courage. The way she negotiated surprised me. I'm not sure what I expected. But she held her ground and didn't back down from me. It made me respect her more.
I call my attorney. He answers after two rings. "Colton. What can I do for you?"
"Charles, I need a contract drafted tonight."
"For what?"
What do I call it? I don't engage much at the club. Most men have their favorites but will sample the other women from time to time. I don't have any interest in lap dances, stripteases, or paying a woman for sex. Sure, the women are all beautiful, but I don't have the needs the other men do.
Until she walked into the bar. Suddenly, the things I had no interest in, I want her to do for me.
My membership is for business purposes. When you mix sin and money, you find out a lot about a man's weaknesses. My suite is to entertain businessmen who are visiting from out of town. Otherwise, I don't come inside it. I stay in the bar. Not many men use it. Mostly they bypass it, going directly to where the women are.
The quiet, dark atmosphere of the bar is calming to me. Tim, the bartender, knows exactly how I prefer my scotch. I avoid the hassle of crowded bars and everything else that goes with the hustle and bustle of New York—especially during Christmas.
I don't fault anyone for loving it. I did a long time ago. But I'd prefer to skip it altogether. I breathe a sigh of relief every year when life resumes to normal and New York City goes back to its usual unjolly ways.
Star is the only dancer who ever comes into the bar. And only when she is meeting a new woman she's recruiting.
I usually don't talk to the new girls. They are all here for the money. I don't know their reasons or want to. But I also don't judge them. Money makes the world go round. I learned it early on in life. And I know what it's like to have nothing and feel desperate to solve your problems.
The men who are members have more wealth than they know what to do with. The women hold all the power in their negotiations. And the club rules are strict. If a woman says no, it's no. There's nothing any member can do to change her mind besides offer her a better deal and try to persuade her. So in my eyes, it's a better situation for these women than what they could resort to.
Why is she here?
What is her problem she needs to solve with the money?
What is she looking for in the insurance policy?
How did Star find her?
My obsession takes hold. I take a large mouthful of scotch and enjoy the burn down my throat. "An exclusivity contract."
"Oh?" Charles asks.
"You could call it a severance package after the exclusivity ends."
"How long is the exclusivity period?"
"Until I say."
"Until you say?" he repeats in confusion.
"Yes."
He lets out a big breath of air. "And the length of the severance?"
"Twenty years, ten thousand a month, complete with full benefits."
Charles clears his throat. "This sounds extreme."
"I don't care. Get it done."
"What are the duties?"
I can't tell Charles to put in writing what she's going to do for me.
"Personal assistant."
The line goes silent.
I wait him out. Charles is the best of the best, but he's a typical attorney, always overanalyzing everything, which is why I hired him. He keeps me out of trouble.
"You want a personal assistant to have a twenty-year severance package?"
"Yes. And I want it clearly stipulated she is on call at all times. There are no off-hours. If I message her, she is to report to duty."
"Are you firing Janelle?"
I snort. "God, no. I'd rather slit my wrists."
"What's the real situation behind this?"
"I just told you. Get it done, Charles. And make it simple. No games. No extended language or get-out clause for me. Keep it black-and-white and nothing in between." I hang up the phone, and a text message pops up.
Janelle: The information was sent. Do you need anything else?
Me: No. Thank you. Have a good night.
Janelle: Anytime.
Janelle's been with me for over fifteen years. She, too, is at my beck and call, but there isn't anything sexual between us. I never have to ask her to do anything twice or explain myself. I have a hunch I pay her more than any other assistant in New York. The saying everyone is replaceable usually is true but not for