Make sure you are on time. Don't get lost. Don't be late. Remember, one-time, you will never get this opportunity again."
He placed the card in her hand and disappeared into the crowd. She left the card on the bar as she stepped away with her drink in her hand, but the bartender called out to her, "Miss Fitzpatrick, you really don't want to lose this." He was holding up the card. "Most of the people here would give everything they have for one of these."
"How much did he pay you to say that!" she thought as she took the card from his hand and pushed it into her small purse. The next morning, as she cleaned out her "club purse" and put things into her business handbag, she tried to tear the card in two.
It wouldn't tear all the way. Evidently it had some sort of metal or thick plastic embedded in the paper. So, she tossed it into the kitchen garbage with the rest of the night's debris from her purse..
At the office she casually asked one of her secretaries, whom she knew was in a D/s relationship as a top, "Have you ever heard of SaM's Place?"
"Only in legend," Marcie replied. "It is supposed to be some super-secret S&M club for the super rich or something like that. The waiters, waitresses, cooks, bartenders, everyone who serves you there are slaves - real slaves, not some pretend slaves on the weekends with nine-to- five jobs during the week. The story is that membership is by invitation only. And once you are in, if you tell anyone about the club, not only are you out, but you disappear... permanently.
She dropped her voice to a whisper on her last word.
She then smiled brightly. "I don't know if it really exists or not, but I would love to have a chance to find out." After taking a sip from her coffee cup, she added with a sigh, "It might really exist, but I don't think I will ever know for sure, I'm not rich enough to qualify, and I doubt that Sam will ever hand me one of his special invitations." Then she laughed and turned back to her work.
Evelyn laughed along with Marcie, but internally her heart was racing. Just before lunch she made some sort of excuse and returned home before the maid could empty the trash in the kitchen. She rummaged through the garbage, and there beneath the coffee grounds from her morning coffee, she found the special invitation which Sam had given her the night before.
Her mind was suddenly brought back to the present as her car exited the tunnel into a brightly lit parking area. Raised curbing directed her to a small booth at which a uniformed guard sat sleepily watching several surveillance monitors and a small portable television. "Good evening, Miss Fitzpatrick, he said as she stopped at the small security gate. Just park over there next to the wall and enter through the doorway into the elevator lobby.
Your pass will open it. Sam is waiting for you."
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END CHAPTER ONE OF FIFTEEN
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