Read Online The Architect by C.A. Bell - Free Book Online Page B

one.
    It’s not, and I’m half relieved because I know nothing about this stuff, and half disappointed because I’m curious to see what goes on. I then look for the dress code, eventually finding it under the FAQs. The dress code is smart casual unless it’s a fetish night, where rubber, latex, and nudity are accepted.
    I’m stunned as I read this. Nudity, really ? I’m so glad it’s not a fetish night. There’s no way in hell I’m stripping down to my birthday suit in front of a load of strangers, or even worse, people who aren’t strangers.
    Reading through all the questions and answers, the conclusion is, you don’t have to get naked, you don’t have to have sex, you mustn’t pester people, and pictures are prohibited. It sounds like fun, but I am twisting inside at the thought of actually going to a place like this and seeing it all around me.
    Before I know it, it’s dinner time and I’m satisfying my rumbling stomach with yesterday’s leftover lasagne and a handful of mixed salad. Moseying back to my computer with plate in hand I position myself comfortably. Taking a fork mixed with pasta and leaves in one hand, I use the other to scroll down the homepage of the club to check I haven’t missed any vital links or information.
    There’s one I missed. ‘Membership’. Are they serious? They want my full name, mobile number, address, email, and age. Starting to feel uneasy and less comfortable with this venue, I fix upon questioning Liz about it tomorrow as I shut the laptop down and finish off most of my dinner before settling down for the night with a book.
    ***
    Sitting at work, I’m wishing for lunch time to hurry along so I can chat to Liz in private. I can’t concentrate on the elderly man standing at the desk asking for his prescription, as my mind is in all sorts of wonderfully disgusting places. I finally manage to find his medicine on paper through the filth of my thoughts and hand it to him, to which he replies, “Take your time, why don’t ya?”
    My eyes widen, and I want to tell him to not be so rude, but instead I smile and help the next patient.
    Lunch time comes, and like a kid waiting for playtime, I run to the staff room to catch Liz before she heads out for her one o’clock smoke.
    â€œJesus Christ, woman, you nearly knocked my teeth out,” she yells as I breeze through the door.
    â€œSorry, I just wanted to catch you before you went for a cigarette.”
    She stands there with her mug in one hand and her cancer sticks in the other, waiting for me to say something. I poke my head out of the doorway to check none of the doctors or nurses are coming to make a drink. The coast is clear, so I come right out and say it. “Have you ever heard or ever been to Fantasia? The kinky club in town?”
    She grins like the Cheshire Cat. “Of course I have. You don’t think a dirty dog like me hasn’t tried such a place, do you?”
    Is she actually asking me that? I avoid answering, and instead fire off more questions. “What’s it like? I mean, is it respectable?”
    She gives me an odd look. “Most people would say it wasn’t, but that’s only because they’re prudes.” She slurps her brew. “Why do you ask?”
    I lean against the doorframe and keep a look out. “I’ve been asked to go there this weekend.”
    â€œBy the dish you met last week?”
    â€œShh!” I frown. “Yes, with the dish I met last week.”
    She lowers her volume. “Wow, a hunk with a dark side. You are a lucky girl.”
    I tilt my head to the side and narrow my eyes. “Seriously, Liz, is it a seedy party for horny old men?”
    She laughs. “No, it’s nothing like that. The place is much respected in the swinging community, and the staff are very friendly and safety conscious.”
    I scrunch my nose.
    â€œDon’t worry about it.