Madam of Maple Court (19 page)

"I'm glad. I've realized over the past few months that I don't have many intimate friends. I have lots of acquaintances, but very few people I would call friends." She looked down ruefully "Actually, none. Somehow I felt something comfortable when we first met."

"That's what I try to give to my clients, a feeling of closeness and understanding that's nonjudgmental."

"You project that quite well. Let me help you with the rest of this," Pam said. "When I found out about what Vin and Liza had been doing I was shocked at first. Since then I've adjusted for reasons I'll tell you about later. I'd really like it if you were frank with me about all of it."

Marcy obviously made up her mind. "Club Fantasy is housed in a brownstone in the East Fifties. It's got rooms that we can dress up to be almost anything a man or woman has ever dreamed about: a sheik's tent, a pirate ship, a doctor's office, a football field with cheerleaders, or a bedroom with convenient places to hide or break into. The basement is a dungeon with suitable accoutrements. It's got just about everything. We fulfill fantasies using everything from costumes and odors to sound effects."

"Before I met you and Liza, I wouldn't have dreamed that Vin even had fantasies."

"Most wives have no idea that their husbands might want more unusual things, more's the pity, but many do. If couples could only communicate, I'd have much less business and I'd be much happier for them. But the men I talk to don't seem to be willing to take the risk of revealing their innermost thoughts. They don't even consider that their partner might be interested in giving new things a try. I guess my greatest regret would be the thought of a couple who's been married for, say, thirty years, each having the same desire and neither ever having the nerve to talk about it."

"You're right about that. Obviously Vin didn't, and I never knew that I wanted anything more than what we had. Actually, I never knew what I was missing."

"And now you do?"

Pam merely grinned.

"That's terrific," Marcy said, raising her glass in salute.

"Good for you!" She sipped. "At Club Fantasy we also cater to out-of-towners, men in the city on business who want the kind of good time we can provide.

"About a year ago we began to do the kind of thing Rob needs. There used to be a great escort service in Manhattan called Courtesans, Inc. They've gone out of business now and much of their party business has moved to us."

Horrified pictures flashing through her brain, Pam said, "Out of business? Were they arrested?"

Marcy laughed. "Not at all. The founder is married and long gone from the city, as is my sister. Gone out of business means just that, gone out of business."

Pam was thoughtful, trying to deal with the stereotypes Marcy continued to destroy. "Rob said you were sending five women to his party."

"I am, as long as you're willing to have such stuff go on in your house, your home. The only one who actually lives at the club is Rock, our bouncer. He looks like a professional wrestler and he's always there when we're entertaining. He gets free rent and the use of the facilities when we're not open. That's Mondays and Tuesdays. We've seldom had to use his services, but I think his mere presence ends most trouble before it starts. You'll have to decide whether you are up for having your residence made public."

Pam hesitated. The partygoers who ended up with the paid escorts would know the location of her house and might think she was fair game. "I never thought about that."

"I don't think it's a big problem. I can't see any of the men who know about my business coming around when you're not entertaining. They have a lot to lose if the police have to be called, and they know it. It is, however, something to consider. You certainly need someone around while you're hosting a party just in case anyone gets out of line. You never know what guys with lots of liquor and women might think they can do.

"I can, of course, ask Rock whether he'd be willing to front for you from time to time on the nights we're closed, but on other nights, like next Saturday for Rob's party, we should give some thought to how to protect you."

"In essence I'd be running a whorehouse." She cringed at the words.

"If you knowingly host parties in which this sort of thing is going on, I guess so. Does that sit all right with you?"

"Phew, that's a lot to take in. Six months ago I was the very proper wife of a very proper corporate executive. Now I know he wasn't so proper, and I guess I'm not, either."

Grinning, Marcy said, "Proper people don't necessarily have much fun."

Pam couldn't help but smile along with her. "I've discovered that."

"From that gleam in your eye, I assume you're making love with someone special?"

"Special? Maybe, maybe not." She realized that Marcy was someone who could help her deal with the distress about having sex with both Gary and Rob. "I've been with two guys since I saw you last." She didn't even mention the slightly boring guy her friends had set her up with weeks before.

Marcy reached out and squeezed Pam's hands. "Bravo. Sex is the most fun, isn't it?"

Grinning, Pam said, "Yeah. It is. Now that I know what I've been missing, it's sort of like a new toy."

"Are the two in question good lovers?"

"I don't think I know what that means."

"It means several different things. Are you satisfied?"

"Oh yes."

"Are they creative?"

"If you mean kinky stuff, no." She couldn't control her blush. "It's just good, hot, orgasmic sex."

"Hmm. No kinky sex. Too bad."

"Is everyone interested in kinky stuff?"

"Not everyone, but now that you've let the genie out of the bottle it might be time for you to get a bit more adventurous before you miss the opportunity and settle down again."

"I'm not settling down so fast," Pam said, meaning every word.

"You never know. Are there things you wonder about? Things you'd like to try but neither guy is interested in?"

She decided to be completely honest. She had been reading magazine articles and erotic how-to manuals and there were things that it seemed nice people did that she'd never experienced. She had to admit that she was curious. "There are things I might like to experiment with," Pam admitted. " 'There are more things on heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy' "

"Hamlet, I think. And you're so right."

"Does that make me some kind of slut?"

Marcy frowned. "Oh my, such harsh words. 'Slut' is so pejorative. It makes you a woman who's not afraid to admit the desire to experiment. Bravo for you."

"I'm not so sure. It's really been bothering me. When Vin and I dated, we dated only each other. Now I'm not only dating but having sex with two men and thinking of still more exotic activities. It doesn't feel right to me."

"So stop. Pick one and end it with the other."

Pam chuckled. "That doesn't feel right, either."

Marcy dipped some more bread into the oil, chewed slowly, then licked her fingers in an unconsciously sensual gesture. Finally she said, "Only you can decide what's right for you. Just let me say this. It's not selfish to want things for yourself, and as long as you're not hurting anyone else, what's the harm? Have either of the guys asked you to be exclusive?"

Pam considered. "Gary's not ready for any kind of exclusive relationship. At least not yet. He spends a great deal of time with his children, as he should, and they are the center of his life. If he were to ask someone to give up everyone else for him, then he'd have to take the part of himself that he's spending on his daughters and share that, too. I don't think he's ready to do that."

"I think you're very wise. What about the other one? Can I guess that it's Rob Sherwood?"

She felt her face flush. "Yeah, and he's a wonderful, easy, light, no-strings kind of guy. He's not asking anything of me."

"You're right about him. He's been married twice, no kids and oodles of money. He's got bevies of women who wouldn't mind being Mrs. Sherwood number three, without a prenup, of course. It must be refreshing for him to find someone like you who isn't on the hunt for a next hubby."

"Me? Marry again? Not yet." She thought about that. "I've got some wild oats to sow, ones I never sowed before Vin."

"So sow away. I think you've answered your own question. Have a blast. Leave no stone unfucked."

Pam burst out laughing. Marcy had a way of making everything look simple and easy. "Right you are."

"Okay, now that we've got your personal future planned out, you need to be sure you're okay with Rob's party. Are you up for it?"

"Why the hell not?"

"Just do whatever you can to protect your own safety. I'll see whether Rock knows someone who could be there during the festivities, just as a not-so-subtle warning to everyone not to let anything get out of hand."

"That would be great."

"After lunch, how about coming over to the club and I'll show you around, introduce you to Rock, and we can see what we can arrange."

"I'd love it."

The two women took a taxi to West Fifty-Fourth Street and climbed out in front of an unassuming four-story brownstone not unlike many others on the block. The only thing that might have distinguished it was an elaborate keypad for what Pam assumed was a state-of-the-art alarm system. She quickly realized that for a brothel, something like that would be imperative. Fortunately Vin had been a bit paranoid and had had a serious system installed in the house at the time it was built. Not only was the house alarmed, but the property was monitored with video cameras and thoroughly protected in other ways as well. Pam had never paid any attention to it, just punched the various controls to set and unset it as a matter of habit.

Pam followed Marcy into a large, comfortable front hallway that branched in several directions. To the right, a living room was low key and tasteful, with comfortable upholstered furniture and a quite unremarkable collection of tables, lamps, and greenery. A big-screen TV dominated one end of the room beside a fully functioning wet bar.

"Were you expecting black leather or a tinkling player piano?" Marcy said with a smile, watching Pam's expression.

"I guess I didn't know what to expect."

"That's the best answer to all of this, I guess. We've redone it several times to make it feel comfortable, welcoming and sort of homey, a place where if something breaks, no one cares. People are nervous enough, especially their first time here, that we didn't want to increase the stress level any more than absolutely necessary."

"Hello," a male voice called from the back of the building.

"Hi, Rock," Marcy said. "I've got a visitor. Come on out and meet her if you've got time."

"Sure. Be right there." The voice was deep, yet not so booming as to be threatening.

When Rock appeared he was wiping his hands on a kitchen towel. He kissed Marcy's cheek, then looked at Pam. "This is my friend Pam," Marcy said. "You've heard me talk about her. Pam, this is Rock."

Rock was immense, an obvious bodybuilder, with heavily muscled arms, shoulders and chest, beneath a tight black T-shirt. His upper arms were adorned with tattoos of chains around his biceps and his wrists. His black jeans covered long legs and a narrow waist and his head was completely shaved, with a large diamond stud winking in each ear. He wasn't really handsome, but he exuded masculinity and sex through every pore. He also made it plain, without any effort, that he brooked no interference from anyone about anything. In most ways Rock was exactly what Pam expected a bouncer to look like. However, he was wearing a "kiss the cook" apron and was wiping his hands on a frilly kitchen towel.