CHAPTER THREE #2
Charlotte glanced at the servant and waited until he left the room before leaning conspiratorially over the corner of the table. “Did you know that kink clubs are legal in New York?”
“Yes.” I swirled my glass.
“Oh.” She blushed and looked down. “If you already knew about that, this might be a stupid idea.”
“I doubt it.” Though I thought I knew the conversational road she was going to walk us down, I didn’t want to step on her toes. “Tell me. I want to know.”
She hesitated.
“Princess...” I began with a warning tone. “If you don’t tell me, I might have to punish you.”
She wouldn’t want another spanking today.
With a deep breath, she said, “I was thinking about how much fun Ascend Red was. How much simpler things felt when we were there. And I don’t see why there can’t be something like that here, in the city.”
“I have considered that before.” It had always hit a dead end when it came to secrecy. “I think it’s a great idea, but the anonymity is where it becomes a problem.”
“Because everyone will see people entering and leaving the building,” she said with a nod. “I thought of that, too. What if it was a hotel?”
“A hotel?”
“Yeah. That’s what you do. Hotels, resorts.
.. why not one with a secret, very discrete, invitation-only section for kink?
” The more she talked about it, the more confident she sounded about her idea.
“It wouldn’t have to be marked on anything official.
You could even put a fancy restaurant in it, so people would have an excuse if they got caught arriving or leaving. ”
“Arriving and leaving through an underground entrance.” That could work.
“What about a fleet of nondescript vehicles? They could like, secret-Uber their way there and home and none would be the wiser.” Her eyes lit up like we were hatching a naughty scheme.
And we were. It wasn’t as if I’d never had the idea to start a kink establishment in Manhattan. It certainly wouldn’t be the first of its kind. “We have to be careful, though. It’s not technically against the law, but that doesn’t mean it’s legal.”
“It doesn’t?” Her brows drew together.
“There aren’t any specific laws against a for-profit kink club,” I explained. “Prostitution, solicitation, those things are illegal. We couldn’t have it set up like Ascend Red. We couldn’t pay people to have sex with our clientele.”
“You’ve thought of doing this before.” She sounds nervous. And… apologetic.
“It’s a good idea,” I reassure her. “I’m not dismissing it. Just brainstorming.”
“Well, I’ll give you my ideas for free,” she quipped.
Our food came in, and Charlotte’s eyes widened. Each plate bore an artfully presented birds’ nest of pasta trimmed with vibrant green herbs and sun-dried tomatoes, and a drizzle of pesto around the plate.
“Do you um…” She looked down at it and chewed her bottom lip. “Do you ever eat normal food?”
“Spaghetti is normal.” Wasn’t it? “Eminem wouldn’t have referenced it in that song if it wasn’t normal.”
“Leaving aside the fact that you seem to be basing your idea of ‘normal’ people on pop songs,” she began, picking up her fork, “what I mean is, this is like fancy restaurant plating. And I know this was made from scratch because it doesn’t take anybody an hour to make spaghetti out of a box. Do you ever have normal dinner?”
“This is normal, for me,” I pointed out. I wasn’t sure why I was suddenly so defensive about it; I was fully aware that our lifestyles were vastly different.
“How about one night a week, we make our dinner,” she suggested, twirling some spaghetti on her fork.
“Ourselves?” I tried to remember the last time I’d cooked a meal. Did Ramen noodles in a coffee maker count?
“Yes. We can go to the grocery store, buy what we need, come back here and make it.” She took a bite, and her eyes closed in satisfaction. “Okay, but only once a week. Because this is too big a pleasure to deny myself.”
“One dinner a week,” I agreed. “But you have to splurge on self-care at least twice a week, or no deal.”
“Self-care?” She gestured with a rapid flick of her middle finger. “Because I do that more than twice a week.”
“No, I mean stuff like massages, meditation, facials…”
She snorted. “I get most of my facials from you.”
I needed the dragon to battle this deflection. “You’re not going to get out of this one, princess. I order you to do something decadent for yourself at least twice a week. Even if you’re worried that it’s too expensive. Even if you feel guilty about the cost or time spent.”
She considered. “I have always wanted to try out that sensory deprivation thing.”
“There. You’ve got your first one already planned.” The next one wouldn’t be as easy, but I was willing to set it as a parameter. “I know your friends are back in California, but I’d like you to try to make some here in New York.”
“Oh god, no.” She shook her head vehemently. “No, making friends as an adult is a nightmare.”
“I’m aware. But I can’t be your only person here.
” That had happened in some of my past relationships, and things had gone south fast. “I have an established life here, friends, work, and it’s not healthy for me to abandon all of that and lose myself in my romantic relationships.
It’s never worked before, and I don’t want it to sabotage us. ”
“You know…” Her brow crinkled as she thought. “I think I do have a friend here. Or, in the Hamptons, actually. We half-met at Ascend Red.”
“Half-met?”
“She was very, very occupied at the time.” Charlotte raised her eyebrows as if to ask if I understood what she was saying.
I did.
“I ran into her again when you forced me to go shopping, and she gave me some good advice. She also gave me her number, so I can text her.” Charlotte shrugged. “She’ll probably know where the fanciest places for facials are. You know, other than a sex resort.”
“You’re so immature,” I said with a fond shake of my head. “I love it.”
“Does my dragon have any other edicts?” Charlotte asked, her eyes on me as she sucked a noodle into her mouth and batted her lashes.
“Stay silly.”
That would be easy enough, for her.