City of Sin (22 page)

Bee

We were standing outside an unmarked building.

"I'm actually getting hungry for lunch," Mason
said. "There's this place down the street that's really good. What do you
say?"

"Is it really that bad?" I asked. He looked upset.
No.
He looked guilty.

"I don't know why we're here," Mason said. "I
told you I was done with this. I wish you would just trust me."

"It's not really that." I folded my arms in front
of my chest. "When Patrick broke up with me, he made it seem like it was
my fault. Like I wasn't giving him what he needed."

"Do you still have feelings for him?"

"No." My voice sounded small, but I meant it.
"I just need to know."

He looked a little relieved. "Patrick is a dick. That's
all you need to know."

"Please, Mason."

He sighed and tapped three times on the door. There was a
buzzing sound and a little box next to the door lit up. Mason pulled out his
phone and looked down at something before pressing the button on the box.
"Sunset," he said into the small speaker and then let go of the
button. He put his phone back in his pocket.

A huge bald man in jeans and a black t-shirt appeared at the
door.

"She's with me," said Mason.

"Did she sign the forms?"

Forms?

"I'll vouch for her," Mason said.

The bouncer looked me up and down. His eyes made my skin feel
cold. "She doesn't work for the press?" he said.

"No." Mason sounded annoyed.

The bouncer stared at me for another minute. "Fine. If
there's a leak, it's on you, Mason."

"She's not going to tell anyone." Mason looked at
me. "Right?"

"I won't," I said.
Geez, what the hell is behind
those doors?

"Good to see you," the bouncer said and slapped
Mason on the back. "It's been awhile."

"Yeah." Mason looked back at me again. "I've
been busy." He lowered his eyebrows for a second but then looked away. He
seemed sad.

Had he missed coming here? Or was he sad that I didn't trust
him? Of course I couldn't trust him. I didn't know what weird stuff was behind
those doors. And Mason had introduced Patrick to whatever it was. I wasn't
trying to vilify Mason. But I felt nauseous standing there. I didn't care why
Patrick had cheated on me anymore. I cared about why Mason was going to cheat
on me. Because he would. Maybe not anytime soon, but he would. Maybe I could
prevent that. I wanted to be able to give him what he wanted. Because I was
falling for him. No matter what I told myself. I could see myself loving him. I
could see a future with him. And it terrified me.

I wasn't backing down now. I was here. And I was determined
to see what was behind those doors.

"Are we good to go then?" I asked.

The bouncer smiled. "She has a lot to learn." He
winked at Mason.

"This isn't a training session," Mason said, and
walked past the bouncer.

Training session?
I felt even more nauseous. Did Mason
bring women here to show them what men wanted? Did he practice with them? How
many woman had he actually slept with? I took a deep breath and followed Mason
as he opened up the second set of doors.

It wasn't what I expected at all. I stopped in my tracks and
looked around. It was just a hallway, but it was beautiful. It reminded me a
little of The Plaza Hotel. Everything was painted black but there were gold
designs hung on the walls. Everything seemed to shimmer. I could hear music,
but all I could see were doors. Tons of doors. And the hallways curved on both
sides like it looped around in a circle.

"Mason, is that you?!"

I turned my head to the sound of a females' voice. A woman in
a tight, silvery dress had just come out of one of the rooms.

Mason didn't say anything.

But the woman walked over as quickly as she could in her
heels and wrapped her arms around him.

Mason kept his hands to the side, not touching her.

"Mason," she pulled back and put her hands on the
collar of his jacket. "Thank you. I owe you." She leaned forward
again and whispered something in his ear. Mason's body seemed to stiffen.

I wanted to punch her in her face.

Mason cleared his throat, but the girl didn't let go of his
collar. "We need a private room," he said.

"Private?" The girl glanced over at me. "Are
you sure?" She trailed her fingers down his abs and stopped at his belt.
"I have something new to show you."

He grabbed her wrist so she couldn't unbuckle his belt.
"We're just here to observe."

The girl frowned and turned away from him. She opened up a
cabinet, but I wasn't interested in what she was doing. I was too busy staring
at Mason. He wasn't looking at the girl, but he wasn't looking at me either.
Maybe it was a mistake coming here. He seemed tense and upset. I just needed to
know what was behind those doors.

The girl slipped a key into Mason's hand. "Room 16. You
have my number if you change your mind." She looked at me and winked.

Fuck you.

Mason grabbed my hand and pulled me down the hallway, away
from the strangers.

"Did you train her?" I whispered.

Mason didn't say anything. Instead, he stopped in front of a
door and slid the key into the lock.

"Mason?"

He sighed. "Yes, I did."

"Did you have sex with her?"

"No." He didn't look like he was lying, but his
face was strained. He opened up the door and I followed him in. The walls were
the same as the ones in the hall, but the room was more dimly lit. There were
leather seats and a coffee table where a bottle of champagne and glasses were
sitting. I wanted it to be gross. But it seemed classy somehow. Like this was
where rich men went to screw around on their wives. The only thing that gave
away where we were was a stripper pole in the middle of the room.

I turned around. Mason was already sitting on the couch. I
looked down at his lap. "Did you do other intimate things together?"

"Fuck, Bee. What do you want me to say? I let her suck
my dick? Fine. I feel like I'm on trial here."

"Who is she? Where did you even meet?"

He sighed. "She's an ex cheerleader. I met her at a bar.
She doesn't mean anything to me. She's just some girl."

Just some girl. Like me?
"What did she whisper in
your ear?"

"Nothing important."

Oh God, why did I come here?
I turned away from him
and stared at the opposite side of the room. There was a gold curtain. It must
separate us from wherever the music was coming from. Maybe it was a naked band.
Like a weird groupie thing?

I wanted to think this place was disgusting and horrible. But
it made sense that Patrick had come here. It was fancy. It was better than our
small, dingy apartment. It was better than anything I could give him. Better
than me. I never wore short, sparkly dresses for him. Maybe I had stopped
trying. Maybe Patrick had been right.

"Can we please just go now?" Mason said.
"You've seen it."

"How do you get money doing this?"

Mason sighed and ran his hand down his face. "I get a
finder's fee for new recruits. The better they are, the more money I get."

"Where do you find women to bring here?"

"Bars. One night stands. I don't know. Why does any of
this matter? I haven't done it since we've met."

"And what about the guys you bring here to enjoy these
girls you've trained? How do you make money doing that?"

Mason laughed. "My clients pay me to find them the
hottest new places. And to make sure their identities are kept safe."

"And your father pays you to take out his new
hires?"

"No. I use his new hires as a way to find new clients.
My dad doesn't even know about it."

"He doesn't know about your sex ring?"

"It's not a sex ring."

"I don't understand." I sat down next to him,
putting enough space between us so that we weren't touching. "Why do you
do it?"

Mason opened his mouth, but then closed it again. He leaned
back in his seat. "Because I'm good at it."

"Do you like it more than advertising?"

"It's a hobby, not a career."

"That's not what I asked."

"It's just a means to an end. You know I'm trying to
start my own ad agency. I need the cash."

"Why, because you're not speaking to your parents?"

"I'm trying to make something of myself, Bee."

"Here?"

"What do you want me to say? That I'm good at fucking?
That I know when a girl would be good at this job depending on how skilled she
is in bed? That I can tell how loose a woman is by talking to her for less than
a minute?" He ran his hand through his hair. "I'm trying. I really
am. I haven't been here in weeks."

"I didn't ask you to not come."

"You're right. You didn't." He looked hurt.

"Are you mad at me?"

"Why are we here, Bee?"

"I told you. I wanted to see."

"You know what? Yes. I'm mad at you. We have a good
thing. Why are you trying to ruin it?"

"A good thing? All you want me for is sex."

Mason laughed. "Is that really what you think? If I just
wanted sex, I'd come here."

"That's what I'm afraid of."

"I'm not Patrick."

"Aren't you just like him though? Didn't he learn about
all of this from you?"

"If you're still hung up on him, maybe you should be
yelling at him instead of me, Bee."

"I'm over him."

"Clearly you aren't. You didn't want to come here for
me. You came here for him."

"Mason, that's not..."

"I don't want to talk about your ex. If you want to see
it, then see it." He pointed to the curtain.

"I'm sorry."

He stood up. "You came here to see. I'm not sure what
you're waiting for." He walked over to the curtain and pulled it back.

There was a stage in the middle of the circular room. Women
in much less than silver dresses were on the stage. Half of them were topless
and there were some on stripper poles. And they all had necklaces which held
medallions with numbers on them. Two girls were doing a little more than making
out at the end of the stage. Chandeliers hung from the ceiling. Some curtains
were open and others closed around the room.

I was pretty sure there weren't couples talking behind the
closed curtains like Mason and I were. A girl wearing a silver dress like the
one that had greeted Mason walked passed us with a tray in her hand. Maybe you
just needed to give blowjobs to get a waitress gig here.

A different woman in a silver dress went up to the two girls
making out. She said something to them and they stood up, holding hands and
followed the silver dressed woman to one of the rooms with an open curtain. One
of the girls straddled the man sitting on the couch before the curtain was
closed.

I turned around and looked at Mason. I was surprised to see
that he was staring at me instead of the naked woman that were only a few feet
away from us.

"They're numbered?" I asked.

"So you can get the one you want."

"That's disgusting."

"They're all clean."

"That' not what I meant." I turned back to look at
the stage, but before I did I noticed a box on the wall by the curtain. It
looked like a call box outside of an apartment. I lifted my finger. "Is
this how you..."

"You really don't want to touch that," Mason said,
grabbing my hand before I could push one of the buttons.

I gulped. He immediately dropped my hand and folded his arms
across his chest. He was right. Seeing this was enough. I knew what would
happen if I selected one of those buttons. Dirty whore sex.

I looked back at the stage. "Which number would you
choose?"

Mason sighed. He came over to the curtain and leaned against
the wall, but he continued to stare at me. "I'm sick of standing still. I
don't want this life anymore. I want you."

"I want you too."

Mason laughed. "No, you don't."

"If we really have a shot at whatever this is, I needed
to see this."

"So that you'll resent me? Give me a break." Mason
turned his head to the women on the stage. "We both know what you really
want to ask me. So just ask it."

He was right. I had to know. "Who would Patrick
choose?"

"Number twelve. That's his type."

I looked back at the stage. She had long dark hair. Her skin
was perfectly tanned. I wanted her tits to be saggy and for her ass to have
stretch marks, but that wasn't the case. She was perfect. And she didn't look
anything like me. I ran my thumb along the spot where my engagement ring once
was. I wasn't Patrick's type. He liked women like number twelve. Why was he
ever even with me? That's why he never looked at me the way Mason did. He
wasn't even attracted to me.

"Mason, I'm sorry."

He didn't respond.

I turned around but the room was empty, the door ajar.
"Mason?" I ran out of the room and down the hallway.
"Mason?!" I yelled as I pushed open the doors.

"I guess it didn't work out for you?" the bouncer
said.

"What?"

"You know, if you need more practice..."

I felt like I couldn't breathe. "Excuse me," I said
and walked past him and out the front door. Snow had started falling and there
was already a coating on the ground. I pulled my jacket tightly around myself.
I wasn't expecting to leave here alone. Mason and I had walked here together
through Central Park. I had made a huge mistake. I shouldn't have come here. I
should have trusted him.

I pulled my phone out of my purse and pressed on his name. I
held my phone up to my ear but it went straight to voicemail.
Shit.
Maybe he had decided to walk home?

I ran across the street and down the steps into the park. The
ground was getting sleek in spots, but I couldn't stop running. I needed to
catch up to him. I needed to tell him I was sorry.