CHAPTER 1: LIZ
1461 Words
CHAPTER 1: LIZ
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Elizabeth sat in the office of La Petite Mort Club, trying not to stare. The owner, Ethan St. Johns, was the sexiest man she’d ever seen. Yes, he was good looking with his strong cheek bones and sandy brown hair, but it was more than that. There was something about him that made her want to be bad.
“So, Mrs. White, are you sure you want to join La Petite Mort Club.” Ethan’s blue eyes searched her face.
“Yes.” She struggled to remain passive under his perusal. She wasn’t going to admit that the only reason she wanted to join the s*x club was because her husband was a member.
“Who recommended us to you?”
“No one.”
“Please, Mrs. White. Someone must have pointed you to us. We don’t run ads in the neighborhood flyer.” He smiled and she swore her knees actually melted.
“Of course not.” She giggled. This was ridiculous. She was a grown woman, mother of three adult children, not a teenage girl with her first crush. She cleared her throat. “I heard about this place...through a friend.” She’d thought her husband was her best friend until she’d found the membership card in his dresser drawer.
Even though she’d understood the French name, she’d had to Google the place. She hadn’t truly believed that Craig had been cheating on her, but he had and not only with one woman but a club full of young women. She’d died a little that day.
“And who might this friend be?” He leaned back in his seat. “I’ll be honest, Mrs. White. I’m not inclined to grant membership to just anyone.”
“I’m not just anyone.”
“You’re not our typical client.”
“Because I’m not male?” She should’ve figured as much. Men her age were considered distinguished whereas women—no matter how much they stayed in shape or colored their hair—were old.
“Because you’re married.”
She glanced at her hand but the ring was gone. She’d lost a little more of her heart when she’d taken it off, knowing it was never going back on her finger. “My husband. I found out about this place through my husband.”
“Really?” He seemed genuinely surprised.
“Yes.” She never would’ve known this vile place existed if not for his infidelity.
“In that case, you don’t need to fill out any paperwork. You can have Craig add you to his membership.” He leaned forward as if to stand, as if this meeting was over.
“No.” She didn’t want her husband knowing anything about this until he saw her here.
“It’s less expensive.”
“I don’t care about the money.” That wasn’t their problem anymore. She almost wished it were.
They’d been a team while struggling to make ends meet, but once his advertising business had taken off, she’d quit her job to take care of the kids. Now, the children were grown and gone and she was alone.
“I see.” He smiled softly. “May I ask why you don’t want Craig to know about this?”
“That’s not...” The look on his face told her not to bother lying. “We’re getting divorced.”
“Oh.” Again he seemed surprised. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Yes. Well...” She wasn’t sure what to say when people said that because she was sorry too. She still loved her husband, but he didn’t feel the same.
“This poses a problem.” Ethan steepled his hands in front of him.
“Why?”
“It isn’t my policy to allow divorced couples to both be members.”
“What? Because he’s a member, I can’t be?”
“Sorry, but yes.”
“Why?” She wanted to scream it wasn’t fair—just like him cheating on her wasn’t fair—but she was pretty sure throwing a tantrum wasn’t the way to get through to this man.
He shrugged. “Fighting—real fighting, not play fighting—isn’t the atmosphere I want at the Club. This is a place for men and women to get away from their troubles, not find them.”
“So now, I’m Craig’s trouble.” She’d had about enough. This was all Craig’s fault. He was the one who’d cheated. The one who’d stopped wanting her.
“I didn’t say that...exactly.”
“It’s fine. I can join another Club.” There had to be other ones, but she wanted to be here. She wanted Craig to see that at forty-five she was still an attractive, desirable, s****l woman.
“I can recommend a few.” He leaned forward, opening his desk drawer.
“No. Don’t.” She stood. “I’ll call my lawyer instead.”
“Your lawyer?” He stared up at her, a hardness in his blue eyes.
“I believe your practices are discriminatory.”
“Do you?” He relaxed in his chair. “This is a private club and I can choose who I accept. I have not discriminated against you because of your gender, religion, race or because you are of a...certain age.”
She looked away. She would not cry. She wasn’t twenty or thirty but forty-five wasn’t old.
“Sit, please.” He stood.
She sat. She had no idea why but there was something about him that made her obey.
“Let me get you something to drink.”
“No, thank you. I’m fine.” As fine as any woman who still loved her cheating husband could be. Twenty-three years of marriage gone. Thrown away.
“Wine? White, red or rose?”
“Red please.” She may as well have a drink. If she were nice, maybe she could persuade Ethan to grant her a membership. Eventually, she’d get over this betrayal, but right now, she needed Craig to feel something for her. If she couldn’t have his love or desire, she’d take his anger.
He walked to the bar and poured a glass of wine. He came back to the desk and handed it to her.
“Thank you.”
He sat. “Now, Mrs. White—”
“Elizabeth. Liz.”
He nodded. “Elizabeth, please tell me why you really want a membership.”
She took a sip of her wine. Telling him the truth wouldn’t work, but she was pretty sure he’d see through her lie. So, half-truth it was, no matter how embarrassing. “I want to have sex.”
“That goes without saying.” He grinned. “This is La Petite Mort Club.”
She’d expected some reaction but she shouldn’t have. Everyone who joined wanted that. She took a deep breath. “I want to feel desirable again, wanted.”
“And your husband doesn’t do this for you?”
She shook her head, her throat too tight to speak.
“Hmm.” He steepled his fingers again, studying her.
“That can’t be unusual for women...couples my age.” Age had never bothered her until now—until Craig had turned to another woman or women...younger women.
“It isn’t but it is unusual for the woman to want to join the same establishment as her husband.” He leaned closer to her. “That usually only happens if she wants him back or wants to teach him a lesson. Neither of those reasons are welcome in my club.”
“That’s not it. Truly.” She was losing ground. “I...this is the only place that I know of—”
“I offered to give you names of similar clubs.”
“Yes, but this one...Craig trusts it, so I do too. I don’t want to catch something or...or get hurt.”
He studied her for a long moment. “You truly want to do this? Join the Club and have s*x with strangers?”
“Is it that hard to believe a woman in her forties wants s*x? I’m sure most of your male clientele are my age or older.”
“It’s hard to believe this of you.”
“Me? You don’t even know me.”
He opened his desk drawer and pulled out a manila folder. “I do background checks on all potential customers.”
“You....you looked into my past.” Not that she had anything to hide. She and Craig had met and started dating in college. They’d married shortly after graduation and she’d gotten pregnant right away. They’d had three wonderful children and she’d thought a great life, but obviously, it and she hadn’t been enough for him.
“Yes and you don’t seem the type to want to f**k strange men.”
She stiffened at the obscenity and he smirked. “Well, I’m changing. Divorce can do that to a woman.”
“It can do that to a man too.”
“Are you divorced?”
He laughed. “No. Never been married.”
“Then you have no idea.” No idea of the devastation, the betrayal, the emptiness inside—the place her husband had filled was now a hollow, empty cavern.
“I’ve seen more married and divorced couples in their most basic element than you ever will. I’m quite familiar with people and their games.”
Good thing he hadn’t said women and their games. She might’ve had to slap him. “I’m sure you are, but I’m not playing games of any kind.” She needed to stick to her story. Any deviation would be her downfall.
“You’re telling me that you and Craig are parting amicably?”
“Yes.” Not exactly, but that didn’t matter.
“Good.” He closed the folder. “I’ll call him and make sure he’s okay with me giving you a membership.”
“You can’t do that.” She wanted to surprise Craig, to shock him, and telling him ahead of time wouldn’t accomplish that.
“That’s the only way you’re getting inside this Club.”
“Fine. I’ll go somewhere else.” She stood and strode to the door. Men were all assholes.
- Writer
