“So, a respected financial journalist and an award-winning interior designer walk into a BDSM club…” Caroline Preston trailed off as she perused her surroundings with typical Manhattan coolness, wondering where they’d stashed the stockades.
“And nothing. That’s the entire joke.”
Eliza, Caroline’s best friend since their days at Columbia, chuckled under her breath. “We just walked in. Try and last a minute before condemning it.” They climbed onto plush leather chairs at the ultra-sleek bar. “Who knows? You might even—gasp—have a good time.”
Caroline sent her a skeptical look. “One drink, and then we go get dumplings and fro-yo. That was the deal.”
“You’re forgetting that I’m here because you asked me to come.” Eliza tried to place a credit card on the bar¸ but
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