The King

of landing up there. I guess the bigwigs got to eat their dinner looking down on the little wigs.”


Kingsley stood in the middle of the grand hall and turned

slowly in a circle.

“Let’s see the rest,” he said. Together he and Sam wandered

for an hour through the now-defunct Renaissance. A madman must have designed the building. The layout made very

little sense. One hallway of guest rooms was hidden behind

the dining room. There were secret doors all over the place

that led to other hallways. Guests must have gotten lost all the

time trying to find their way back to their rooms. No wonder

it had gone out of business.

“I think M.C. Escher must have been the architect on this

place,” Sam said.

“I hate to think what Fuller would do to a building this

unique.”

“He’ll probably turn it into a church like his other churches—

a big ugly warehouse with beige carpet.”

“This place…it’s been through many transformations.”

Kingsley stood in one of the larger suites. “Many incarnations. Now it doesn’t know what it is anymore. It only knows

that it’s been abandoned. I know how it feels.”

He reached out and laid his hand on an ornately carved

door frame like a doctor feeling for a heartbeat. “This place

is perfect,” Kingsley said. “Everything I dreamed of.” “You have weird dreams.”

“These suites are what I need for our pros.”

“Pros? Like hookers?”

“No hookers. I’m not a pimp. I mean professionals. Profes

sional dominants.”

“Dominatrixes?”

“One or two. The best in the city.”

“Mistress Felicia? You want this club to be special, you

want her.”

“Isn’t she still in prison?” he asked. Last he’d heard the notorious Mistress Felicia was still locked away in Danbury for

ignoring a subpoena to testify in a high-profile divorce case. “She got out last month. She says she’s retiring, but she

might come out of retirement for you,” Sam said with a wink. “I’m not a submissive,” Kingsley said.

“I mean for the club. She’s the best in the city. You should

woo her.”

“You know a lot about kink in this city.”

“Everyone tells the bartender everything. Plus, I’m kinky.

Does this come as a shock to you?”

Kingsley looked her up and down.

“Not at all. I want people like us at the club. I want all

of our kind welcome here—gay and straight, bi, as long as

they’re kinky. We’ll need professional male dominants, too.

A few bouncers.”

“Then you’ll need some of the leather guard,” she said.

“What else?”

“Pro-submissives—male and female.”

“Those will be harder to find. There’s ads for dominatrixes

in the goddamn phone book, but pro-subs? How many people do you know who want to get the shit beat out of them

for a living?”

“Enough of them do it for free. They might as well get

paid for it.”

“What else?” Sam asked. “If it’s an S and M club, I guess

we’ll need some sadists.”

“I have one sadist already. Not on the payroll, but he’ll cer

tainly bring the pain, out of the kindness of his heart.” “Is he good?”

“He can slice a lit cigarette in half with the tip of a whip.

But we’ll need more than one. There are more masochists in

this city than you would believe.”

“With rent as high as it is, I’d say we’re all masochists.” He stood in front of her and looked at her without smiling. “This might get ugly,” Kingsley said. “I do ugly things

in my work sometimes. If you work for me, you’ll get your

hands dirty.”

“I like dirty.”

“Illegal things may or may not happen.”

“I have an amazing ability to look the other way.” “I’ll never put you in harm’s way, but I will put myself

there.”

“You’re a grown-up,” she said. “Just make sure my paychecks don’t bounce.”

“I pay in cash,” he said.

“This is the greatest job ever. Let’s do it.”

“This is our kingdom.” He waved his hand, indicating the

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