A Soul Ensnared

One

June 14, 2013

Sharp stiletto heels clacked against a wide, expansive foyer. White, marble tiles lined the room, gleaming from the diligent care of the cleaning staff. Floor-to-ceiling windows, covered in cream draperies, afforded an open view of the grounds beyond the lobby; grounds that were as impeccable as the building itself.

In this building, on these grounds, elitism was born.

Beyond the windows, patrons milled about, drinking iced tea, sipping white wine, and enjoying light conversation. Inside though, the mood held the somber edge of pristine opulence. Discussions inside these hallowed walls formed from a monetary, competitive need for gain, as it had for decades.

With precision born from years of wear, the owner of the black heels marched up to the reception desk, eyes focused solely on the guest awaiting her presence there. A tall gentleman, wearing a pressed, pink golf shirt, pleated gray pants, and a matching gray flat cap stood idly by, staring out the back windows at freshly cut grounds, softly rolling hills, and dreaded sand dunes. He was her afternoon appointment. As she checked the clock on the wall, it chimed the start of a new hour, announcing her arrival.
Pleased with her promptness, she extended a manicured hand toward the man. "Welcome, Mr. Gaynes, to Bloomfield's Premier Country Club. It's a pleasure to have you as our newest member. My name is Sonya Lancaster. Shall we take our Welcome Tour?"

Sonya Lancaster slanted dark brown, almond-shaped eyes at the newest member of the Club that resided in the heart of Bloomington, Indiana. Accustomed to being a seductive powerhouse, having been born with the right attributes, Sonya stood just shy of five feet, four inches. With ample curves, long, black hair, and exotic eyes, she knew her effect on men. And, in the world of golf, she used her God-given features to her advantage. As Bloomfield's Public Events and Member Relations Coordinator, she came equipped with what every Country Club needed: an attractive, spirited, outspoken woman, with flair.

Mr. Gaynes gave a short nod, oblivious to all but the green beyond as he stretched his hand toward the glass doors that led outside. "Lead the way, Ms. Lancaster. It will be my pleasure."

Bloomfield Country Club featured an immense, three-story mansion, with large, open bay windows. A wrap-around balcony on the second level featured elegant, outdoor seating. Throughout the building were several conference rooms, lounging areas, private alcoves, changing rooms for patrons. There was also a large ballroom for wedding receptions. But it was the dining area on the third floor that held the real area of focus for the Club. Members were expected to dine there, and dine often. Every evening, the staff laid out crisp linens in muted shades of gray, with ornate floral arrangements placed strategically in the center of each table. Candles were lit for ambience, and the entire room was made aglow from sparkling lights that dangled from the vaulted ceiling, as well as the four chandeliers that dripped crystals.

After showing her newest member around the building itself, Sonya took him on a tour of the outside grounds. Bloomington's sole golf course hosted an Olympic-sized pool, two tennis courts, the renowned pub and bistro attached to the Pro Shop, and, of course, the eighteen-hole golfing green.

Membership was exclusive; fees were steep. This was exactly what the staff preferred. Sonya put on her best act, selling their newest member on the features he had already purchased, while cautioning him to the rigid guidelines of which he was to adhere.

"Please remember," she asserted in her most beguiling manner, "that we have a strict dress code, and that any guest accompanying you must be dressed appropriately. Denim pants are only allowed on Fridays, and only before dinner. Dinner begins promptly at five. The expected attire for dinner is a sports-coat and dress pants. That extends to all guests brought onto the grounds, as well. Any deviation to the rules will hold a warning, an expectation of leaving until properly adorned, and, in some cases, a fine.