2. Dane
DANE
The old century French Gothic building is just as stunning inside as it is on the outside. The grand entrance is tall as it is wide. The skeletal framework of the arches in the ceiling are highlighted by dramatic uplighting from the corners of vertical pillars.
The moment you walk in, you instantly feel transported to a completely different era. One of classic elegance and timeless beauty. But I know the truth of what lies behind those hidden lobby doors.
“Dane?” I glance over to where I heard my name.
“Juliette!” I say with a bit too much excitement and my words echo off the cement pillars and granite floor. Stepping toward her, she smiles as I lean down pecking her with a kiss on each cheek.
Juliette has been the manager of Avec Plaisir since it opened four years ago.
I came for their opening night celebration, but so did half of the LGBTQ+ community in Paris.
Needless to say it was wild and a tad out of control.
Parisian police couldn’t control the crowd and a man with more threats than wit came barging through the doors, grabbed Juliette and held her at gunpoint.
With more adrenaline coursing through my body than logic, I tackled him and held him to the ground until the police could restrain him.
Don’t dig too much into my heroic actions. I am no hero.
I just act first and think of the consequences later.
I have a genius level IQ, with the instinctual behavior of a jellyfish, and the emotional intelligence of a baby panda.
But, from that point on, Juliette has always given me a bit of special treatment.
“It’s been a long time. How have you been?” she asks.
“I’ve been good. Traveling, causing trouble,” I wiggle my eyebrows, “you know, the usual. How about you? How’s Tom?”
She holds up her left hand, the diamond on her ring finger shining just as bright as her beaming smile.
“Oh no, not you too.” I roll my eyes with a smile and she smacks my chest. “I’m kidding! Congratulations, I’m so happy for you guys.”
She’s giddy with excitement as she tells me how he proposed and a foreign sensation forms around my chest that feels like a vise around my ribcage.
This is the third, or maybe fourth, time this has happened in the past couple of months.
The sheer panic that blankets me when someone I know gets married, engaged, or announces they’re having a baby.
A brief feeling of sadness and jealousy rakes through me before an overwhelming feeling of anxiety comes barging in like a fucking bull in a china shop.
I place the palm of my hand over my chest and rub at the breastbone.
What. The. Fuck.
I don’t want to settle down. So, why does my mind reel straight in that direction while my body completely malfunctions?
Naturally my lungs expand attempting to pull in air and I force myself to breath out slowly and heavily.
“Oh gosh, you don’t want to hear all this. I’m so sorry—”
“No, no, that’s not it at all,” I reply urgently, “I just walked here and it was a long trip today.” I plaster a wide smile on my face and lie, because I have no idea how to explain the foreign feelings coursing through my body.
She appraises me deeply before a closed-mouth smile graces her lips. I know she suspects something but, thankfully, she doesn’t show it nor does she push.
“Well then, let’s get you relaxed, shall we?
” She rounds the lobby barrier to the computer that sits in the middle of a high table, punching a few keys before continuing.
“We were at capacity earlier but I know some other patrons have already left.” Immediately transitioning from my friend to the erotica concierge she is.
“So, what’s your pleasure tonight, good sir? ”