She gasped. “Not exactly, I don’t take money from the girls, whatever extra they earn, they keep. They’re paid a salary, Alex. I keep proper accounts.” Her voice rose in mock indignation.
“And what have you registered your ‘business’ as at HMRC?” My eyebrows furrowed and I pursed my lips to contain the snigger.
“A gentleman’s club, of course. Whatever else? You won’t dob me in, will you?”
I rubbed my chin and paused before replying. “Of course not, but, Veronica, I’m a little worried about you being involved in this. It’s not a safe environment and it’s your home.”
“Darling, you came here not knowing where you were coming to, and you might have boxed for Eton but I have always been able to defend myself as well.”
I sighed. She was my cousin, and being an only child, her father turned her into the boy he wanted. She could fence better than her club captain, horse ride, she undertook martial arts when she disappeared to Thailand for a while. I had no doubt she could defend herself, but owning a sex club? Surely that was on another level.
“This is high class, Alex. Out there are some very familiar faces, you’ll struggle not to chuckle. Some are spouting off in parliament about the poor and disadvantaged during the day, then heard fucking the brains out of a lovely male submissive in the evening.”
I held up my hand. “Am I going to compromise myself, Von?”
“No, it’s a quiet night. There’s only Stanton and Jeremy Daughton in the bar just now. Do you know Jeremy?”
I shook my head not recalling the name. Needing more information on what I was letting myself in for, I asked a question I hoped I wouldn’t regret. “What happens here?”
She went on to explain that she had some bedrooms available for patrons to use either with other patrons, groups, or sex workers. She told me that every girl there had a full medical check and was willingly employed, some were old school friends who, like Veronica, lived a hedonistic lifestyle, loved the sex, and wanted the money.
I held up my hands in a kind of surrender. “Okay, I’m only here to see if I can get some dirt on Stanton,” I confessed.
She tilted her head. “I can imagine. And had you asked, I could have helped with that a while ago.”
“Let me go and meet with him in the bar. Can we chat later? Or maybe tomorrow?”
She smiled and nodded, then slid a card over her desk. It contained her personal mobile number, something I didn’t think I had. I pocketed the card and then rose.
“Alex, if this place isn’t for you, you know, for now…” She gave me a wink. “I can provide you whatever you need. Stanton released my family from his shady fucking group because he knows I have images of him. All I have to do is walk in there later and pretend I hadn’t seen you come in.”
I thought for a moment. I wasn’t there for the sex, and it would certainly solve a problem. I nodded. “Give me ten or so minutes.”
I left her office and walked slowly across the vast hallway. It was a shame to see the ornaments gone, the chandelier missing, and all the glorious things that made it a grand home, sold to pay taxes and debts. It was shabby but, thankfully, in a still chic way. It wasn’t a high-class gentleman’s club, though. I had been to many, and even just that walk to the bar had me thinking.
I could hear Stanton from outside the room. His booming voice reverberated around the mostly empty, former library. To one side was a bar with an immaculately dressed barman who was polishing glasses, and I wondered just how many stories he had to tell. The man acknowledged me when I entered, alerting Stanton that I was there.
“You’re late, old boy. I began to think you’d chickened out.” His raucous laughter was echoed by his other guest.
“No, not at all.” I turned to the barman. “Glenfiddich, with ice.”
Stanton’s guest didn’t introduce himself; although he had no need as Veronica had already told me his name, not that I recognised him at all. He was shady looking, kept quiet, but with a permanent smirk. Stanton babbled on, telling his guest all about my business. I began to realise this visit wasn’t about sex but about being introduced to Jeremy Daughton. I had a feeling I was being interviewed. When Daughton spoke, it was with a heavy accent, possibly Russian and I then doubted his name was really Jeremy.
There had been one thing that kept me from trouble my whole life. It was a gut feeling that was indescribable but not to be ignored. I got that feeling the minute I spoke with Jeremy. He explained that he was looking to invest heavily in the UK and his friend, Stanton, had thought I might be able to help.
Stanton looked between us, licking his lips as if he were about to eat a meal. Or expect a fat commission and finder’s fee from us both.
“Perhaps, Mr. Daughton, I’ll take your details and we can arrange a meeting. I’m sure you don’t want to be doing business on such a pleasant evening as this. However, I should add, I’m not taking on any new clients just yet, another opportunity has arisen that will keep me busy for a while. But I might have another avenue for you,” I said.
Stanton clapped me on the back. “You could do a lot worse than have Daughton on your books, old boy,” he said. His touch made my skin crawl. “And you’re right, why spoil this evening when this place is full of sexy and very compliant women?” He winked at Daughton who returned the wink.
A voice came from behind us. “Alex! My darling, how absolutely wonderful to see you here.”
I smiled as I turned to see Veronica striding across the room. Her staggeringly high heels clip-clopped on the wood. Stanton visibly shrank. Jeremy seemed impressed.
“Veronica,” I said, as she closed in. She held my biceps and kissed both my cheeks.
“Do you have all you need, gentleman?” she asked. “And Lord Stanton, please adhere to my previous warning.”
