn’t bothered to take off and, for a moment, I saw myself as sexy. Not cute, not pretty, not even hot, but honest-to-goodness sexy.
I closed the door and put my skirt and blouse back on. As I buttoned up my shirt, I was thankful that I’d worn the dark gray one rather than my usual white. I’d done it because I’d wanted to wear my black underwear to see Gavin, but now it meant that I could wear crimson without exposing myself to everyone.
I carried the box back to my desk and discreetly transferred my panties and bra into my purse before throwing the box away. I didn’t want to have to carry it around. Then, overly conscious of what I was wearing beneath my business clothes, I left the building and headed for the club.
No one even gave me a second glance as I flagged a cab, but I felt like everyone who even glanced at me knew what I was wearing, what I was doing. I kept my eyes focused straight ahead as I climbed into the car. I smiled politely as I gave the cab driver the address and tried not to think about if he knew what the club was. Krissy and Gavin were both right about not being ashamed, but it was often easier said than done.
I paid the driver without making eye contact and started up the sidewalk. Gavin had said to use the side entrance, so I walked down the alley rather than going to the front door. As alleys in the city went, this one was better than most. It was relatively clean, with just a few cigarette butts and condoms scattered in with the usual dust and debris that blew around the streets. It didn’t smell pleasant, but there was none of that cat-pee, garbage, and vomit scent that hung around most alleys.
A few feet down, I spotted a bright red door. Next to it was a buzzer. I pressed the button and heard the faint sound of its signaling behind the door. A minute later, the door opened, filled with the massive bouncer who’d been at the door that first night. I doubted he’d have recognized me even if I hadn’t been dressed completely differently.
“Yes?” He looked puzzled as he gave me a once-over.
“I’m here to see Mr. Manning,” I said. I really hoped I sounded like someone on a professional call rather than the kind of girl who frequented sex clubs. I immediately scolded myself for the thought. It was no wonder I had a hard time not feeling ashamed, thinking things like that.
“Who?” The bouncer crossed his arms over his broad chest. He didn’t exactly look friendly, but he also didn’t look like someone who was going kill me if I answered his question.
“Mr. Manning. The owner.” I supposed it wasn’t too strange that a bouncer didn’t know the owner.
“You’re in the wrong place.” He reached for the door. “There’s no one here by that name.” He gave me another full-body look. “If you’re here about the job, auditions are tomorrow.”
I didn’t need anyone to explain to me what the audition was probably for. He started to close the door and I reached out and grabbed it. I wasn’t sure who was more surprised by my action, me or him. I wasn’t exactly tiny, but I was far from being close to his size. I doubted most men would’ve
tried to push the issue.
“Miss...” There was a warning in the word.
“Wait, please.” I kept my voice calm. “This is Club Privé, right?” He nodded. “And you’re saying that no one named Gavin Manning is here?”
“It’s okay, Lenny. I asked her to come.”
Gavin’s voice came from behind the bouncer, his tone saying that he knew the mountain of a man currently looking down at me. My heart started to pound and my mouth went dry, but none of it was from arousal. What was going on here? Why didn’t Lenny know who Gavin was if Gavin knew Lenny?
The bouncer stepped out of the way and Gavin was suddenly there. He smiled at me as Lenny walked away, shaking his head and muttering something I couldn’t hear. All of my instincts said that something was wrong, that I should leave, but before I could, Gavin reached out and took my hand, pulling me through the doorway into a small corridor.
“I was starting to worry that you’d changed your mind,” he said.