Chapter 8: Velvet and Oak
As per Rebecca’s request, Max got himself ready, wearing a black button-down, sleeves rolled, tailored charcoal wool trousers, dark brown suede loafers, and a cashmere overshirt.
A light spritz of Silex cologne set off the outfit perfectly. It’s a light, earthy cologne he knew Rebecca would like. She had never liked strong scents on him.
He grabbed his phone and wallet and stepped out into the crisp night air. He took a deep breath, the early autumn air giving a sense of comfort.
He saw the headlights of the car as soon as he stepped out. Checking his watch, he saw it was 6:50. There were still ten minutes to spare. But the timing wasn’t strange.
Rebecca was always someone who valued punctuality. She was also one of the few women he accompanied who knew where he lived and was completely aware of his financial situation.
"Hey, Vik," he said to the driver as he stepped into the back seat.
Vik was the kind of person who knew when to be quiet. It took a while for Max to get him to warm up to him.
If tight-lipped were a profession, he would have the highest salary. Not because he didn’t talk. Nope, Vik could talk your ear off. It’s because he could talk you in circles until you don’t remember what you asked. And when it comes to valuable information, the man is a vault.
The tyres crunched under the asphalt as the car pulled away from the curb. Light became streams as they followed the road to their destination.
"Vik, where are we going tonight?"
The convenient detail Rebecca hadn’t bothered to tell him.
"Velvet and Oak," Vik replied.
Max froze.
Velvet and Oak, it was one of the few clubs he hadn’t been to, which is strange considering his clientele. It catered to women who were looking for a ’boy toy.’ Similar to a gentleman’s club.
It catered to the wealthy elite female patrons.
It seems the friends Rebecca mentioned were simply friends.
He had heard the mention of friends before. Those friends were usually female business partners. He listened and basically acted as the perfect gentleman for the night. It was through these meetings that he met some of his other clients.
Thankfully, no one asked questions. And honestly, Rebecca was the one who lasted the longest. While she was looking for companionship, the others were looking for...some spice.
He gave them what they needed, and they ignored each other afterwards, pretending it never happened.
At 7:25, Max arrived outside Velvet and Oak. Vik let him know that the reservation was under Rebecca’s name and he only needed to let them know. He said good night to Vik and headed towards the doors.
From the outside, you could never tell what kind of place this was.
There were no flashing lights, no music spilling onto the streets, only a polished plaque and a pair of dark walnut doors.
Max steps up to the door, and two women guarding the door open it. Their expressions are polite and professional. Max eyes them carefully, not looking too closely, lest he find himself in trouble.
The doors open, and he finds himself enveloped in a faint floral scent.
The reception all looks like the entrance to a luxury hotel’s lobby, nothing like a Max would have imagined. Cream coloured marble stretched across the floor. A chandelier hung overhead.
He walked towards the reception desk. A woman with a slicked-back ponytail and wearing a professional smile greeted him.
Max felt his throat tighten. The woman was gorgeous. Her smile was professional, but it was still striking. Coupled with her ample breasts and small waist, he found himself looking longer than he expected.
Knowing this wasn’t the place for ogling, he cleared his throat.
"Good evening, sir."
"Good evening," Max responded. "I have a reservation under Harding, Rebecca Harding."
She typed something into the computer, then said, "Ms. Harding is waiting for you. Olivia will escort you to the room."
He watched her press a button, and a woman with red hair walked to his side. She gave a small nod and told him to follow her.
Her heels clicked on the floor, and Max let his eyes flit over the room and now on the curves of Olivia’s body. He has seen four women so far, and besides the ones at the entrance who were a little above average, the women inside were beautiful.
It made him wonder if they hired based on looks or credentials.
Max follows Olivia through the corridor. The walls were lined with artwork suited to the decor. They passed small groups of women sitting together, talking over wine. Some had documents placed on the table, others appeared leisurely.
Across the room, two women Max had seen only in a magazine were speaking in hushed whispers over a holographic display.
His heart lurched. That kind of tech wasn’t available to the masses. It’s good enough that AI doesn’t screw you over when you give it a prompt. But holograms? He had never seen it. But to them, it looked like the most normal thing in the world.
After seeing that, he kept his head straight. No matter what he saw, it was none of his business. But seeing it strengthened his resolve. The sooner he paid off his debt, the sooner he could start making money.
He wanted to like them. Arguing over the latest technology that hasn’t even gone on the market. It didn’t matter how long it took; he was determined to carve a path of his own. He was looking forward to the day he didn’t have to pander to the whims of rich women, and they would have to be respectful to him.
Stopping in front of a double door, Olivia pressed a button and waited.
She didn’t say anything to Max the entire way. She didn’t even look sideways at him. He wanted to say something, but wasn’t sure what to say. He was here as a plus one, the person begging for scraps, not the one with the money.
It would be a miracle if she looked at him. He felt his throat burn. His emotions were getting the better of him. He took a breath and calmed down.
He might not have the chance now, but there was still the future; he needed to look forward.
The door opened slowly, and Olivia gestured for him to step inside.
"Thank you," he said as she turned back to leave, then he stepped into the room.
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