is San Francisco;
there are lots of sane, kinky people in this town to play with. I can tone it down.
I can play safe.”
She drove me home. Maybe she even believed my lies.
I’m like an addict in that regard. Alcoholics lie about
their booze, addicts will tell you anything to get money for their next score.
Except I’m not a sex addict.
Chapter Four
George
Jasper is already seated at the large table in the
conference room when I arrive. I hope he can’t tell how nervous I am about
this. My stomach is in my throat. I want nothing more than to wake up and
discover the last few months have been a bad dream. I want Garrett to come
back. I want our old normal. Looking at Jasper, I think he wants the same
thing.
He is surrounded by proofs and whiteboards, flushed with
either dread or excitement and on the edge of his seat.
I sit so that we face each other. “Show me what you’ve got.”
“Bedlam,” he says and immediately pulls out drawings for the
new signage. It is over the top, flashy, brightly lit. He then proceeds to
billboards and advertising layouts.
By the time he points to the whiteboard mockups to show me
his ideas for revamping Lewd Larry’s, I’m starting to see my club…and I
suddenly worry what Lin’s reaction will be.
God. Why am I even thinking this? Lin has nothing,
absolutely nothing, to do with this club, with this part of my life. She
would probably disagree with that argument.
My thoughts go to Thomas Stephanopolis. He did it, being a
husband to Latisha, father to his children and balancing his alter ego Lord
Fyre. How did he ever do it? Balancing a wife and a family with his
deviance? I wish he were here. I never thought I’d say that .
Jasper says, “The Attic would be renamed The Asylum and The
Oasis Dining Room would become The Operating Room.”
I can barely breathe, looking at his proposal for the
members-only level. The pet floor cushions and soft lighting replaced with
stainless steel and fluorescence. The mostly nude servers would be dressed as
sexy nurses, white uniforms and thigh-highs for the women, white t-shirt and
white pants for the men. “Our current clientele will be alienated.”
“There’s proof of a fairly significant shift of local fetish
interests in recent years supporting the medical theme,” Jasper explains,
adding gently, “I’ve never seen you with a pet, Mr. Kirkpatrick. I assumed your
interests might lie in a different direction.”
He’s right. I don’t own a pet. I find the fetish exhausting.
“It won’t be Lewd Larry’s anymore,” I whisper, fighting a
wave of nausea. I only notice my hand is shaking when Jasper covers it with his
own in an attempt to comfort me.
“You’re right. It will be Doctor Psycho’s realm.”
“And what about the needs of the kitties and puppies out
there? Am I just supposed to kick them to the curb?”
“No, of course not, but their numbers are fewer than the
medical fetishists, and even though there is some crossover, I would propose
expanding the current Puppy Pound with a redesign to support the needs of our
loyal members.” He flips to another sketch. “We could call it The Animal
Hospital. Keeping with the medical theme, we would have Examination Rooms and
offer a second smaller dining room, The Waiting Room, with floor cushions and
tables, elevator music if you insist.”
I smirk. The soft classical music that is so peaceful to so
many in the Oasis obviously isn’t Jasper’s cup of tea.
“The truth is we’re in a recession and fewer people are
tossing around the big bucks for high-priced champagne and Cuban cigars. By
offering a more realistic menu at The Waiting Room, dinner numbers might even
improve. Open it up to non-members so more people can see and experience the
canine-feline fetish.”
Nervous, I ask, “But the Operating Room will remain
five-star and members-only?”
“Three star, members-only,” he suggests.
I sigh heavily and pick up the drawing for the
there are lots of sane, kinky people in this town to play with. I can tone it down.
I can play safe.”
She drove me home. Maybe she even believed my lies.
I’m like an addict in that regard. Alcoholics lie about
their booze, addicts will tell you anything to get money for their next score.
Except I’m not a sex addict.
Chapter Four
George
Jasper is already seated at the large table in the
conference room when I arrive. I hope he can’t tell how nervous I am about
this. My stomach is in my throat. I want nothing more than to wake up and
discover the last few months have been a bad dream. I want Garrett to come
back. I want our old normal. Looking at Jasper, I think he wants the same
thing.
He is surrounded by proofs and whiteboards, flushed with
either dread or excitement and on the edge of his seat.
I sit so that we face each other. “Show me what you’ve got.”
“Bedlam,” he says and immediately pulls out drawings for the
new signage. It is over the top, flashy, brightly lit. He then proceeds to
billboards and advertising layouts.
By the time he points to the whiteboard mockups to show me
his ideas for revamping Lewd Larry’s, I’m starting to see my club…and I
suddenly worry what Lin’s reaction will be.
God. Why am I even thinking this? Lin has nothing,
absolutely nothing, to do with this club, with this part of my life. She
would probably disagree with that argument.
My thoughts go to Thomas Stephanopolis. He did it, being a
husband to Latisha, father to his children and balancing his alter ego Lord
Fyre. How did he ever do it? Balancing a wife and a family with his
deviance? I wish he were here. I never thought I’d say that .
Jasper says, “The Attic would be renamed The Asylum and The
Oasis Dining Room would become The Operating Room.”
I can barely breathe, looking at his proposal for the
members-only level. The pet floor cushions and soft lighting replaced with
stainless steel and fluorescence. The mostly nude servers would be dressed as
sexy nurses, white uniforms and thigh-highs for the women, white t-shirt and
white pants for the men. “Our current clientele will be alienated.”
“There’s proof of a fairly significant shift of local fetish
interests in recent years supporting the medical theme,” Jasper explains,
adding gently, “I’ve never seen you with a pet, Mr. Kirkpatrick. I assumed your
interests might lie in a different direction.”
He’s right. I don’t own a pet. I find the fetish exhausting.
“It won’t be Lewd Larry’s anymore,” I whisper, fighting a
wave of nausea. I only notice my hand is shaking when Jasper covers it with his
own in an attempt to comfort me.
“You’re right. It will be Doctor Psycho’s realm.”
“And what about the needs of the kitties and puppies out
there? Am I just supposed to kick them to the curb?”
“No, of course not, but their numbers are fewer than the
medical fetishists, and even though there is some crossover, I would propose
expanding the current Puppy Pound with a redesign to support the needs of our
loyal members.” He flips to another sketch. “We could call it The Animal
Hospital. Keeping with the medical theme, we would have Examination Rooms and
offer a second smaller dining room, The Waiting Room, with floor cushions and
tables, elevator music if you insist.”
I smirk. The soft classical music that is so peaceful to so
many in the Oasis obviously isn’t Jasper’s cup of tea.
“The truth is we’re in a recession and fewer people are
tossing around the big bucks for high-priced champagne and Cuban cigars. By
offering a more realistic menu at The Waiting Room, dinner numbers might even
improve. Open it up to non-members so more people can see and experience the
canine-feline fetish.”
Nervous, I ask, “But the Operating Room will remain
five-star and members-only?”
“Three star, members-only,” he suggests.
I sigh heavily and pick up the drawing for the
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