TOXIC AND ADICTIVE

2

“We’ll go to the car, I’ll enter the address in the GPS. I’ll drive in front. You just follow me.”

As we stepped outside, I noticed Blue’s vehicle was still parked in the same spot, right next to my black 2024 Jeep Wrangler. I’d saved for almost a year to afford it, until recently, when my five-star regular completed the payment after a two-day business trip together. I was the only one of the three of us who didn’t own a luxury car because, unlike the others, I have responsibilities. Santa drove a 2021 Lamborghini Aventador Ultimae. She entered the coordinates into my GPS, and since there was no traffic, the estimated time was thirty minutes. We’d get there around 3 a.m. the perfect hour when the money flows like water.

With Coldplay playing in the background, I cruised through the streets of San Francisco, closely following Santa. Strangely, all of a sudden, I felt on fire. I wanted to move, to dance. I think I owe my new mood to Hymn for the Weekend blasting through my speakers, even if it wasn’t the weekend but a Monday night. As if by magic, my fatigue vanished. Now I had only one desire: to grind against a hot body and maybe, who knows, end the night with some young stud who could give me a proper orgasm, even if it was for free. I didn’t mind. I pictured office workers sleeping soundly at this hour, snoring so they could be fresh for work in the morning. Or students and schoolkids, still at the start of their weekly torment, dreaming of weekends that felt eternally out of reach. They’d probably envy my life, but it’s not something just handed to you. Someone’s got to rule the night while others run the day.

We finally pulled up in front of what I assumed was the new club Santa had mentioned. It was attached to a tall building that looked like nothing special from the outside. Yet the number of cars packed into the lot and lining the driveways made it clear something big was happening here. Generally, in buildings like this, clubs are either in the basement or the penthouse. I tilted my head to guess which, but saw nothing. The strangest part? Total silence. Then again, we were in Nob Hill one of the city’s poshest neighborhoods, known for its classy charm and luxury hotels.

“Are you sure this is the place?” I asked Santa as I joined her near her car, watching her adjust her neckline to make it even more plunging.

“Yeah, don’t worry. This is the address.”

“It’s dead quiet. Like a cemetery.”

“Yeah, that’s because the club’s on the penthouse level. Totally soundproof.”

“Please tell me you have the invitation tickets. If this is what you say, it looks more like a private party than a regular club.”

“Relax. Just play along. And here, take my purse and stuff it in yours.” I looked at her like she was crazy. She ran her fingers through her blonde hair, making it look wild and tousled. I started to understand her game. Then she strutted ahead, and when we reached the building’s lobby, she let out a dramatic sigh, started laughing loudly, and walked like she was slightly drunk.

“Oh my god, Rhéa, I cannot believe you forgot your invitation at home! Damn it, you dragged me out when the party was already in full swing." She said it with the sway of her hips so convincing that if I hadn’t just seen her seconds ago, I would’ve thought she really was tipsy.

“I have already apologized,” I said, following her with an apologetic look on my face. She made her way toward a specific elevator guarded by two bouncers dressed in full raven gear (black suits, white shirts).

“Anyway, it doesn’t matter. Bob’s the one throwing the party. That means”

“Excuse me, ma’am, but you can’t go in,” one of them interrupted.

“Excuse me? And by what right?” she snapped, feigning total outrage, placing her hand dramatically on her chest like she’d just been gravely insulted.

“Oh my God, I can’t believe I’m being humiliated like this.”

“It’s okay, babe,” I said as I stepped closer to her. “We’ll call the boss. He’ll fix this. Bob’s hiring clueless amateurs now.”

“What my colleague meant to say,” the second one cut in, “is that you need to present your passes to enter.”

“Oh, and now they’re hard of hearing too?” she replied theatrically. "Where exactly do you think I’m hiding that pass? Between my boobs? I was inside. I just stepped out to bring up Bop’s girl.”

Who the hell was Bop? I wondered to myself.

“Ah, okay ma’am, sorry. We didn’t recognize you. A thousand apologies,” he said with a sheepish bow.

He clearly had no idea what he was doing, but wanted to avoid making a bigger mistake.

“But we still can’t let the other lady in without a pass.” I stepped forward with a threatening look.

“So you just admitted you weren’t paying attention. Are you seriously going to tell me that someone walks out right under your nose and five minutes later you forget their face? That means you must’ve left your post. Is that what you’re getting paid for?”

I watched them while they spoke and if there’s one thing I’m certain of, it’s that those guys were high. They’d taken something strong. One had dilated pupils, the other couldn’t stop rubbing his nose. I’d spent half my life around addicts. I knew the signs like the back of my hand.

“Look, please, ma’am,” the first guy stammered. “We just stepped away for a quick bathroom break, that’s all. If you promise not to tell Bop, we’ll let you both through.”

“You were going to let me in any way,” I replied coolly, “because we could’ve just called him down here. But since I’m in a good mood, I’ll overlook this little incident—as long as it doesn’t happen again.”

“Yes ma’am, we promise. And thank you… thank you again.”