“I’ve been part of Carl’s circle since the days when he used to have these hush-hush underground parties where you’d receive the location on a pager––that really ages me––three hours before things kicked off. It was all word-of-mouth. Now, he has a fleet of locations that cater to people like me. The restaurant is a nice front.”
“The front is what keeps the wrong people away,” I say.
“You’re right. I’m surprised you never became a member here no matter how many times I tried to get you to join.”
“Dark Compulsion works well for me.”I like kinky. Not freaky.
“Pity. You’re missing out on so much, Rod.”
Rumor has it the Sanctuary is where the unspeakable happens. Just like Dark Compulsion, it’s an adult club for the rich and famous, but unlike my club, the Sanctuary only caters to those looking for hardcore BDSM—weird-ass fetishes, extreme erotic humiliation, masochism and the list goes on. No thanks. It also has a hefty annual fee. If you have a cool seventy-fivethousand dollars burning a hole in your pocket, you’re guaranteed a good fuck, no strings attached and no drama post-fuck.
“I hope you were able to sort things out with your lawyers,” I say changing the subject.
“Ah, you’re referring to yesterday’s phone call. I wish I could say I had, but unfortunately it’s still a thorn in my side.”
“I’m sure everything will work out in your favor.”
“I sure hope so because it’s fucking annoying and a huge time-sucker,” he growls.
“I can understand.”
“Enough of this uninteresting legal talk, we’re here to catch up. Let’s get you a drink and we’ll order some food.”
“That sounds good.”
* * *
The meal was outstanding. I can’t say I expected anything less.
An hour later, the restaurant is a lot more animated than when I first arrived. When Gideon talked about catching up, I guess he meant sharing every detail ofhislife in London. He hasn’t asked too many questions about me and I haven’t offered to fill in the blanks.
“Do you still hang out with your bandmates?” he asks.
“We’re still very close. We hang out as often as we can. But you know how it is, we’ve gone in different directions and we each have a business to run. That said, no matter how crazy, we’ll spend the week between Christmas and New Year’s on Catalina Island. We each have a home there, so it’s great. We haven’t missed one yet. Holt still makes it back every year with his daughter.
“That’s good,” he nods before taking a sip of his Bloody Caesar Geisha. Think Bloody Caesar with a shot of sake.
I have no idea how he stomachs that thing.
“Holt, Beckett and Jace are related. They took me in like a fourth brother. I’m glad we still have such a strong relationship.”
“Keep your boys close,” he says. There seems to be more to his statement. “Whatever happened to that girl who pretended to be your shadow? Tsk—” he snaps his fingers together, trying to remember.
I arch an eyebrow. “Who?”
“Donatella? Diandra? Danika?” he squints his eyes. “The blonde who used to follow you around like a lost puppy.”
“Dominika?”
“That’s it! The Polish chick!”
“You mean myAustrian-bornbest friend.”
“Poland. Austria. Same thing.”Mexico. Costa Rica. Same thing. Not.“She’s still hoping your fame will brush off on her?”
Whoa.
“Gideon, Dominika isn’t that kind of person. She never expected anything from me. She has her own successful video production company now and her own studio—adjacent to ours. She’s made a name for herself in the industry on her own merit—not by riding my coattail. In fact, she’s brushed off my offer to help numerous times.”
