Movement caught my attention from the corner of my eye, and I sat up straight at the edge of the bar. Dominic walked through the lobby and stood at the end of the bar.
The silence following Dominic’s entrance was heavy, filled with the unspoken tension that always seemed to buzz around forbidden things. His gaze was locked onto Max and me, an unreadable expression etched across his face. Max’s smile faltered, the closeness of our laughter-filled moment now a stark contrast to the stiffness that replaced it.
Dominic’s voice broke through the stillness, his words carrying a weight that anchored me back to reality. “You guys know you shouldn’t fuck, right?” His words weren’t harsh but were tinged with the concern of crossing invisible lines.
“Jesus Christ, Dom!” The protest erupted from me before I could temper it, while Max managed a strangled cough, the sound a perfect echo of the awkwardness now hanging between us.
Dom raised his hands defensively, a clear sign he wanted to ease the tension he’d inadvertently caused. “I’m just saying. This place . . . it can mess with your head, and I don’t want to see you guys getting hurt or making things weird for everyone else. So please, just don’t go there.”
My heart pounded a rhythm of panic and denial. “Oh my god, Dom. He’s your age, for heaven’s sake. I’m not going to fuck him.” The words, meant to sound decisive, came out more like a plea, even to my own ears.
A look passed between the three of us, a silent acknowledgment of the complicated dynamics at play. We lingered in that awkward space, the air thick with the things left unsaid, each of us processing the unexpected interruption to the afternoon’s flow.
Trying to break the tense moment, Max cleared his throat and motioned toward the boxes of wine he had selected for the evening. “I’ll start setting up,” he said, his voice steady but tinged with the effort of regaining composure. “We’ve got a big night ahead of us.” Max busied himself with the wine again, a futile attempt to smother the tension. I could sense the change in his demeanor, the ease we shared moments ago now replaced by a careful distance.
I nodded, my earlier defiance slowly crumbling into contemplation. Was I really as transparent as Dom suggested? With a deep breath, I pushed off the bar and turned my attention to the task at hand, the preparation for the evening’s tasting event—a convenient distraction from the complexities of what lay unspoken between us. It was clear now that whatever was unfolding couldn’t be contained within the walls of the Prism Society, nor could it be as easily dismissed as I had hoped.
FIVE
MAX
“Obviously, I’m not going to fuck him.”
The words Isabella had said earlier played on repeat in my mind as I watched her work. Even as Isabella’s eyes found mine from across the lounge as my eyes scanned the room. Even as she caught me checking her ass out as she bent behind the bar to grab a new tray.
It’s not like I expected Isabella to actually fuck me, but the finality in the way she’d delivered that fact to Dominic when he awkwardly caught us in a moment was enough to bruise my ego. But I knew I shouldn’t let it get to my head. This was a good thing. My upstairs and downstairs brain needed to get the picture that she was off-limits.
Women like Isabella were expected to make all the right moves in life. The right career, the right partner, the right private school for their children, and the right luxury New York City property to raise them in. None of that could come together if they looked too far outside their circles.
But there’s something about the way that I felt like Isabella did things differently. Or at least wanted to.
Isabella, the trust fund baby of a world-renowned sex therapist, author, and speaker. And that was just her mother. Her father came from a long line of money from his own family, so together, they were a multimillion-dollar powerhouse of a family. I couldn’t let myself be convinced that Isabella liked taking in strays as much as her brother did.
I should at least be thankful that, unlike Ana, Isabella wouldn’t string me along for two years waiting for me to turn into something I wasn’t. She set the precedent early, and that, at least, deserved some respect.
I knew befriending the rich kid at summer camp would open me up to a world I’d never experienced before. But I hadn’t anticipated I’d feel like such an outcast even all these years later. Dominic and I had known each other since we were fourteen. We’d been randomly assigned bunkmates in a cabin at a camp for boys.
My parents sent me there because there was no one else to watch me during the summer while my parents worked. I wasn’t sure why Dom’s parents sent him there, but I was grateful. With Dom’s menacing glare, quiet attitude, and “don’t fuck with me” face, no one messed with him—or me—all summer.
For some reason, Dominic had kept inviting me to things even after summer camp had wrapped. It took me a while to fully let it sink in that me and Dom were actually friends. That in a city where class was clearly divided throughout the boroughs, this teenage boy didn’t care. Dom hadn’t cared that my dad had to pick up night shifts to be able to afford my soccer uniforms or that my parents only had the one home where me and my three sisters grew up.
By the time I had met Dom, Isabella had already moved out. At that point, she was probably somewhere between Barcelona and Lisbon, and it would be a long while before I’d meet her in person. She’d swept into town to celebrate her mom’s birthday, and there was so much energy around her that I got sucked in. I’d watched her from the sidelines as Dominic and I prepped the pool, and Isabella had helped the florists place their centerpieces on the outdoor tables. She’d been wearing a dark red summer dress dotted with tiny white and yellow flowers. Her feet were bare, and an ankle bracelet with dangling golden butterflies glistened in the sun on her tan skin.
But even though the memory had aged over time, I remembered how I felt when I first laid eyes on her, listened to her speak, and heard her laugh.
To say I’d been instantly infatuated was an understatement. But I knew the bro code, and I held strong and fast to those rules for fear of losing the friendship and connections Dom brought me. A poor kid from Brooklyn didn’t grow up to be a Master Sommelier without the influence of the wealthy.
It didn’t matter if her brown eyes twinkled in the chandelier light or her face heated when I’d told her about some of the member activities that went on in the lounge areas. It didn’t matter that I’d like her on her knees in front of me doing some of those activities.
When I’d seen her for the first time after all these years, that same electric feeling zapped through my belly. I hadn’t been able to keep my eyes off her then, and I couldn’t figure out how to do it now either. It didn’t help that Isabella was somehow even more attractive now than she was back then.
Even back when I’d barely known her, there was a pull, an intrigue about Isabella that caught my attention. But time, the sun, and life experiences had shaped Isabella into someone I really wanted to get to know now.
“Hey.” Isabella’s voice brought me back from wherever my mind and dick had traveled off to. “I think your private-tasting clients are here. Do you need anything?”
“Yeah, you,” I said.
Isabella turned to face me. “What?”
