Offices of McGrath & Temple, LLP on the 10th floor of the JDB Building, Downtown Fort Lauderdale, Florida, Thursday early afternoon, January 7, 2016
Shane “Beck” Beckett’s phone buzzed and he picked it up. The firm’s senior partner, Dan McGrath, was on the line. “Hey, Beck. Come on down to my office. I have a new project for you.”
“Right away, sir.” As the firm’s most junior associate, he didn’t often get called into the head guy’s office for a conference. Shane grabbed up a pen and a yellow legal pad and hustled down the hall to McGrath’s office. Dan was reviewing a file and had papers spread out over the top of his desk when Shane arrived. He sat down in a leather armchair and arranged his pad in his lap. The tall, dark-haired older McGrath oozed confidence and competence, and he made Shane a little nervous.
“Beck, you may know that I’ve been working on the acquisition of the Sandpiper Restaurant on the beach for Cordell McAdam since before the holidays. The contract has been negotiated and signed, and I’m working up the closing checklist. Now we are in the due diligence phase.”
“Yes, sir. I’ve heard it mentioned around the office.” Just the name of the well-known and very good-looking local restauranteur made Shane’s stomach clench and his cock twitch.
“Right. McAdam is a very demanding client, and he will want a complete and accurate synopsis of the books and records before he checks them out for himself.”
Just before noon, Ben Nettleton poked his head into the conference room where Shane had the due diligence spread out on the table. “I can see you’re deep in it. Do you want to break for lunch? Maybe Hot Tamales?”
“That would be great. My head is full of this stuff. I spent most of the morning just unscrambling the omelet. I’m sure they did that on purpose.”
Once they were seated in the popular Mexican restaurant on Fourth, Ben said, “So how’s it going so far?”
“Okay. I’m just getting started.
“Oh, by the way, we’re all having drinks up at Jack Brown’s club tonight after work. Have you been up there yet?”
“Uh, no, but I’ve heard some talk about it. What’s the scoop?”
“It’s a BDSM club. So do you know what that is?”
“Yeah, sure. Sort of.”
“Well, if you want a look around, this would be a good opportunity to come up with us. You’d have to sign the standard confidentiality documents, of course.”
“The confidentiality documents are definitely serious. The club is fun. You never know what crazy thing you’ll see up there—or whom you’ll see up there doing the crazy thing. That’s the reason for the con docs.”
“Yeah. I’d like to go. I have to admit I’ve been curious—the air of mystery and all.”
“I’ll pick you up in your office and you can go up with me.”
* * * *
The foyer of The Black Iris Club, in the penthouse of the JDB Building, Downtown Fort Lauderdale, Florida, Thursday evening, January 7, 2016
Shane watched Ben swipe them into the elevator to the penthouse, and then swipe the key card again at the entrance to the club. He put his hand on the palm plate before they walked through the mahogany double doors with the discreet brass sign that read “The Black Iris Club—Private.”
They entered an elegant foyer with a mahogany reception desk that looked more like the reception area of a law firm than a private sex club. He wondered if he would stand out and how they felt about gays up here. He wasn’t about to ask Ben that question. He would just look, learn, and keep his mouth shut.
His trepidation must have shown because Ben took his arm before he could bolt back between the slowly closing doors of the elevator. “Relax, Shane. Hello, Pamela. We’re guests of J.J. Temple tonight and my girlfriend, Debra, will be joining us later. I believe you have confidentiality documents for Shane Beckett.” The gorgeous receptionist turned to a credenza behind the desk for a manila folder. She put the documents on the counter in front of Shane. He picked them up and quickly scanned the confidentiality language. This is serious shit. He signed the papers. “Funny, I feel like I’m signing my life away.”
Ben laughed. “I felt that way the first time J.J. brought me up here. The confidentiality stuff is to be taken very seriously. This information in the wrong hands could cause people serious trouble. Lives and careers could be ruined.”
“Okay. Let’s go into the dungeon and have a drink at the bar.”
Once they were settled at the beautifully polished hammered-brass bar, Shane began to relax. And then he looked around at his surroundings. Holy Shit! There were naked women and men tied to strange apparatus and chains dropping from the ceiling, all bathed in cones of light coming from recessed fixtures in the commercial warehouse-style ceiling. The walls were painted a dark red, and the tall windows seemed to be covered with an anti-reflection film of some kind. “Can people see in here?”
“Well, we are on the twentieth floor, and the windows are covered so I wouldn’t think so.”
“I see. Wow, Ben, this is definitely over the top.”
“Relax, Shane. We’ll order drinks and just look around for a while. If you’re still uncomfortable, you can leave, but I would advise you to tough it out. Invitations to come up here are not given out lightly, and Dan and J.J. both approved the invitation.” Ben turned to him and said, “If you have any questions about what you are seeing just ask. I may not have all the answers since I’m new to this myself, but as I told you at lunch, all the sexual activities you see here are completely consensual. No one is forced to do anything they don’t want to do.”
“Yeah. Okay. I don’t even have a question to ask at the moment.” He glanced toward the door and saw the senior partner of the firm, Dan McGrath walking in with Cordell McAdam. Dan was still in a business suit, but McAdam was wearing tight black leather pants that outlined his generous package with an open black leather vest that framed his rippled abs under a tweed jacket. His dark, wavy hair caught the light, and his light green eyes took in everything around him. He had a closely trimmed dark beard that emphasized his handsome, sculpted features.
McGrath walked over to the bar and sat on a stool next to Shane. “Cord, this is Shane Beckett, the young man who is doing the preliminary review of your Sandpiper due diligence. I was telling you about him earlier. Shane, this is Cordell McAdam, our client.”
Shane stood and put out his hand to shake. When the imposing McAdam took his hand in a firm but not crushing grip, he felt a shock zing down his body and electrify his johnson. OMG. He hoped no one noticed his cock tenting the front of his trousers.