“I feel like you know more about the Society than you’re telling me.”
“Not a ton. I just know it’s the most exclusive club in the city. Only the top 1% of 1% get invited. I’ve heard it costs a million dollars to join.”
I rolled my eyes. “Very funny. And do they also give their members free spa sessions?” I pushed the letter across the table so she could read it, even though I was now quite certain that she was the one who had written it in the first place. How else would she have known about the astronomical security deposit?
“Holy shit! They really sent you this? Where did you get the million dollars to pay the entrance fee?”
I just stared at her. “I didn’t. I have zero money. You know this.”
“Weird. Maybe that’s how they get girls to join. Lure them in with the promise of a million-dollar payout at the end… It’s actually quite clever.”
“Why would such a prestigious club need tolurewomen into joining?”
“Uh…” Her cheeks actually turned rosy. I’d never seen anything that made Chastity blush.
This is bad. Really, really bad.“Spill it.”
She waved me off. “It’s probably not true. It’s better if you go in without any preconceived notions.”
“Yeah. I don’t want to get my hopes up when this whole thing is clearly just a charade you set up to trick me into getting some sort of erotic massage.” I putmassagein air quotes. Because I was pretty sure she was trying to get me to do something illegal.
Chastity narrowed her eyes. “Wait, you really think I sent these letters?”
“I mean…you kind of gave it away when you knew about the million-dollar buy-in.”
“I didn’t realize that was for real. It’s just what I’ve heard.”
“You swear it wasn’t you that made these letters?”
“Cross my heart and hope to die. I think you should just accept that it’s real. Haven’t you ever seen those Hallmark movies where a girl makes a wish and it comes true? Or the one wherethe two dudes pee into the fountain and switch bodies? Maybe joining the Society is your pee fountain!"
"First, don’t ever use the words 'pee fountain' again.” I shivered just thinking about almost peeing in a conference room at BIMG. “Second, those are movies. Wishes don't just magically come true in real life. And broke divorcées don’t get invited to secret clubs." This wasn’t real. It couldn’t be.
Chastity took a loud sip of her chai latte.
"So what do you think?” I asked. “Is Liz behind this?”
Chastity sighed like I was exhausting her and pointed to the logo on the broken wax seal. "I think you just need to accept that it's from a handsome suitor with a magic lamp."
My stalker!I shook my head. In a city of millions, the chances were slim to none. "Or a Nigerian Prince trying to scam me out of a million dollars. And what makes you think that’s a magic lamp? It looks more like…” I stared down at the strange symbol.
It could really have been anything. “A bird? An ancient Norse rune? Two people banging?”
“It’s definitely a genie lamp,” said Chastity.
“I don’t know. That feels like a bit of a stretch.” I squinted and tilted my head. “Ohhh, if you tilt it, it kind of looks like a dude in a wheelchair with a really big foot.”
“So let me get this right. You think that the Society - a super-secret club that grants its members wishes - made their logo be a dude in a wheelchair rather than a genie lamp?”
“You make a convincing argument. I’m still more concerned about who invited me.”And if it was my stalker.
"There's really only one way to find out," said Chastity.
"Go to the FBI and let them dust these letters for fingerprints?"
"No!” She shoved the letter in front of me. “You have to go to that spa appointment, Ash."
"I'd prefer not to get raped and murdered today, so I think I'll pass on that." Not to mention that the thought of getting naked and being massaged by a stranger was horrifying. I’d never been to a massage parlor before, but it sounded like a place that perverts would like to frequent.
