Matter of Time (3 page)

They hadn’t seen each other in years, but she knew Lucas and she trusted him. At one time, he’d loved her like a sister—like the sister-in-law they all thought she’d be—and he would never allow any harm to come to her.

She twisted her mouth and narrowed her eyes as he glanced back at her and smiled again. Maybe he planned to set her up on a blind date with a hot bartender working at his club. It seemed like an unlikely scenario, but stranger things had happened.

So for one night, she would stop overthinking everything. She would go with Lucas to his club, do a little dancing, meet a few people, and try to enjoy life.

A
s Lizbeth followed Lucas south on Ocean Blvd., toward the heart of what she considered old Myrtle Beach, she found herself once again tripping down memory lane. This time, her time-traveling adventures carried her back to early childhood, before the birth of her much-younger sister, before her father’s company became an international success and their family vacations became weeks-long extravaganzas abroad.

In the early days when finances were tight, long holiday weekends to Myrtle Beach were all her family could afford. But Lizbeth held fond memories of those quick little trips because while in Myrtle Beach, her father wasn’t an entrepreneur, hell-bent on being a big-time success. He was a husband and a father who left his work behind and spent his time doting on his wife and the daughter who adored him.

Myrtle Beach had always been a special, nearly magical place to Lizbeth, and when she thought of those trips, a smile lifted her lips and filled her heart. But driving through this section of town now, with once-lively hotels abandoned and the old Pavilion Amusement Park so noticeably absent, sadness and another pang of longing for the past swamped her.

Lucas’s blinking turn signal snapped her from her reverie and brought her attention back to the present. Following his lead, she turned right onto 9th, traveled west for two blocks, and turned right onto Chester before stopping in front of a building she recognized as the old live-performance theater. Two young men slouched over a valet stand, talking and laughing, jerked to attention as Lucas’s car stopped in front of them. She pulled along the curb behind him, then gathered her purse and coat while Lucas spoke to the young man approaching his car. After brief conversation, Lucas and the other young man approached her car.

When Lucas opened the door, she said, “I remember this building.” She swung her gaze from side to side, then up and down. “It looks exactly the same as it did when I was a kid.”

Lucas’s sunshine-bright smile filled with pride. “Thanks. We worked hard to maintain the original integrity of the building.” He paused and a humorous expression crossed his face. “At least on the outside.” He shrugged and shut her car door, then cradled her elbow in his palm as he led her to the front steps. “We did the best we could on the inside.”

Laughter coated his words, once again raising her suspicions. But as her car pulled away from the curb and disappeared into the parking deck next door, she decided to shrug off the unease and continue with the plan. Go inside and have a few drinks. Dance a little. Meet a potential client or two. Enjoy life for a change.

She’d never been inside the old theater, but she suspected the original lobby was larger and grander. To the right, a hostess stood at an open counter that was probably the original ticket window, a coat room behind her. On the left side of the room sat a small table with two chairs on either side, like one would find inside a small office, such as an accountant’s or law firm. Lucas took Lizbeth’s coat and purse and held them out to the young woman greeting them with a shy smile and lowered eyes.

“Good evening, Chrissy. How are you?”

The young woman lifted her eyes toward Lucas but refrained from making direct eye contact while giving him a demure smile. “I’m well, sir. And you?”

Lucas grinned and winked at Lizbeth when she gave him a mocking
Sir? Aren’t you special?
look. Returning his attention to Chrissy, he said, “I’m fantastic. Take Lizbeth’s things, but rather than putting them in the coat room, lay them in the security room, please.”

“Yes, sir.” The girl rushed to take the items from Lucas’s hands, then opened a door next to the coat room and disappeared inside.

“You have a security room?” Lizbeth asked, swiveling her head to take in the gas wall sconces, red velvet tapestries, plush carpeting, and security camera perched high in the corner.

“Yep. Every square inch of the club is under surveillance, with the exception of the private rooms upstairs.”

Reflexively, she rolled her eyes to the ceiling. “You have private rooms upstairs? Like, if someone is too drunk to drive home, they can stay here?” Dang, if she belonged to a club like this, she might spend less nights going home with strangers because she was either too drunk to drive or too lonely to face the emptiness of her house.

The corner of his mouth twitched as he pressed his hand to the small of her back and led her to a set of double doors that opened into the heart of the club. “Something like that.”

His cryptic response, combined with a sly smile, caused another shiver of unease to snake along her spine and set off warning bells in her head. But as he opened the door and led her into the interior of the club, the bells were drowned out by the buzz of brain activity trying to catalog facts and understand the unexpected surroundings.

The previous theater was huge, so she’d expected the interior of the club to be the same, but it wasn’t. From where she stood just inside the door, she could only see what she guessed to be a third of the interior. Directly in front of her, in the center of the room, lay a small—so small it barely counted—dance floor. Beyond the dance floor, a wall ran the entire width of the building, blocking her view of the rest of the interior. Two hallways cut into the wall, probably where the original theater aisles ran, but it was too dark for her to see beyond the openings.

To the right sat a dimly-lit seating area, arranged much like a hotel lobby with a variety of chairs, sofas, and tables scattered about. There were also a few bean bag chairs strewn around the floor, not something she’d ever seen in a hotel or a club. Relief filled her as she glanced to the left and found a typical bar setup—high bistro tables and chairs in the middle, low booths and tables on the perimeter, and an L-shaped bar occupying the front corner.

This was the most bizarre club she’d ever been in, and with every second that passed, she grew more convinced this wasn’t really a club at all. At least not the kind where one settled in at the bar for a few drinks or carried on casual conversation with potential business prospects.

She bit down on the corner of her lower lip and rotated her head toward the sitting area as a mostly naked woman climbed onto a man’s lap, unzipped his pants, and reached inside to free him, then climbed aboard for a little ride.

The buzz in Lizbeth’s head turned into a rapid-fire
ding-ding-ding
as the big picture snapped into focus. She gasped and spun around so fast she nearly toppled over. “You own a freaking sex club?”

Lucas seemed to be fighting off a laugh as he tucked his hands into his pockets and rocked back on his heels. “We usually refer to Pandora’s Playground as a kink club.” With that declaration, he gave up the fight and his chest and shoulders shook with laughter.

When she continued to blink like a deer trapped in the headlights, he sobered and said, “It’s not sleazy or dirty. It’s an exclusive club, and our members pay a hefty fee to belong. Every member is carefully vetted, and we have strict rules of conduct. Any funny business and you’re out. No warnings, no second chances. If someone acts inappropriately or disrespectfully, they’re gone forever.”

She wanted to put on a good front, to appear offended and demand he escort her outside and summon her car, but who was she kidding? She wasn’t a prude. Hell, most people probably considered her a promiscuous tramp, so rather than putting on an act, she glanced around again, this time trying to see the club through Lucas’s eyes.

His earlier comment about
doing the best they could
with the interior made sense now. There was only so much they could do to maintain the integrity of a prestigious theater when turning the building into a sex club—
correction, kink club
—but they’d done a great job of preserving the architecture of the interior walls. They even kept the side boxes intact, and… She squinted to see in the darkness. If she wasn’t mistaken, there were people in a few of them, so they were still functional.

As for the club itself, Lucas was right. It wasn’t dirty or sleazy. The floors were polished and the bar’s tabletops gleamed in the ambient lighting. The clientele was nicely dressed—at least the ones wearing clothes, and even the ones who weren’t wearing much still appeared… tasteful. She’d never thought about what a sex club would be like, but she found nothing about Pandora’s nasty or revolting. If she hadn’t been so caught off guard, she would be intrigued. However, given the circumstances, she was mostly confused.

“Why did you bring me here, Lucas?”

God, was DESPERATE LOSER stamped on her forehead? After Logan left, Lucas spent a tremendous amount of time and effort looking out for her. Was he still trying to somehow make things right and felt so sorry for her that he brought her here in hopes of fixing her up with someone?

“I told you. This is my safe haven. A place I worked hard to build, someplace I’m really proud of, and I wanted you to see it.” When she stared him down, he nodded in a conciliatory manner and said, “Okay, I also thought you would have more fun here than spending the evening alone in your hotel room.”

Her eyes narrowed as she crossed her arms. “What if I had a hot date planned and I canceled it to come here with you?”

Looking more bored than contrite, he said, “Am I wrong?”

She huffed as she dropped her arms to her sides and turned away from him. “No.”

His soft touch on her chin, forcing her to turn to him, startled her. “I know how much you struggled after Logan left, and I have the feeling you’ve never gotten over him or moved on.”

He hadn’t asked a question, so she felt no need to verify what he apparently already knew.

Of course, Lucas wasn’t one to let things go, so he cocked a brow and pushed the issue. “Am I right?”

Gah, the bastard was infuriating. She wanted to rail against his accusation. To call him delusional and wave her hands in the air for emphasis as she announced she’d moved on years ago. She wanted to stand tall and proud as she informed him she
never
thought about Logan. But as she looked into his green eyes, the ones peering into her soul, she found it impossible to utter a single word. Instead, she swallowed roughly, then jerked her chin out of his grasp and turned away.

“Lizbeth, look at me.”

His tone was soft and gentle, almost imploring, but she didn’t want to look at him. She didn’t want him to see how much talk of Logan still hurt.

“Look. At. Me.”

This time his voice was strong and demanding, so with nostrils flaring like a cornered bull, she turned on him. Long gone was the mask of pleasant perfection she showed the world. Lucas wanted the truth? Then he could have it. She’d show him the cold, ugly truth that lay deep within. She wasn’t happy. She hadn’t moved on. She was the miserable, lonely woman he thought, and she hoped like hell he was happy for having unearthed that nugget of truth. “What do you want from me, Lucas?”

“All I want is for you to trust me.” His tone was back to being soft and gentle, his eyes understanding as he pressed his hands to the sides of her shoulders and shook her slightly. “Trust that what you’re looking for can be found inside these walls.”

Oh, how she wished that were true. She’d give anything to fill the gaping hole in her chest. To find someone who loved and cherished her the way Logan had. But after fifteen years of searching and too many to count failed attempts at finding someone who might come close, she knew Lucas would be disappointed.

She cast a sideways glance at the door and considered making a run for it. But then what? Go back to her hotel and spend the night throwing herself a massive pity party? What did she have to lose by sticking around? She doubted she’d find anyone she wanted to hook up with, but for whatever reason, Lucas had gone to a lot of trouble to get her here, so the least she could do was linger and have a drink.

With a heavy sigh, she conceded to stay. “Okay. You win.”

His quick grin showed a slash of perfect white teeth. Then he wrapped his arm around her shoulders and turned toward the bar. “Fantastic. Come and meet Jason, my number one bartender.”

“Oh my God.” She stopped walking, forcing him to stop with her. “You really are setting me up with your hot bartender.”

His brows dropped into a dark V of confusion. “Uhhh, no, that wasn’t my plan.” He narrowed his eyes and the corner of his mouth lifted. “How do you know he’s hot?”

“Only a fool would have a non-attractive bartender in a sex club. And you, Lucas Steele, are no fool.”