A Soul Ensnared

Twelve

July 22, 2013

"Ah, Mr. Dubois, here we are," Sonya announced, slowing her step at the end of a Welcome Tour. She clicked her heels together, and gestured toward a door. "This door right here will lead you to the men's locker room. There is a wonderful man named Trey who is in there to assist you with setting up your locker information. He knows to expect you, so I will leave you to enjoy the rest of your afternoon."

The tall gentlemen, with graying hair, reached out a hand. "As always, I enjoy seeing your smile, Sonya."

With a nod of her head, and a quick burst of teeth, Sonya grasped his hand with both of hers. "The pleasure is always mine. Remember that I'm here to assist you. My door is always open."

He turned and walked into the locker room, ending their tour. The smile left her face with the disappearance of Mr. Dubois. She stood there for a moment, watching the door close, and wondered if the fake seduction she presented to her clientele was the same as Brent's overly eager affection toward the students the other night, as well as his flirtations with the assistant leasing manager. He had relayed his need to use the students' feelings about him to move himself up in the band world, but she wondered if it was also a bigger problem they needed to explore in both of their fields.

She'd built her career off of the idea of seduction. In her line of work, it was needed. Much like Naomi, but with more finesse, she'd found the need to offer an allurement she wouldn't project outside of the Club. That skill helped her in establishing not only her membership numbers, but also her reputation in the community. The difference, however, was that she never crossed the line. Batting her eyelashes was not the same as bringing a strange man's hand to her chest. Perhaps he couldn't tell the difference between light smiles and quick shoulder touches, and running a hand through a young girl's hair after twirling them around the room.

Maybe he doesn't know, like I do, where to draw the line, she mused. Turning away from the locker room, she walked toward the lobby, nodding and waving to patrons along the way. They greeted her in turn, always with bright smiles—some a tad more lecherous than others. In this world, she had created a version of an alter-ego—a woman who tempted, teased, and promised an exclusive experience like no other. Her clients knew her for more than the image she created, but they appreciated the role she played within the walls of the Club. Hers was a character to admire and respect, but it was also one of fantasy.

Did Brent have an alter-ego at work, as well? If so, what was that role? Was the character the person he played for other women, or was his persona the one he held when he was with her?

The thought terrified her.

I made a promise to not accuse him of cheating. I made a promise to work on my jealousy. But, how can I live by that promise if I can't figure out why Brent acts the way he does? She entered the foyer deep in thought, chewing at her bottom lip in an absentminded fashion.

"Ms. Lancaster?" a voice rang out, echoing across the room.

Sonya blinked away her thoughts, and turned her head to follow the sound of the voice. A young woman waved from the reception desk, where two men lingered. They turned toward her, hands in pockets. She changed direction and clicked a path toward the front desk. "Is something the matter, Meghan?" she asked, walking around the desk to stand next to the Club's new receptionist.

The girl was in her early twenties. She dressed in a conservative manner, pulling her brunette hair back in a clip, and sporting labeled clothing from the Pro Shop. It was a look that suited the front desk; a look that had been missing in the former receptionist. Right now, however, Meghan looked frazzled. "This gentlemen and his father are wanting to reserve the banquet hall for a wedding, but the system locked me out. I don't know what I did!"