“Eh, nothing special.” I shrugged. “None of the girls were acceptable.”
“I met some guys in the office. Some guys from Yale and Brown. They’re looking for a new place to relax in the evenings. I told them I might know of a place.”
“Oh yeah?” I sat back. “What did they say?”
“’How much?’” Brandon laughed. “We haven’t spoken about the fees yet.”
“I’m thinking $100,000 a year,” I said straight-faced.
Brandon shook his head. “There’s clubs in Miami that charge $100,000.”
“$250,000 then.”
“That’s better.” Brandon smiled.
“Then we need high-quality girls.”
“We need high-quality everything.” He nodded. “How much do we have left?”
“About two and half million,” I sighed. “The structural issues were worse than I thought.”
“I can get more. What about you?”
I shook my head. “My trust fund doesn’t pay out for three more years.”
“How much more do you think we need?”
“Another ten million.”
“I’ll do a transfer tomorrow.”
“You sure?”
“I’m sure. What are friends for?”
“That’s why I chose you as my partner.” I grinned and he laughed.
“Uh huh.”
“I can’t believe we’re doing this.” I looked at him. “We’re really doing this, Brandon.”
“I never had any doubt.”
“Really?”
“Anything you put your mind to, you do.”
“Thanks.”
“It’s not a compliment.” Brandon looked at me with a sad face. “Are we doing the right thing?”
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t know. It’s exciting, but I can’t explain it. It just seems off. Like we’re doing something bad.”
“We’re providing a service.”
“I know, but who are these women?”
“We’re not providing escorts.” I frowned. “Or prostitutes.”
“But we’re not saying no to sex.”
“They’re adults. They can do what they want.”
“What about the dungeons and the rooms?”
“What about them?”
“What if someone gets hurt?”
“We won’t let anyone get hurt.”
“If you’re sure.” Brandon didn’t look convinced. “I don’t want to—”
“Look, Brandon, these women want it just as badly as we do. They might lie and say it’s about love, but it’s not. It’s about them getting fucked hard and good. It’s about them getting money. It’s about them thinking they’re getting something. They don’t give two shits.”
“I don’t know.” Brandon frowned. “What about love?”
“Love?” I laughed. “What’s love? Some emotion that twists your head and your heart? What is this, Brandon? You’re not going all Ward Cleaver on me, are you? You’re not telling me you want 2.4 children and a fucking house on Long Island?”
“That’s not what I’m saying. I’m just saying that—”
A soft voice interrupted. “Hi, excuse me.” I looked up. A sweet, demure-looking girl stepped into the room. “Sorry, I’m here for the interview. I’m not late, am I?”
“No, not late at all.” I smiled at her and winked at Brandon. Now, this was what I was talking about. She was fresh-faced and sweet, with the right amount of sex appeal.
“Great.” She looked back and forth between me and Brandon. “I had trouble finding the place.”
“No worries. We’re new.”
“I know.” She nodded.
“Okay, so what experience do you have?”
“Depends on what the job is.” She grinned at me and I laughed.
“The job depends on your skills.”
“I’ve got plenty of skills. Typing, dictation, dancing...” She did a pirouette and grinned again.
“What about lap dancing?” Brandon spoke up and I frowned.
“Brandon, have some class.” I shook my head at him and then looked back at the girl. “Sorry about that. My business partner is new to this.”
“No worries.” She smiled at me and leaned forward. “But if you want to know, I can give one heck of a lap dance.”
“Oh yeah?” I sat back and grinned. “That doesn’t hurt.”
“Yeah, I’m pretty flexible.” She ran her hands through her hair. “Or so I’ve been told.”
“You can show me if you want.” Brandon sat down on one of the chairs. “Show me what you’re working with.”