Open Doors (Suncoast Society #27)(23)

“No, it’s okay. I know that first night I could have nixed the deal then, despite a bunch of whining and pouting on your part, and kicking and screaming like a toddler on your part—metaphorically speaking—and it would have been the end of it. I could see how much you wanted this. I also suspected you were woefully unprepared for the realities. Kaden is an attorney and probably assumed you thought about all of this, too, which is why he didn’t push harder from the start when you scheduled the first party without doing all the paperwork first.”

“So what else have I missed?”

“That you need to help me find qualified volunteers. And we need people we can trust with keys and not to be running sex parties there on days we’re usually closed. Shit like that.”

“Kel can help keep an eye on the place.”

“I know, but he has a life and his own work, too. Again, we can’t keep relying on our friends. They’re fine with it for now, but eventually, they’re going to get tired of it.”

“I guess I need to start attending more of the coffee times and munches in the area and talking to people.”

“Yep. It means you’ll be DVRing a lot of stuff to watch at a later date, buster.”

She felt a little badly for him. He loved to unwind by coming home and watching TV to take his mind off work and make him laugh. Especially sitcoms.

Not anymore. Not for a while.

“We can’t afford for me to hire someone full-time to do what I do at the office,” she said. “And even if we could, it would take me forever to train them. Most of what I know I learned through a lot of trial and a shit-ton of error. Mostly error, which is how I figured out what worked. That means I need you to give up your free time, too, or this club will not get off the ground and we’ll be out the money.”

Another heavy sigh that saddened her. “What’s the five-year plan, again?” he asked.

This time, it sounded like he was really listening to her and her words weren’t just washing over and around him like a river around a boulder. “To have all our loans to the club paid back, and to have the club earning enough every month to pay expenses, with a little in reserve for repairs and improvements. So that it’s a self-sufficient beast that doesn’t need cash infusions every time we turn around.”

“Did I mention how much I love you?”

“A few times, yes.”

“If in five years, we’re at that point, or sooner, and you want out of this, we’ll see about selling it to someone.”

She gentled her voice. “I’m not saying that right now. I loved seeing everyone happy, too. I want this to succeed, but not at the expense of us. Just work with me, and listen to me when I say stuff. Okay?”

“Okay.”

She smiled. “Trust me, I don’t care what anyone says, you’re Mastering right.”

He chuckled.





Chapter Eleven


“ We really need a class for newbies,” Leah said over dinner at Sigalo’s.

Everyone gathered around the tables for dinner looked at Marcia.

She set down her fork. “Okay, why do people look at me for stuff like that?”

Derrick leaned in and kissed her. “Because they know who the true brains behind this operation is, and it’s not me, that’s for damn sure.”

Six weeks into things following their first “real” party, as they thought of the second one. The club—which it now officially was—was scheduled to be open the first three Saturday nights of every month. That meant at least one—if not two—Saturday nights free every month for Derrick and Marcia and their volunteers.

They’d had few problems so far. They’d refused memberships to three people who’d cropped up on the USDOJ sex offenders database. Derrick knew the sheriff’s office had sent undercover officers to the club, because one of them and his wife joined.

The man had come in early for one of the play sessions, after watching a rope demo and joining, and had a private talk with Derrick.

He’d told Derrick that as long as they kept doing what they were doing, they wouldn’t run afoul of the law. That once it was clear several different random visits had proven there wasn’t any sex going on, or any alcohol allowed, the club had dropped from the sheriff department’s list of interest.

He’d also related the story of how the last undercover officer who’d been sent a couple of weeks earlier had almost been thrown out of the club when he’d asked one of the DMs if it was possible to hire anyone for sex through the club.

Only after the guy claimed he was new and apologized profusely did the DM finally relent and let him stay.

“Then he sat our guy down in a corner for over an hour and lectured him about proper etiquette in the lifestyle, what to do, what not to do, consensual play, all of that.” The detective laughed. “Our guy told our captain there was no way in hell he was coming back, because he didn’t want to sit through another lecture like a scolded kid when there were more important things to be focusing on. Like shutting down meth houses and human trafficking, not bothering people getting their consensual kink on in a warehouse.”

Derrick had breathed a silent sigh of relief that his faith in his volunteer DM staff hadn’t been misplaced. “Any idea who the DM was, so I can thank him?”