Archie looked almost disappointed. “That’s the last I heard too. I was hoping there’d be more. He’s clearly attracted to this guy.”
“Clearly,” I said, having no idea what they were on about. I mean, I knew the story, but I did not know enough to speculate.
I hope things worked out for Franklin, though. He was a funny man. I’d mostly interacted with him online in our discussion groups. He was very intent on learning as much about different fetishes as he could, and he became awkwardly sweet and formal when someone gave him a compliment.
It was kinda funny too that he was, like, Master Greer’s age, yet he’d connected with us much younger subs. Franklin had a hysterical banter going on with Noa, for instance.
Kit moved on to what he’d actually run over to tell us, and it had to do with the fire investigation. “I mean, I don’t have proof, but we know one thing. As of this week, the fire marshal still wasn’t ruling out foul play.” Yeah, we knew that part, but we’d been warned it could take weeks, and that’d become true. “And here’s where it gets interesting,” Kit went on. “River and Reese asked Colt to put together a security system for when the house is done, and they asked him to team up with another kinkster called Santiago. Don’t Sloan, Cam, and Noa know him?”
I nodded at that. “He’s from their old community.”
“Well, he recently quit as a police detective to start his own PI business,” Kit said. “And he’s joining Mclean to ‘check things out.’” He made air quotes. “And the thing is—I met up with Gael for breakfast this morning, and I told him because I couldn’t keep my mouth shut. So I cracked a joke and said it was time for us to see if we had any enemies—I swear, it was just a joke—but Gael became really fidgety.”
I furrowed my brow and threw a glance up ahead. We were almost at the tent.
“Did you tell Colt?” Archie wondered.
Kit nodded. “Who told Reese, who told Santiago, and I’m not supposed to say anything to anyone.”
I shot him a look.
“I knowww,” he complained. “But I had to tell someone! What if someone actually started the fire on purpose?”
That seemed farfetched to me. This wasn’t some crime movie, and I’d spent the past few weeks hearing nothing but educated guesses on faulty electrics from Greer, River, Reese, and several others. Master Kingsley too.
“I guess we’ll find out for sure in the next few weeks,” I said.
Honestly, I didn’t feel comfortable with this type of gossip, so I excused myself to catch up with Sloan and Greer.
They were right at the entrance with at least twenty other members, and I didn’t want to lose them in the crowd.
“Daddy!” I hollered.
I swear, ten guys stopped and turned around.
“Sorry,” I chuckled sheepishly.
Sloan smirked wryly and held out his hand for me. “There are a few of us.”
I felt much better once my hand was in his. As fantastic as it felt to say hi to so many people I liked, this was my first official date with Greer, Daddy, and Archie, and I wanted tonight to be magical for us. And that magic rushed through me as soon as we entered the tent.
It felt entirely wrong to call this a tent.
“Wow,” I whispered to myself.
Three chandeliers hung from the vaulted ceiling, with our original one that’d been saved from the main house at the center.
Strings of tiny, tiny lights twinkled along the dark walls, adding to the romantic atmosphere.
A bar had been set up right next to the entrance, and we had three volunteers slinging cocktails tonight. But wait. No, we didn’t. I didn’t recognize them at all. Two guys and one woman. They were new here.
I’d thought for sure I’d heard Daddy mention three subbies volunteering.
Anyway.
Tate had gotten his lounge area across the vast space, with couches and low tables. Lots of bar tables along the sides, but not as many as there would be later, ’cause now we had the stuff being auctioned off too. The items were presented on long tables along the eastern side, with plenty of members already checking them out.
Some would be part of a silent auction, some not. According to Tate, we’d have some members placing bids online too. It’d turned into a whole thing since many hadn’t been able to make it but still wanted to participate.
Wait again! Were those professional servers? Had they hired caterers? I counted seven or eight people carrying around serving trays.
“What would you like to do first, baby?”
“Dance, please.” I was feeling this music. Soft country rock, perfect to sway to.
The chatter was pretty loud in my ears, people everywhere busy catching up and commenting on our community’s revival, and I wanted to shut them out.