Nothing Personal [*Complete*]

6

We pulled up to a large estate in the middle of nowhere and I got flashbacks to visiting The Society while we were in London as the heavy gates parted for the car. Instead of driving up the front we pulled around back and dipped down into another parking garage. By the door were three spots marked as reserved. Steve pulled into one and turned off the car.

The three of us walked up the red carpeted stairs to a wrought iron gate which had the society's symbol on it. An attendant came out to greet us, she had her red hair pulled back into a bun and wore a tuxedo.

"Mr. E, so glad you could join us. Cocktails are being served in the drawing room. Your driver is welcome to spend the evening with the others, but is not permitted past the end of the carpet. Also your companion will—"

"Yes, I know. I wrote those rules after all." Mr. Emery stepped closer to me and grabbed the hem of my skirt. My attention went from the attendant to him as he lifted my skirt up my thighs and revealed the mehndi tattoo I wore that said 'Property of Mr. E' in flowing elaborate script directly above my pubic mound.

"Right this way, Mr. E," The attendant said once Mr. Emery smoothed my skirt back in place. He took my hand and we followed the woman deeper into the mansion. Steve broke off from us before the end of the carpet. There were more people than I expected. There was even a dining room which had its doors closed with a sign saying the room would open again for dinner the next day.

The entire place looked like the architectural wet dream of an oil baron from the early twentieth century. The wallpaper looked hand painted with and the ceilings were vaulted with large elaborate crystal chandeliers.

The quiet murmur of people drifted through the halls as we neared the drawing room which looked like an intimate bar. There were fifteen or so couples squeezed into the small room. Most sat at tables lit by votive candles the soft lighting made everything seem almost dream like.

"Food is available upon request. The kitchen is open until midnight. If you wish for your room to be prepared I will see to it as soon as I've seated you."

"There'll be no need for that. We're returning to the city tonight."

"Will you and yours be sitting at the bar or a booth?"

"We'll sit at the bar, and have the kitchen prepare the Mediterranean platter for us. I'd like it brought out in ten minutes."

The attendant twitched but didn't say anything. "Of course, Mr. E."

She led us to the bar and then disappeared without a word toward the kitchen.

After Mr. Emery took a seat I hopped up on one of the barstools as I marveled at the room. An elaborate mural of a garden scene covered the walls and you could even catch the brush strokes in the candle light. The backbar cabinet was covered in ornate carvings of leaves and birds and flowers. The counter itself even had matching embellishments at the corners and on the panels. Despite the obvious age of the place there wasn't anything even remotely stale about it, everything smelled mildly of sandalwood.

The bartender appeared and smiled at Mr. Emery. He was of middling height and slender of build with brown hair, brown eyes and a big bushy beard. I couldn't help but wonder if he knew that he worked for a secret society and that it was more than just a private social club.

"I should have known you were going to visit us again, Mr.E. We received a case of the discontinued 25 year Lagavulin just a last week. And Ms. C visited for Halloween, she hosted the party. Before long I'm certain we'll have Mr. M through as well."