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I needed some liquid courage.
    Pouring the rich, ruby liquid into a glass, I looked towards the front of the limo. Jessop still had the divider lowered.
    “Comfortable?” he asked.
    Motioning around, I said, “Definitely. It's really nice in here.”
    He nodded in approval, guiding the limo down the street. I wanted to drill him for info, except I couldn't think of a subtle way to do it. Instead, I sipped the wine, the tart, fruity flavor spreading over my tongue like a warm sunrise.
    Settling deeper in my seat, I crossed my legs and tried to enjoy the silence. Through it all, I kept swinging my foot over my knee. Every few minutes, I'd adjust on the seat, fidgeting beyond control.
    Time melted into a meaningless lump. I didn't have a clue how long we'd been driving for, or where we were even headed. I'd finished the glass of wine, and was on a second, when the limo slowed down. “We're here,” Jessop said, cracking the divider.
    Squinting through the tinted glass, I saw he'd parked in front of a reddish glowing entrance. There were men outside, arms crossed to show off their muscles. Security guards, I realized. What is this place? A club?
    Jessop opened my door, letting the cool night air waft into the car. His gloved hand waited, body language making it obvious he expected me to step out. He wasn't being presumptuous; what else was I going to do after coming so far?
    Taking his hand, I put my shaking, heeled shoe onto the curb. The men by the door looked my way. Leaning towards Jessop, I whispered, “He's inside?” The driver gave a quick nod. “Where are we, exactly?” I could see no name on the brick building.
    “The Red and Ripe, one of his favorite places.” Nodding towards the doors, he ducked his head. “Go on inside, he's waiting for you.”
    Waiting for me.
    I hovered there, poised on that dark street that was crowded by old brick buildings and empty warehouses. I didn't know the area, but it had to be a shadier part of downtown. Was this really where I was supposed to meet S?
    Did you expect the Four Seasons? I mused to my own chagrin. Who cares where I am? Truthfully, I'd have met him at a greasy diner and been just as excited.
    Jessop waited, the guards waited, and I stood sandwiched between their stares. Clearing my throat, I strolled over the cracked ground towards the burly men. Their chins lifted, eyes looking me over more hungrily than I liked.
    I wasn't used to being ogled, and my arms crossed over the creamy skin of my chest that the dress had left exposed. “Hey there,” I said, my words a white puff in the cold air. “Mind if I go on inside?”
    They exchanged a quick look. “What's your name, honey?” one of them asked.
    My lips crinkled in a frown. “Alexis, it's Alexis. Not honey.”
    He snorted, glancing at a list in his hand. The other guard said nothing, but he kept leering. “Fine, Alexis. You're not on here.”
    “What?” I dropped my hands. “That's impossible.”
    They both rolled their eyes, like they heard this a lot. “No Alexis on here, doll. Get in your fancy car and—”
    “Pet,” I said quickly, my mouth faster than my brain. That's what he'd put down. “Check under Pet.”
    Running a fat finger down the chart, the balder of the two guys nodded. “In that case, looks like you can go in.” Standing aside, he gestured to the dark door set into the building. “Have a fun time.”
    Behind me, I heard tires rumbling; Jessop was pulling the limo out of view. If I wanted to back out now, I'd have a hell of a time.
    Standing taller, I stepped past the men with my jaw set in a line. Pushing through a thick and heavy red curtain, I was assaulted by the thrum of music. In its wake came the heat of bodies.
    People filled the space, the room rounded to match the curved ceiling. Drapery hung from dark wooden beams, and the lights along the walls kept up the constant crimson hue. The air was all cinnamon, making my skin tingle like I'd been rolling in gingerbread.
    The Red