He didn’t make a move to sit up when I came in but he did smile. “Thank
you Lea.”
The
girl nodded and left closing the door behind her.
He
had brilliant green eyes, they almost appeared to be fake. He smiled and tilted
his head as he spoke, “I was expecting an older woman by the way Mr. Carter
raved about your writing.”
I
shifted nervously but attempted to sound confident when I spoke. I didn’t want
to seem like a young bimbo. “I assure you Mr. Carson I am a very competent
writer.”
He
smiled and it reminded me of the Cheshire cat. It was if he was thinking
something but he wasn’t going to say it. “Please sit.” He indicated a chair across
from him and I looked at it for a second before moving.
I
gathered my courage and walked over and took a seat. “Do you mind if I use a
tape recorder?” I didn’t have to use one but I wanted to make sure I remembered
everything he said. This was an important interview. I needed it to be perfect.
He
smiled, he was very relaxed and at ease with himself and I was pretty sure he
knew I wasn’t. “Of course not, I was informed however that you would not
mention the club specifically and that you would change my name in the
articles.”
I
nodded as I set the recorder up, “That is correct.” I noticed he had long
slender fingers that were perfectly manicured. I was beginning to think he was
gay. If he was gay I would be far more comfortable in his presence.
He
scowled slightly, “I am not gay, if that is what you are thinking.”
I
smiled, “I take it you get that a lot?” I started the recorder trying not to
fumble and look like an idiot.
He
was very elegant and calm as he spoke, “Yes, by outsiders. For some reason if a
man takes care of himself he is automatically gay or weak.”
“By
outsiders you mean people not members of the club?” I was guilty of thinking he
was gay. He just seemed way more at ease and relaxed with himself than any
other straight man I had ever met.
He
took a moment to respond as if he were thinking about something else, “Yes.” He
watched me for a minute and I would have given anything to know what he was
thinking.
I
dove right into the questions hoping he wouldn’t notice the blush creeping across
my cheeks. “Do you try to maintain a specific clientele or is the club open to
anyone to join?”
He
tilted his head and smiled, “If you have the money you can join.”
I
took notes as well so I could reference certain things without having to listen
to the whole recording again. “How much is it to be a member?”
He
smiled playfully, “Are you interested in joining?”
I
smiled and blushed at his suggestion, “I’m afraid not. This is just basic
information for the magazine.”
“Four
thousand dollars a month is the membership fee.” He hesitated for a moment as
he watched me, “You do not agree with the club.” It was more of a statement
then a question.
The
way he would just say what I was thinking was unnerving. I was wondering if my
face gave it away. “My personal opinions do not have a place in the interview.
That is a lot of money so the average Joe would not be able to be a member?” I
pushed ahead hoping to deter him from turning the interview into a personal
conversation.
He
smiled, “It keeps out the riff raff. But your feelings will reflect in the
story being that you are the writer.”
I
continued to attempt to evade his questions. I didn’t really know what I
thought I just knew I wasn’t very comfortable. “Not as much as you think. Now
how long have you been in business?”
He
looked amused, “You are good at deflecting and staying on track, are you
religious is that why you do not agree?”
I
looked at him and responded shifting nervously as I did, “Mr. Carson the
interview is about you not me.”
He
smiled in a way that suggested he was not going to stop bugging me. I was
beginning to think I was amusing him. “Ms. Adams perhaps if you were willing to
share something about
you Lea.”
The
girl nodded and left closing the door behind her.
He
had brilliant green eyes, they almost appeared to be fake. He smiled and tilted
his head as he spoke, “I was expecting an older woman by the way Mr. Carter
raved about your writing.”
I
shifted nervously but attempted to sound confident when I spoke. I didn’t want
to seem like a young bimbo. “I assure you Mr. Carson I am a very competent
writer.”
He
smiled and it reminded me of the Cheshire cat. It was if he was thinking
something but he wasn’t going to say it. “Please sit.” He indicated a chair across
from him and I looked at it for a second before moving.
I
gathered my courage and walked over and took a seat. “Do you mind if I use a
tape recorder?” I didn’t have to use one but I wanted to make sure I remembered
everything he said. This was an important interview. I needed it to be perfect.
He
smiled, he was very relaxed and at ease with himself and I was pretty sure he
knew I wasn’t. “Of course not, I was informed however that you would not
mention the club specifically and that you would change my name in the
articles.”
I
nodded as I set the recorder up, “That is correct.” I noticed he had long
slender fingers that were perfectly manicured. I was beginning to think he was
gay. If he was gay I would be far more comfortable in his presence.
He
scowled slightly, “I am not gay, if that is what you are thinking.”
I
smiled, “I take it you get that a lot?” I started the recorder trying not to
fumble and look like an idiot.
He
was very elegant and calm as he spoke, “Yes, by outsiders. For some reason if a
man takes care of himself he is automatically gay or weak.”
“By
outsiders you mean people not members of the club?” I was guilty of thinking he
was gay. He just seemed way more at ease and relaxed with himself than any
other straight man I had ever met.
He
took a moment to respond as if he were thinking about something else, “Yes.” He
watched me for a minute and I would have given anything to know what he was
thinking.
I
dove right into the questions hoping he wouldn’t notice the blush creeping across
my cheeks. “Do you try to maintain a specific clientele or is the club open to
anyone to join?”
He
tilted his head and smiled, “If you have the money you can join.”
I
took notes as well so I could reference certain things without having to listen
to the whole recording again. “How much is it to be a member?”
He
smiled playfully, “Are you interested in joining?”
I
smiled and blushed at his suggestion, “I’m afraid not. This is just basic
information for the magazine.”
“Four
thousand dollars a month is the membership fee.” He hesitated for a moment as
he watched me, “You do not agree with the club.” It was more of a statement
then a question.
The
way he would just say what I was thinking was unnerving. I was wondering if my
face gave it away. “My personal opinions do not have a place in the interview.
That is a lot of money so the average Joe would not be able to be a member?” I
pushed ahead hoping to deter him from turning the interview into a personal
conversation.
He
smiled, “It keeps out the riff raff. But your feelings will reflect in the
story being that you are the writer.”
I
continued to attempt to evade his questions. I didn’t really know what I
thought I just knew I wasn’t very comfortable. “Not as much as you think. Now
how long have you been in business?”
He
looked amused, “You are good at deflecting and staying on track, are you
religious is that why you do not agree?”
I
looked at him and responded shifting nervously as I did, “Mr. Carson the
interview is about you not me.”
He
smiled in a way that suggested he was not going to stop bugging me. I was
beginning to think I was amusing him. “Ms. Adams perhaps if you were willing to
share something about
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