Читать книгу Club V - Jessa James - Страница 10

The train ride into the city the next evening was long and unfamiliar. I could have driven but that would have just been a nightmare. I had found a subway map on my phone and was referring to it every once in a while to make sure I didn’t miss my stop. Unwilling to be mistaken for a tourist, I held my head high and tried to give off an air of knowing what I was doing, even though I was a little afraid to be traveling to the city on my own. It wasn’t something I did much of and though I felt very confident in my own abilities, I couldn’t let my guard slip and discount the kind of crime that women sometimes experienced on public transit.

It was a rude reminder a few stops down the line, when an older man got on the train and stood in front of my seat, his crotch almost in my face. I got up and moved down the train only to find him close at my heels. Uncertain of his intentions—whether pervy or just downright criminal—I stood next to another woman and watched the man as he stopped and stared at me, a wide, gold-toothed grin spreading across his face.

It had been a mistake to get on the train already dressed for work. Fishnets, heels, and a miniskirt spelled one thing to people on the train and I just hoped that I looked high end if they were going to make their assumptions. For the duration of the ride I ignored the unwanted attention and finally reached my stop, hopping up and rushing out the doors, along the platform, and up the steps to the street level.

Club V was only a few blocks away from the subway stop and I made it there in almost no time without any further issues from people I met on the street. This Club V, much like the one back at home, was understated from the outside. It seemed to be more of an issue of discretion here though, as many of their clients were actually elite members of society. Sure, back home we had our own and often entertained men that were known to be part of mob families, but here they entertained actors, diplomats, members of the news media, and politicians who were in town making the rounds on various news outlets.

Club V NYC was in what had at one point been a textile factory. It was two stories and each story was slightly exaggerated in height, with the tall windows so common to factories built over a hundred years ago. Most of these windows appeared to be blacked out from the inside to maintain the ambiance Club V was known for, but the beauty of the old building was rather stunning from the outside. Other than the words “CLUB V” on an engraved brass plate near the front door, a person would never know what happened behind these walls. I had a feeling many still didn’t, because you couldn’t use Google to find out much about this place. I knew because I had tried many times before I took the initial job offer over a year before.

I made my way around the side and pressed a button on the employee entrance.

“Yes?” A voice rang out over an intercom.

“Umm…hi. I’m Samara, Samara Tanza. From the New Jersey location. I’m here to bartend for the evening.”

There was a pause and for a moment I wondered if I was going to be turned away and dreaded the long train ride back home.

“Right, right. I’ll buzz you in.”

There was a buzz and a click and I was able to open the heavy door that stood between me and the inside of Club V. It was so heavy that it shut behind me quickly and hard, pushing me inside the small foyer. It was total blackness for a moment and I had to give my eyes a second to adjust to the absence of light. After a few seconds it was clear that it wasn’t truly dark inside, only dim and especially so in this small area of the club.

A woman in a short, skin-tight red bandage dress appeared as if from nowhere and smiled at me, offering her hand in greeting.

“Samara…it’s a delight to meet you. I’m Elle, the director of staffing here. Why don’t you follow me. Jake wanted to see you before you were sent to orientation with one of our lead bartenders.”

I wasn’t sure who Jake was, but assumed that he was the NYC version of Stew and so I followed Elle down the hall to one of the offices.

“Jake is one of our co-owners. He just wanted to do a little run down of a few company policies and let you know what the expectations are here at the NYC location. I’m sure it’s all mostly what you’ve been used to in New Jersey, but there may be a few differences. We pride ourselves on maintaining a very exclusive list of members and do everything we can to preserve their privacy. I think you’ll understand what I’m getting at there.”

I nodded, then realizing she couldn’t see me as I followed her, so I spoke up. “Oh, right. Of course. Yes, we never talk about any of our patrons outside of the club.”

“That’s great,” Elle said. I could hear the smile in her voice. “I’m sure you’ll enjoy getting to know Jake. Here’s his office.”

The office was on the far corner and the door opened to reveal some of those massively tall windows I had seen from the outside, only these weren’t covered and the late evening light filtered into the dim office.

“Jake, this is Samara,” Elle said. She smiled and shut the door behind her, leaving me standing there as Jake turned around slowly in his office chair and stood to greet me.

He grinned as he stood there with his hands stuffed in his front pockets, the light gray suit he wore was well-tailored and fit him perfectly. He was a tall, stunning picture of a man with jet black hair, full lips, olive skin and eyes that hovered somewhere between blue and gray.

I was silent and realized I had been staring, and that he had been also. Unsure of who was expected to speak first, I finally spoke up.

“Hi…Jake.”

He nodded. “I like to see all the new people we bring on board. Just to get an idea of who is new on the floor and who might need some assistance.” He moved around his desk and came forward to greet me, reaching out a hand to shake mine. “Samara? Lovely name.” His words were like butter. I was sure but it sounded like he had the slightest hint of an accent and that made this already incredible looking hunk of a man even more attractive.

“Thank you,” I said, trying to play it as cool as I could. If everyone around this place looked half as good as Jake did, it was going to be a long, but fun night full of eye candy.

“I hope you’ll enjoy your time here. And not that I am looking to poach someone from one of our other locations, but you can be certain that someone of your calibre is always welcome here at Club V NYC. I’ve heard what a great bartender you’ve been in Jersey and you come highly recommended.”

I felt my face flush. “Well, Stew is really kind. I’ve enjoyed working at Club V over the past year and couldn’t imagine a better place for myself.”

Jake rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “What are your long-term goals regarding employment with us?”

No one had ever asked me that question before, other than Stew when he promoted me to bartender after I had been serving for a few months.

“I’ve really enjoyed bartending. To be honest with you it’s the thing that I’m doing to pay for my college tuition. It’s been great for that. The tips are wonderful and I’ve been able to pay for everything myself so far, without any help from my parents.”

Something seemed to flash across Jake’s face. “How old are you?”

“Nineteen,” I answered, not missing a beat.

“Wow…I guess I just assumed you were a little older than that. Oh well, still legal.”

The phrase jarred me and I was sure my eyes went wide.

“I mean…legal to bartend in both New Jersey and New York,” he added with a laugh. “But seriously, did you ever want to move beyond that here?”

It was dawning on me what Jake, one of the co-owners of Club V, was asking me. This guy not only owned this club, he was part owner in all the clubs across the United States and now there was one in every state.

Calm yourself, Samara. He asks every single woman who darkens this door the same question. Now answer him.

“You mean…am I interested in working the floor?”

Working the floor. It was what we called it. It was what the women who did it called it, rather than being too blunt about it. ‘I work the floor at Club V’ was something you could say in public and sound respectable, when the truth was that working the floor meant that you were paid for sex with one or many men, with varying degrees of BDSM and other acts mixed in.

“That’s what I’m asking you, yes.”

I would be lying if I said that I hadn’t considered working the floor before. I knew the kind of money the girls made and it was so tempting. While they had contracts with the club, they were also allowed to carry on ‘professional relationships’ with the most elite club members outside of the club, with Club V acting as a sort of intermediary or broker in the dealings. That part was all hush-hush. What went on in the club was private and everyone knew it. No one spoke of it outside of the club. Members paid high prices to keep this out of the news.

What all the employees knew was that it was something skirting several different legal lines and that all it would take was one single bust and the wrong thing on the books and the entire thing would be up in smoke. It was organized prostitution on a massive scale, or at least that was how law enforcement and the government would see it if they ever decided to dive deep enough. My guess had always been that Club V had its hooks deep enough in some big fish and that was what prevented any of the locations from being raided.

But was I interested in doing that sort of work myself? I knew we were allowed to set our own comfort levels. I could have been out there on the floor doing nothing but sitting on laps, a few kisses here and there, maybe a hand job from time to time. But I knew that the women who got into it planning only to go so far rarely maintained their boundaries. It was tempting once you got out there, especially when you were being wined and dined by one of the finest men you had ever laid eyes on. When he was telling you over and over again how much he wanted you. That he wanted to take you back to one of the rooms, spread your legs, and dive head first into your pussy. It made me tingle just thinking about it.

Of course I had considered it. And I might have done it if I wasn’t still a virgin. For me that had been the linchpin. I wasn’t going to give myself up just for that. The money was good, but it wasn’t that good. I didn’t need that cash that badly.

I shook my head at Jake. “No, I’m not interested in working the floor right now.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Not right now, so perhaps in the future?”

I smiled and lowered my eyes slightly. “There are a few things in my personal life I’d like to get sorted before I consider something like that.”

Jake nodded and regarded me thoughtfully, moving closer to me. I breathed in sharply, realizing we were only inches apart. I wasn’t sure if it was the effect of the club or if I was truly attracted to this man or some combination of the two. He reached out a hand and brushed my hair away from my face.

“Well, keep it in mind if you are ever interested. As far as I’m concerned, there is a standing offer here for you.”

“I appreciate that.” His hand rested lightly on my shoulder and I could feel my heart racing.

“There’s only one thing,” he said, frowning and looking down at my blouse. “Your buttons. Do you mind?”

Oh god, had I forgotten to button one of the buttons on my shirt? Was that why I had been getting all the attention on the train? Maybe I had been putting on a peep show for all the riders.

“N-no…” I stammered.

Deftly, Jake unbuttoned two of the buttons on my blouse, opening it up to reveal an ample amount of cleavage and a hint of the scarlet lace of my bra. Then he removed his hand and backed away politely.

“Club V NYC standards—top four buttons must be unbuttoned. You can head back down the hall and to your right. Celeste will be there to show you around the bar and get you settled.”

I left Jake’s office stunned. I wasn’t sure what I had thought was going to happen, but him unbuttoning my blouse hadn’t been it. I didn’t think there had been anything truly sexual or inappropriate about it. Honestly, brushing my hair back away from my face was probably worse than the unbuttoning itself. The guy had given me no indication he was attracted to me. The more I thought about it as I walked back down the dimly lit hallway, the more I started to believe that this was probably the line that every girl who walked through the doors of this club to work was fed. Of course they would rather have a young woman on the floor rather than behind the bar.

And my age. That was the kicker. I looked older, so I would not have pulled in the crowd that are looking for the younger ones, but knowing that I was only 19 would really do it for some of these guys. Plus the virgin thing…I made a mental note to keep that to myself. Suzy knew, but Suzy was my best friend and she was back home. There was no need for anyone at this particular establishment to know that small detail about my personal life.

The bar was right where Jake said it would be and I found Celeste standing there looking over an inventory sheet.

“Hi, Celeste?”

She looked up from her clipboard and appeared only slightly annoyed to have been interrupted. I was quickly able to verify that 4 buttons unbuttoned was indeed the Club V NYC standard.

“You must be Samara. Welcome to my bar.” She waved her hand in a sweeping motion. “It is my bar. You’ll need to remember that. I know you’re up to your own standard back home and I’m sure that’s a high one and that’s fine. But keep in mind that this is my place, I rule the roost, and while I’m happy to help you out at first, you are here to assist me. It’s not the other way around.”

I nodded. “Got it.”

She gave me a once over. “I see you’ve met with Jake and he’s apprised you of our button policy.” She rolled her eyes. “He’s harmless for the most part. I’m starting to wonder if it’s an inside joke between him and the other owners. Anyway, as long as you aren’t ready to run right out of the place and file a sexual harassment law suit, I’m going to assume you’re ready to start?”

“Yup, ready to go.”

Celeste put the clipboard down. She had a short and serious looking bob and I could tell that everything about this woman was no nonsense.

“So, our setup is pretty standard. I don’t think you’ll have any trouble behind the bar. We get really busy on Saturday nights and with the ad campaign we’re expecting about twice the usual number. I’m not entirely sure that they thought this all the way through, but we’re going to have to manage.”

Celeste sounded exasperated. “Along with all of this, we’ve also had a few of our girls move up to floor work here on the main floor as well as upstairs. Do you work the second floor at your club?”

I shook my head. “Not anymore. I used to work it a little off and on when I first started.”

“Same sort of setup here, if you do end up going up there. Main open air lounge, a few private spaces, and the sky bar.”

The sky bar was one of the few things that drew attention to Club V. I wasn’t sure how it would be set up at this location with the kind of architecture the building had going on, but back home the sky bar was a bar that opened up onto a balcony. Plenty of people came to the front door requesting admittance, thinking they could just pop up and have a drink. It seemed to be good advertising and members were far enough away from street level that they were still able to maintain some privacy.

“Overall we have the same basic setup across our various locations, only New York is the biggest. You’ll find it may be a little wilder here than you are used to and I don’t know if you’ve been told to be on your guard, but you should. I wouldn’t say people here are aggressive, but sometimes they get into a state and aren’t paying attention to who is bar staff and who is working the floor, although it should be pretty clear.”

I knew what she meant by that. There were floor workers back home, but it wasn’t the bulk of the business. It would be too risky to make Club V what boiled down to a brothel. Most people met there for sex. It was more about being in the open with it and finding people who wanted to engage in the same activity as you did. The floor workers were just a perk and part of what kept the place entertaining.

A crowd of businessmen approached the bar then and Celeste’s entire demeanor changed. “Gentlemen! What can we get you guys this evening?” Her smile was coy and she gave one of the guys a wink as they all sidled up to the bar. Taking their orders we both began mixing drinks and she turned to me to speak softly.

“You’re going to do fine. This place is bigger, the people are more important, but you’re here to do the same thing.” She looked out over the crowd. “But brace yourself. I think it’s going to be a bumpy night.”

“Cece? We’re out of vermouth.” One of the bartenders from the other end of the bar called out and it took me a minute to realize he was speaking to Celeste. It had been a very busy night with lots of martini orders and now at midnight it looked like we were out of a crucial component.

“Check the stock room,” she replied, trying to keep a smiling face for the patrons in front of her. She was a wiz at the bar and it was no wonder that the men liked to get as close to her as they could. She had the sort of sassy wit that challenged them in conversation, but she was completely out of reach. I found out over the course of the evening that Celeste was happily married to her wife and they had two beautiful children.

“Nope, that’s where I got this bottle.” The bartender held up and waved around an empty vermouth bottle. “It was the last one.”

“Goddammit,” Celeste cursed under her breath. “Make sure we order more on Monday. Samara…” she turned to me and narrowed her eyes. “I think I know where we have some extra stock, but it’ll be in one of the storage rooms on the second floor. I would call up there and have one of them run it down, but they never answer the phone at the sky bar. Go back to the storage area, take the freight elevator up to the second floor, and it’ll deposit you in a hallway. Go right and then left and then right again and there will be a door on your left. Check there for the vermouth. And if there isn’t any there just go steal a bottle or two from the sky bar.”

“Got it,” I said as I squeezed past the rest of the bar staff and headed back to the storage area. The freight elevator was easy enough to find and fired up when I pressed the buttons. It let me out just where Celeste said it would, but by the time the thing reached the landing I had already forgotten the exact directions that Celeste had given me. There was a right and then a left and a door on the left?

I made my way down the hall, turned left, headed down that hallway and instead of coming to any doors I came to a hall on the right and one on the left. Ahead of me I could keep going and I would be on the main part of the second floor. I took a left down the hall, away from the pulsing beats the DJ was churning out, and eventually came to a door. It wasn’t on the left though, which confused me, but I opened it and stepped into darkness. It sure looked like a supply room.

I felt along the wall for a light switch, but found nothing. I had my phone in my pocket which I could use as a flashlight if I needed to, but I felt out in front of me to see what exactly I was facing.

My hands touched velvet and went right through the curtain. Suddenly I realized that wherever I was, it was much more spacious than a supply room. When I pushed past the curtain and into a dimly lit area, I could tell that I had definitely taken a wrong turn, but I was too shocked by what I saw to turn around and run.