Room One: Club Sin: A Forbidden Second Chance Reverse Harem Romance

Riding through heavy traffic in NY gives me the time I need to prepare for the long day ahead. Six years and I never have gotten used to all the horns, congestion on every street, or the abrasive nature of the locals.

But I love it. No one sticks their noses into my business and not a single family member lives within driving distance. Christmases are spent with me jetting off to a new tropical island every year. Except for this one, but that’s okay.

I call that bliss with a capital B. Especially around this time of year. I thumb open the calendar on my phone and count the days until Christmas vacation kicks off. Oh baby! Five weeks and three days until I seal myself away in my new apartment overlooking Central Park and not come out until January or I run out of Oreos. Whichever comes first. I’ll finally have time to binge that new historical romance show everyone is swooning over and paint my living room cranberry red. Maybe I’ll get a tree this year, too.

The past year of working for my best friend, Justice Thorne, at Thorneware, a multi-billion-dollar tech company has come with a new set of challenges I didn’t run into as a one-time secretary for my friend’s mother. But no one ever said being made partner would be easy. Meetings, endless phone calls, contracts, and long nights of number crunching, missed dinners and lunches have been my days for weeks on end. Come to think of it, I can’t remember the last time I actually sat down to eat a home-cooked meal. A burrito on the go and a quick Danish with a coffee is all I’ve managed for weeks.

A thrill of tingles wells up inside of me at my new status within the company which came with a set of keys to my new apartment and a sizable increase in pay with stock options. Two months and I still can’t get over the birthday present my friend gifted me. All because I helped her find true love with three hunks who dote on her tirelessly.

As per usual this time of year, my mind lingers on old memories of my lost chance at love. Seeing Justice with her harem of men brings cravings for what might have been once upon a time, but like I have done for the past six years, I shove those memories aside and focus on what matters. Me in the now. Because if I don’t, who will?

I pass a thumb over a golden butterfly hanging around my neck. A birthday present from them a few years back. I’d only been here for a year and was desperately fighting to make enough money to afford to live in such an expensive city.

Up until a year ago I was not too sure I wouldn’t be forced into returning home.

Truth be told, the day Justice broke it off with her mother and asked me to come work for her was one of the happiest in recent memory. That day we both left behind the narcissistic woman—aka the powerhouse owner of Thorne Tech, Justice’s natural competition in a market filled with tech-savvy geniuses.

I feel eyes on me, and I look up to see the driver staring at me through the rearview.

“All okay, Mr. Mackay?”

My driver looks back at me for a brief moment and then back on the road. “Yes, ma’am.”

He couldn’t be more than a few years older than me. Clean cut, soft hands and remarkably easy going. Almost too much so. I like a little grit and height to my men, but there’s a type of man for every type of woman, I suppose. Whoever gets to look into his kind eyes every day would be a lucky chick for sure.

His services are another benefit that came with my new position. One I secretly love more than anything. I’ve picked up some unsavory attention from an unwanted admirer. Not being alone when I go and come from the office puts my mind at ease. At first, I didn’t know if I would ever get used to having a chauffeur but not spending an hour elbowing my way through pedestrian traffic is yet another nice benefit.

“Have you lived here long, Mr. Mackay?”

He nods. “My whole life. I know everything there is to know about the Big Apple. Good and bad. It’s easy for a girl like you to get lost here. Best be careful.” He hands me a disposable coffee cup from my favorite shop around the corner from my place and a small white bag.

“You’re right there. It’s nothing like my small Texas town. That’s a good and bad thing.” I smile and greedily take both and sip at the steamy liquid and literally moan with delight.

“What a surprise. Wow, that was good. You even got the flavor right. Thank you, Mr. Mackay.”

“Vanilla latte, two sugars. Extra whipped cream on Fridays.”

My brows rise in surprise. “You are good.”

“You look tired. You should take better care of yourself, Kandy.”

Not Ms. Lockhart, I notice, but whatever. You buy me my special Friday coffee and sugary goodies; you can use my given name.

I nod and toast the air with my coffee cup. “You’re right.” I down half of the coffee before diving into the fresh pastry, saving half for Justice. “But there’s no rest for the wicked or the tired.”

“I don’t think there’s anything wicked about you. Stick with me. I’ll make sure it stays that way.”

My mouth forms a soft smile. “Thank you for that.” I think. I duck my head and pull up Justice’s name on chat and type out a quick almost there.

I should talk with my workaholic friend about the hours we’re keeping. But being so new at the partner table makes me hesitant. I know I’ll need to make my bones before asking favors for time off.

But when the hired help starts commenting on the bags under the eyes and getting you food because you don’t have time to eat, it should be a sign something needs to give, right?

The dark SUV comes to a stop outside our high-rise, and I elbow the door closed after one last heart-felt thank you for breakfast.

“Oh wait!” I knock on the window and the driver stops suddenly. I jerk the door open and lean in. “My phone. Sorry about that.”

“Wouldn’t want that to happen again.”

“No kidding.” Once in a while is okay, but almost every day this week borders on me losing my mind. Get it together, Kandy. I wave him off and head inside.

New York City is nothing if not beautiful in the late fall. A few ornamental trees with fake orange leaves and twinkle lights decorate the large glass entrance and I duck behind them when I notice the company’s tech guy waiting by the bank of elevators.

Joshua something. I really need to work on my ability to recall names, but his name isn’t my problem at the moment. Keeping hidden is. He’s a whizz with tech but makes my skin crawl. I press a little deeper behind the tree when he turns my way. Handsome, sandy blond hair and aqua-colored eyes give him a California laid-back look. But looks can be deceiving.

Every time I call him to the office to fix my laptop, the creep vibes on my radar ping past one hundred which keep me from jumping at the chance to ride the twenty floors up solo with him.

The second he’s whooshed out of sight I jump to another elevator and head straight for Justice’s office the second the door pings open. I swing through the large maple door and offer up a quick smile.

She holds a hand up and points at the phone in her hand. She mouths new clients, thirty million contract.

Holy shit, I mouth back. Really, I don’t think I’ll ever get used to the outrageous amounts of money tossed around in everyday talk within these walls. Well not ever, but not right this second.

Justice hangs up and there’s a glow about her I know comes from being a new mother to a three-month-old. “How’s the baby and the guys?”

“When I left home they were all asleep on the living room floor. It looked like a toy factory exploded. Everything that girl owns covered every square inch. The baby was on Jacob’s chest fast asleep. I think they had a stuffed toy rager well after two in the morning. That baby girl has all three of them wrapped around her tiny little pinky. Last night they each took turns tending to her so I could sleep.”

“I thought there was something different about you.”

“Yeah, I actually got more than two hours of shut-eye for the first time in forevahhh. Speaking of sleep, have you gotten any?”

“The bags under my eyes that bad?”

“Pretty much.”

I pull out my tablet and thumb through today’s agenda. “Not in recent memory. I haven’t made my bed in over a week at least. I haven’t made it past the couch. Please tell me what it is like,” I tease, passing her the white bag holding the other uneaten half of my Danish.

She takes it and dives in. “Oh. What’s this? Damn that’s good stuff. Since when do you have time in the morning to grab breakfast? Tell me your secrets?”

“I didn’t. Mr. Mackay gave it to me.”

Justice takes another bite. “Who?”

I tap the screen and approve of a few meetings a couple of high rolling clients are requesting through our assistant. “The driver.”

Justice nods and in goes the last little bit. “I don’t think I’ve had a bite to eat that hasn’t come from one of the guys cooking it or a deli in a solid year.”

I huff. “But you’ve got an empire in return. Besides, Christmas is coming and you’ll have two whole weeks of domestic bliss to enjoy with Jacob, Lucian, Seth, and the baby. I doubt you’ll go a single day that those men don’t dote on you.”

I skim the pad of my thumb over the butterfly necklace around my neck.

Justice smiles and I tuck my chin to my chest. Stabs of pain slice through my heart, surprising me. The last thing I want to do is come off as jealous of my best friend’s happiness, but the ache slipping between my ribs and twisting is hard to ignore. I snatch at the butterfly necklace around my neck and stroke the wing.

“Touché. Speaking of…” Justice pushes up from behind her desk and sinks into the couch next to me. “Time for Christmas gifts.”

The tablet in my hand is swiftly replaced with my friend’s hand. “Wait, what?”

Justice turns to me, and we face each other. “Gifts? I don’t have mine for you given it’s only November. Christmas is like five weeks away. Don’t we have a pact to panic shop a week before?”

“Yes, but this is an exception. I have mine for you. Open it!” Justice reaches around the side of the couch and pulls out a silver box with a sparkly red ribbon and places it on my lap.

“This isn’t a fruitcake or something is it?” I tug at the ribbon and when it falls to the side, I lift the lid to find nothing remotely close to fruitcake.

I pick up an elegant white envelope with gold embossed letters that spell out Club Sin in raised letters.

Nerves cause my fingers to tremble over the fine paper. Though I never dared step foot inside the atrociously expensive and elite adult club, the rumors have always piqued my interest. Membership for unconnected people like myself comes with a hefty price tag that hits five figures easily, so I didn’t follow through with my curiosities.

“Justice,” I say tentatively. “What have you done?”

She takes the box and taps my hands impatiently. “Open the envelope already, silly woman!”

Fear of what I know I’ll find inside makes me drag in a harsh breath. But I slide the slip of thick paper from its encasing and peel open the folded sides. It takes me three times to read the invitation before the words sink in fully.

In elegant swirls of flourishing black ink, the words read:

You have been given the gift of desire this Christmas.

The brave of heart need only accept.

Should you count yourself among this elite group, arrive promptly at eight on the night of November 5th at the red door to live out your most daring fantasies and darkest desires. May your every wish come true this holiday season.

Welcome to Club Sin.

The air seizes in my lungs. I look at the date again. Tonight? “You’re kidding.” The cost of this invitation…my head spins. “You have to be sleep-deprived, Justice. Tell me you didn’t just spend ten thousand dollars on me.”

“It was a bit more than that and you are worth every penny and more.”

Justice wears a smile of pure bliss, and for a minute I think she’s lost it. All those sleepless nights must have messed with her head.

She bats a hand in the air. “That’s not important; what is though is you calling the number at the bottom and accepting your reservation. Or I’ll do it for you.” She pats me on the leg. “Either way, this is happening.”

I’m already on my feet and across the spacious office. I look out over the throng of tiny people milling along the streets twenty floors below us and then back at my tablet. “There’s way too much to do for me to spend time on fantasies and whatever else my brain can cook up about what goes on inside those walls.”

I don’t date all that much. The last time I did it landed me in hot water with an overzealous stalker who couldn’t take being stood up, I guess. Not that I meant to leave him hanging, I just freaked out about meeting a stranger for drinks and couldn’t force myself to follow through with the date. After that I scratched my one foray into dating apps and deleted my profile. There were a few double dates before I turned partner, but every single one never returned my calls nor cared for a second date.

Never mind the voice screaming in the back of my mind that none of them stand up to Atlas, Ryder, or Brogan.

Sad, but true. Braving uncharted dating territory just isn’t my thing. After becoming a partner, everything outside of work dried up except the persistent asshole who keeps me triple checking my locks at night and changing my number every other week.

The pain of rejection, no matter how hard I try, never leaves my heart.

“I don’t know, Justice.” I bite at my nail and seriously consider burning the invitation in my hand in a nearby wastebasket.

“Look.” Justice joins me and places her hands on my shoulders. “Let’s get real for a second, okay. Sex. Hot, glorious, bona fide kinky sex happens inside those walls and you and I both know you need it. Or risk having a cold and lonely holiday. I don’t want that for my friend. Not when something can be done about it.”

I huff a laugh recalling how she hooked up with her trio of men. “It’s a little ironic, don’t you think? Me going to a club to get some given how you met your men auctioning off your virginity.”

Justice arches a perfectly shaped brow. “Life’s little ironic jokes. I love it!”

But I’m already shaking my head with the perfect excuse. “We have four contracts, two mergers and one of the clients wants a few hours of our time. It will take forever with us both working eighteen-hour days as is. I can’t afford days off.”

“And that is exactly why you need this. Being a partner comes with perks. Like taking time off without permission. Mergers and clients are not going anywhere.”

As if the Universe is finally working with me, my phone pings, and I silently hope it’s a dumpster fire that requires us to work endless hours to resolve. Justice grabs my phone from where I left it on the corner of the desk before I can.

“See, work work work.” Justice peers at the screen and I cringe and keep the lump in my throat from choking me. While I hope for a raging fire of one kind, I know it’s not. No one with any sense calls before seven in the morning, so it could only be one person.

“Blocked caller?” I ask, already knowing the answer.

She nods and confirms my suspensions. Fuck.

“Are you still getting messages from this asshole? How many phone numbers have you changed already because of this?”

“I’ve lost count. It started up again last night. The messages went from thinking about you heart emoji to close-up dick pics in the span of an hour. He’s not even all that impressive either. He keeps finding my number. I don’t know how. And the random weekly flowers sitting outside my apartment building freaks me out. I’m scared.”

“What do the detectives say? Any news there?”

At that moment all I want to do is pick up a phone and call Brogan or Ryder. Atlas too. They would know what to do, but that isn’t gonna happen.

“I wish. What can they say or do with no name, number, or anything to go on? The dating profile is all gone if it was real to begin with. I report the incoming phone number, they jot it down, but it’s a burner phone. Untraceable. I change my number and he finds it two weeks later. How, I don’t have a clue. I’m close to ditching phones altogether. I’ve already suspended all my social media accounts because of this crap.” And the reason I want to lock myself in my apartment for the holidays, but I keep that tidbit to myself. It’s the only way I can see getting any peace if only short-lived.

“Have your men found anything?” It’s a long shot but I ask anyway.

“Nothing yet, sweetie, but I promise Jacob and Seth have not stopped looking for answers. Whoever this is, he’s crafty and knows how to hide his digital tracks. But we’ll catch him.”

I’m no mastermind lawyer, cop, or detective but it’s going to take something big for my stalker to actually come out of whatever wormhole he’s hiding in.

Justice picks up the phone and snatches the paper from my fingers.

“Wait, what are you doing?”

“Making sure you have some fun. Safe fun. There are three problems you have, my friend— getting laid, hung up on old loves, and the need for good sleep. This knocks all three out of the ballpark.”

“You’re not my boss anymore. I can argue with you on this, you know.”

Mischief lights her eyes. “You could. But I’d still win. Besides, payment has been made and it’s nonrefundable.”

Justice holds up a finger.

“Yes, I’d like to confirm the reservation for Ms. Kandy Lockhart. Yes. Eight this evening. Room one.” Satisfied with herself Justice returns the phone to its cradle.

“Why is it so expensive? Does every room come with the same price tag?”

“No clue. All I know is they dropped that price tag on me to get you in. Maybe it depends on what your needs are. I do know reservations are like gold. Hard to dig up and once found they turn into dreams coming true. Once in the room—by the way, I took care to pick the right one just for you—you’ll need extra time, so I made sure you have that, and I made sure to claim a reservation for a second date.”

I almost choke on my tongue. “Second? I don’t even know if I’ll take the first.”

“You will. What other plans do you have for Christmas Eve? Besides, non-refundable, remember?”

“Are you blackmailing me?”

“Yep.” Justice pulls fresh strawberries from a small fridge tucked out of sight and we settle on the couch again.

“I haven’t had a man’s touch since the night they rejected me, Justice. I don’t know if I can do this. And with complete strangers,” I say honestly.

My friend pops a red berry into her mouth and considers me for a moment. “You have a few hours to get in the right headspace. Trust me when I say tonight will meet every expectation you have of finally taking a man and then some.”

Trust isn’t something I give freely. But I do trust Justice. She always has my back and I have hers.

“You can do this. Once you break through the fear barrier in here,” she taps the side of my head. “You’ll find a side of yourself you’ve never known. It was that way with me and the men. When I sold myself at auction with the hopes of trying to move on from the very men I ended up with, I never dreamed it would actually put me right where I needed to be. You can find that same level of happiness too. Life is more than sliding away to your castle and being lonely.”

Talk about nailing down my life in a nutshell. “I’m happy for you, babe. I just don’t hold any high expectations of happily-ever-after happening for me.”

I’ve tried so many times to move on. I doubt this plan will work. I’ll probably chicken out at the eleventh hour. But Justice isn’t listening.

Over her shoulder I notice the bleak morning I hoped would turn sunny is showing signs of snow instead and I shiver at the idea of going home alone. Again. Maybe it’s me with the problem. Would it be such a bad idea to add a little warmth to my cold, colorless life?

Suddenly, I’m so sick of being inside my head and listening to my own excuses. Every year I do the same thing. Work, home, work again. And when the big C day rolls around I jet off to an island, hold up in a hotel room, watch Christmas reruns and end up eating every meal in front of my computer.

And the days after Christmas. Those are the coldest and loneliest. I spend every single winter night since moving to New York City six years ago solo. The more I think about it the more I see Justice has a point. “You say it’s safe?”

“Yes. Everyone is vetted before they are allowed in.”

I can’t believe I’m asking this. “When is it again?”

Justice looks absolutely stunning wearing a Cheshire smile like a trophy. “T-minus thirteen hours.”

I sit in silence and Justice takes that as acceptance of my fate.

“I’ve already informed the driver you’ll be going home early today. I have a dress fitting scheduled at your apartment for noon and a late lunch for three. My favorite deli will deliver. After that I advise you to get some sleep. You’ll have a long night ahead of you.” Justice is across the room answering her desk phone while I choke on all the details she’s fed me.

“As a partner you get a few perks that come with the job like taking an extra day off and making it a long weekend for burying the past.” She looks pointedly at my necklace, and she doesn’t have to say it. We’re both thinking of the three big elephants in my life.

I guess I’m doing this.

“Ms. Thorne, the driver is ready. Says he’s fueled the car and ready when you are.” Justice’s new assistant’s voice carries over the intercom.

I stand and grab my shoulder bag. Justice sees me to the door and before I leave, I turn to give her a quick kiss. “If I get killed it’s your fault. Don’t let my house plants suffer the same fate.”

Electric green eyes kiss the ceiling. “Drama queen.” Justice pushes my reservation card into my hands. “Can’t have you forgetting that.”

I throw her a wink and turn running into a blue cotton-covered chest.

“Oh damn. I’m sorry.”

Joshua the tech guy throws a hand out and catches my elbow, but I drop my bag and the letter. He picks them up and hands them to me offering an awkward smile.

“Date night?”

“Something like that.”

A pang of adrenaline spikes my blood, and my heartbeat quickens. I step around him and offer a quick apology before rushing for the elevators.

Please, God, don’t let him follow. I look up to find him entering right behind me.

“First floor?”

I nod.

His shoulder brushes mine. “How’s the computer?” he asks. There’s ample space since we’re the only two people on the elevator, but he picks my personal zone to stand in. I count the floors as they go by way too slowly and fight the urge to squirm.

“It’s just fine,” I flat out lie and push down spikes of dread climbing up my spine. “Thanks for fixing the blue screen of death. I almost lost all my work.”

“New phone?” His hand is on the middle of my back, and I take a step forward.

“Phone? Oh, yeah, sure.” I peer down at my hand and realize I’m clutching the thing like it’s my only lifeline.

“We’re here!” The doors slide open, and I rush through the throng of people trying to get on. “Nice chatting.”

“Wait up. I’ll walk you out.”

I wave off Joshua, but he doesn’t seem to mind or pay attention and easily glides up next to me. Talk about not getting a clue. We step through the revolving doors.

The driver is right where he promised to be, and I breathe a sigh of relief. “There’s my car. Thanks for the company.” But Joshua is not getting the message and crosses the last few yards to where the SUV is parked against the curb.

“This man bothering you?”

My driver opens the back door, ushering me inside and steps between Joshua and me, blocking his approach.

“Just helping.”

“The lady doesn’t need your help.” I can hear the ice in my driver’s voice and there’s a hint of danger there too. Whoa. How much is Justice paying this guy?

The younger man snorts and says something I can’t hear. I turn to look out the back window only to see Joshua walking off, a look of hurt and disappointment on his face when he looks back at me. Damn. The last thing I need is to make enemies.

My phone pings, and it’s Justice.

Forgot to tell you, take a pen. You’ll need to sign a contract when you get there. Have fun,

– Love J

What the hell have I gotten myself into?