“I’ve never met a woman so brave and kind and funny and perfect.” Then he looks down at her, their eyes locked in a private expression that feels far too intimate for this public setting as he whispers, “You are perfect.”
And I fight the urge to vomit.
She smiles back up at him, and I tear my eyes away to see everyone else in the room gazing at them with loving expressions, as if they’re watching the greatest thing they’ve ever seen.
Almost everyone here is coupled up and they’re all clinging to each other as if watching my dad with his twenty-two-year-old fiancée is somehow reviving their own love lives.
“I’m sorry for being so cheesy,” he says with a laugh, and the crowd responds with their own chuckles. “But I feel incredibly lucky tonight to have the woman I love and all of my friends here. I don’t know how I got so lucky to have found you.”
“Ha!”
I’m the only one who laughs at that. Loudly.
Suddenly, all eyes are on me at the back of the room. I bite my bottom lip as I try to fade further into the wall, and I can’t possibly bear looking up at Charlie or my dad, so I freeze in my awkwardness until they finally all tear their eyes away.
Fuck my life.
“I’ll stop talking for tonight. Thank you all again for coming.”
With that, the room breaks out in applause, and I take it as my sign to hightail my ass out of that party. If anyone bothers following me, I’m too far gone by the time they have a chance to catch me.
Rule #10: Some mysteries should remain mysteries.
Maggie
I slip through the back door of the club undetected and head straight for the shared office, where I know none of my colleagues will be waiting for me.
This is by far the craziest thing I’ve ever done.
With shaky hands, I open my bag and start pulling out the clothes I brought, including the white feathery masquerade mask.
God, what if someone that works here recognizes me?
Oh well. They won’t dare say a word or I’ll have them fired on the spot.
Okay, that’s a little harsh, but I’m still fairly confident they won’t say anything, so I’m safe. We all have a mutual, unspoken agreement that everyone’s sex lives are private and discretion is gold-plated.
Shedding the stupid virgin skirt and blouse, I stand in my thin, lace thong and satin bra, quickly slipping the black dress over my body. My cleavage immediately pops out of the top, but instead of tucking it back in like I would have done before, I shimmy it out a little bit more.
Using my phone’s camera as a mirror, I apply some red lipstick and thick eyeliner. Then, I brush back my bangs, pinning them down as I tease my hair into a sexy tight ponytail.
As I slip the white mask over my face, I realize that this feels a little like transforming into an entirely different person. My dominant alter ego. Because I certainly don’t feel anything like myself at the moment.
And I like it.
I duck my head out the door to make sure no one sees me coming out of the office like this, and when the hallway is clear, I slide out and close it behind me. In a scurry, I rush toward the service entrance that leads to the main room.
Once I enter the frenzy of the masquerade party, I pause. The room is full, the lights dimmer than normal, and bright-colored strobe lights illuminate the crowd. On the stage, the DJ is playing, and for the most part, it resembles a regular nightclub more than a sex club. The only difference being that everyone here tonight is in disguise.
My feet are glued in place as I marvel at the sight of Salacious from this angle. Not that I haven’t stood in this exact spot or been to an event of ours before, but I’ve never been here as a member. I’ve never stood in this room, nervous to be meeting someone soon with the promise of something intimate and exhilarating.