Three Simple Rules (The Blindfold Club #1) (3 page)

I sat in the stylist chair. My long, neglected hair had been trimmed into a swing cut, so it hung longest in the front and brushed just over my shoulders. Joseph chose a deep coffee color, and while I was seated, my hair drenched in hair dye, he presented me with a four-paged contract.

“Read it and let me know if you have questions,” he said. “I don’t want you to sign it today. Consider everything and make sure it’s what you want. If it is, I’ll need it back by Thursday.”

“If I do this, when does it happen?” I asked.

“Saturday.”

Oh, god. So soon. But maybe that was good. It gave me less time to talk myself out of it, and I’d need the money quickly if Logan were going to keep it off the books. “Do I get paid right away?”

“Normally no, but Payton told me you’re in a spot, so I’ll be understanding.”

“Thank you.” I figured it couldn’t hurt to be gracious.

He gave me a startled smile. “No, honey, thank you.” Then he left me alone to study the contract.

It wasn’t written in legalese. I would offer my body for sex or to fulfill whatever other desire the customer had, and in return I would receive money, minus a percentage going to the club. How many clients I chose to service was my decision. The first page included what was required of me, which wasn’t much – arrive on time to the specified location, recently bathed, clean of any drugs, and not intoxicated. The percentage I received would be calculated when I returned my “willing list.”

The “willing list” was a menu of what I would allow clients to do to me. I didn’t think I was naïve until I scanned the two columns on the second page, and one-third of the things I’d never heard of. I’d have to ask Payton to explain them to me later.

The last two pages were more about security. Since the ‘employee’ would be restrained and blindfolded, there would be someone from the club with them until a deal had been reached, and there were security cameras. Which meant they’d be watching during the sex. It also outlined what would happen if a client became aggressive, or if at any point the employee wanted to stop. It was both reassuring and disturbing.

I hadn’t really thought about how dangerous it was, what Payton had been doing. She said she felt safe, and honestly, I didn’t ask a whole lot about it because it made me squeamish. Plus, she enjoyed it and I believed she knew what she was doing.

“Questions?” he asked when it was clear I’d finished.

“No, not right now.”

“Okay, I’d like to stick around and see the new you, but I should get going.” He handed me a card that was similar to the ones Payton passed out when trying to attract new clients. This one had a phone number printed on it instead of a web address. “Don’t hesitate to call if you need anything.”

I will admit the hair color and new cut looked great. But I barely got to enjoy it because as soon as I was done the stylist whisked me into the back, into the same room I’d knelt on the floor ninety minutes ago. My first Brazilian wax was excruciating, and I viewed it as excellent warm-up punishment for the stupid mistake I’d made. I’d never get a legal disclaimer wrong again.

Payton drove me home in her new black Jaguar, explaining the most unsavory items from the list like she was explaining something simple and not how a guy would want to urinate on me.

“I don’t think I can do this,” I said, feeling sick to my stomach.

“Just check the stuff you can handle. Half the stuff on my list no one’s even tried. Most guys just want to have sex. They come in the door with all these elaborate plans, but when they see you all tied up, waiting for them . . . it goes right out the window.” A wicked smile bloomed on her face. “I had one guy finish in less than two minutes. I probably should have given him his money back.”

“But you didn’t.”

“Rules are rules. It’s not my fault I’m that good.”

My eyes fell back to the list. “What’s Greek?”

“Anal.” Even though she was driving, she saw my pen move past that, leaving it blank. “Evie, you’ve got to check that box.”

“No way, no.” I capped the pen and put it in my purse. “It’s gross.” The irony was not lost on me. Most people would say having sex with a total stranger for money was gross.

“Get past your hang-ups. You might like it,” Payton said. “And seriously, you’ll never make enough in one night without it. Unless you want to do more than one guy.”

My shoulders slumped. The idea of one stranger was bad enough, but multiple? “Oh, god, no.”

“You’ve got, like, three things checked on that list. How are you going to know if you like stuff if you don’t try?”

“I think I’ll be trying enough new things that night, don’t you?”

She nodded, knowing when to stop pushing.

On Wednesday my nerves were wound tight as a spring. I feared the slightest push would snap the coil and I’d break apart. I used my lunch break to get tested and prove I was free of any STDs. Otherwise I stayed hidden at my desk, desperate to focus on anything other than Saturday.

The unsigned contract was tucked in my purse, whispering to me. I felt like I couldn’t escape, and yet the dirtiest part of me was excited. The ship would be leaving soon, and I was going to have to decide once and for all whether or not to get on board. I’d already made the decision, though, hadn’t I, in the back room of that salon? The memory made my stomach clench. As if on cue, my personal email chimed on my workstation. I thought it would be another daily pep talk from Payton. It was from Joseph, checking in. The email had the logo of the club in the corner, the same from the card, a classy black and white diamond shape with a modern font. Elegant. If it had been from anywhere else I would have added it to my inspiration folder.

“Planning on doing any work today?” Logan snapped. My cursor clicked the email closed as fast as possible. Of course he’d catch me in the one minute I’d taken a break. I spun in my chair, my face hot with embarrassment.

“I was working. Did you need something?” I said, desperate to sound normal and not guilty.

He towered over my chair, his face hard and cold. “The printer overnighted the sample to me. It’s on my desk.” He turned and went without a word, expecting me to follow.

He could have picked up the phone and called me into his office, but that wasn’t Logan’s style. He liked to float around the department and keep people on target. Jamie, three cubes to my right, liked to surf Pinterest all day, rather than work.

I’d only been in Logan’s office a handful of times, so each visit made me uncomfortable. He’d taken the management position a year ago, but hadn’t done much to decorate. Maybe he didn’t like the distraction of artwork on his walls.

He held out the proof for us both to examine.

“It was good work,” he said, “other than the sloppy mistake.” Well, if that wasn’t a backhanded compliment I don’t know what was. “If it had been anyone else, I would have let them go. You have to know you’re the best one out there.”

It was by far the nicest thing he’d ever said, and the power of his statement left me stunned. Yet he seemed completely unaware.

“When will you have the money?”

That brought reality crashing back down on me. “Saturday night.”

“Saturday night?” he asked, skeptical.

“I meant Monday,” I said quickly.

He gave me an odd look, but pressed forward. “Good. I’ll get the prints released to Player’s this afternoon.” He rounded his desk and dropped down into his chair, and when his attention went to his computer screen, it was like I ceased to exist to him.

I carried the new proof back to my desk and looked at it with bittersweet eyes. This was my art, paid for with my own money . . . well, with the money I’d make. There was no turning back, I told myself, when I hit “send” on a response to Joseph’s email, letting him know I’d signed the contract and would drop it off tonight. He emailed me back almost immediately and said to bring it with me on Saturday night.

It was done, and I was done worrying about this. I liked sex, so maybe I wouldn’t hate this. Hopefully.

Payton was on time, as usual, but I was running behind. As usual. She sat on the couch in the living area and watched me put makeup on through the open doorway of my cramped bathroom.

“I don’t know why you do this to yourself.”

She was talking about Blake, the man I’d been hopelessly in love with for the last year. I ignored her, swiping my lashes with mascara. Blake and I had met our freshman year in Art & Design 101. He was a programmer trying to keep his options open in case he wanted to shift into web design, but thank god he didn’t. He was all left-brain.

I had a boyfriend back then and mistook Blake’s friendliness for just that and not flirting. When my high school long-distance relationship collapsed, I wanted more than a shoulder to cry on from Blake, but he’d started dating someone the week before. Our horrible timing continued through college, through my semester abroad, until we both fell in love our senior year . . . with other people.

We drifted apart for a while, but reconnected when he moved to the city, and it was like no time had passed in our friendship. The longing for him flared back up, stronger than before. But Blake wasn’t single. In fact, I suspected a marriage proposal wasn’t far off in his girlfriend’s future. In spite of everything, I liked her. Amy was geek-chic, a perfect match for him.

“It was nice of Amy to arrange to have her birthday on a Friday.” Payton picked at her nails. “Did you fill out any more boxes on your willing list?”

I paused at her sudden topic change, and then recapped my lipstick. “No.”

“Evie.” She directed a serious look at me through the mirror. “Please, check something else. Anything. I know how it works with the club. They’re already doing you a favor, they’re not going to do any more when it comes to the percentage.”

“Okay.” I wanted her off my back. I didn’t want to think about it, like a patient with an upcoming surgery.

They were already seated at the restaurant, surrounded by a few of Amy’s co-workers I didn’t know, when Payton and I arrived. Blake’s gaze connected with mine from across the room, and my heart beat faster. He was tall and lanky, just a few pounds of muscle short from being ripped. That was Amy’s doing; she’d gotten him hooked on going to the gym. He’d never looked better than he did now. His light brown hair curled over his ears in an effortless look that made me want to put my hands in it. He’d been an adorably cute boy in college, but now he was a flat-out beautiful man.

Fate had been so completely unfair to me. That was what I thought every time I saw him. His amber-colored eyes lit up when I came toward the table.

“Wow, your hair,” he said. “Looks nice.”

“Thanks.” I tried not to blush.

Conversation flowed easily between the group at first, but soon after it split down the center – Amy and her co-workers on one side, and Blake, Payton, and I on the other, although Payton never had much to say. I was surprised she’d agreed to come along. Payton and Blake were always friendly, but they were
my
friends and not friends with each other.

“What made you decide to go dark?” he asked, gesturing to my hair.

A huge grin spread across Payton’s face. “She’s going to be joining me at work.”

That was why she’d wanted to come. She wanted to see the moment when Blake learned what I was going to do.

“What?” I think he stopped breathing.