Her piles of invitations for Club 33 could have been substituted as a phone book. Through her marriage to Stanley, she had gotten an invitation at least once every week, sometimes two. They were desperate for his appearance, sometimes hers, and if they got lucky they got both of them.
Stripping off her coat she handed it to the man waiting by the door. She took the glass of champagne that was waiting on the small table. Knowing who was going to be there that night, it was just a matter of time before she was approached. And there wasn't enough alcohol in the joint to make her semi drunk.
Dumping the empty champagne glass back on the silver tray, Karen walked up the staircase purposely, her black heels contrasting against the royal red of the carpet.
The purpose of her being there was to welcome another member into the club. The poor soul who would need to spend nearly five thousand dollars to get an invitation to important events, a reservation list that was always open to them, and a frequent trip to the bar and buffet whenever they were there. To spend that much money, it almost wasn't worth it.
But in this day in age it was all about socializing. The more people you knew the better off you'd be. Talking to these people, the richest ones in all of New York pass through the door is like having the number one calling card of the city. The less people who have it the more important it is.
She felt a pair of arms wrap around her waist forcing her to smile at the sensation. She knew who it was and to be honest, she wasn't incredibly happy about it. She turned slightly to see the dark brown eyes of her husband. Shaking her head, silently telling him she didn't want his hands on her, he dropped them and shoved his hands in his pockets.
It was then that she saw the new member passing through the doors, forcing another smile to play at her lips. Stanley had paid for Will Truman, a man they had met a week ago at the theater, to join the club. Stanley took to Will almost immediately, finding him fascinating, finding him worthy of their conversations to revolve around him. It was strange and unnerving. Stan had never taken to someone like this. Especially someone who Stan wouldn't share his bed with.
"Thank you guys again for getting me in here," Will said once he approached them.
"It was all Stanley's idea." Karen told him, her eyes rolling in her husband's direction. Will smiled at Karen and went to shake Stan's hand, who just nodded before disappearing, going in the general direction of the bar.
Karen turned herself away from Will, tilting her head in the general direction of the sitting room, expecting him to follow. She smiled again when she turned to sit, seeing him right behind her. His dark hair matched his dark navy suit and the dark shoes on his feet; he looked good.
"If I make you uncomfortable," Will began. Karen's head shot up, her eyes latching onto his. Uncomfortable was an understatement. Ever since Stan had put the idea that Will could possibly be gay, she wanted to find out. That was the only reason she was here now.
"Why would you say that?" Karen asked. She had inkling, a bad taste in the back of her mouth, telling her Stan made have alluded to something about her. "Did someone tell you that?"
"Your husband told me you are uncomfortable around people you don't know." Karen smiled down into her lap. Stan could be so predictable. She looked back up, her tendrils once again framing her face; she shook her head.
"My husband doesn't know half the things I do or how I feel because he's too busy off doing something or someone else." A few passerby's shot looks at Karen and Will. So she might have said it a little louder than necessary, but it was the truth. She took Will's hand and pulled him down to sit next to her. "My husband has said a few things about you."
"And what would that be?" Will asked, taking two glasses of champagnes off the offered tray, handing one to Karen.
"He said that you were gay," She said, the ending in a whisper. Will looked like he was ready to spit his drink out.
"I might have told him that. It was just to get out of a marriage proposal." Will told her. "It was my friend from college. She wanted to sleep with me and so I said no because I wanted to wait until I got married. So that prompted a marriage proposal and before I had the chance to process it, she was already telling her family."
"So naturally you just tell her your gay." She laughs. "What happened then?"
"I didn't let her leave the kitchen and I told her that I was gay." He shrugged his shoulders. "It didn't help that I had an annoying roommate if you want to call him that, telling me I was gay. So I just acted on it."
"So answer me this," She said. "Are you gay?"
"If I was do you think I would be sitting here with you when I could be hitting on the bartender or anyone of these waiters?" She felt the color starting to creep into her cheeks. He sure knew what to say. "And I've wanted to kiss you since I've met you," He added in a low whisper, his voice dropping.
Just then Stan appeared in the doorway with a glass of alcohol beckoning them over. Their table was ready. And for once Karen was glad that Stan was there to pull them out of this suddenly awkward situation.
Stan had pinned Karen next to Will making everything once again, awkward. It's not like she hadn't thought about what type of kisser he was. If he was soft or dominating. She thought about the way he would touch her, soft at first more tempting as the time went on. It was a fantasy and as long as it stayed that way, they would be okay.
"I have to go to Japan," Stanley announced sometime during the dinner course. "Apparently some new intern screwed with the computer system and they don't know what's up or down."
"And you have to go because you know everything about computers?" Karen asked, stabbing at her vegetable side dish. "Why can't you just send one of your associates?"
"Karen, I'm just trying to get this business back on it's feet. Shouldn't take me more than a month to deal with it."
"That's what you said the last time you went and it took you almost a year to get back." She said darkly. Her voice dropped a few octaves. "Or were you finished in a month and decided to screw a hooker for the rest of your time?"
Stanley's eyes looked up and matched hers. He didn't look away and neither did she, but after sometime she was the first to look away, shoving her food further out in front of her. She stood up and walked away from the table, no doubt in the direction of the bathrooms. She got like this when she hit something on the head. It didn't bother her when she found out about it, just bothered her when she made it become reality.
"Well Will," Stan said standing up. Karen hadn't returned and they were well into desert now. "I hope you enjoyed yourself. I have a meeting tomorrow before going off to Japan. Do tell Karen I'll see her at home,"
With that Stan walked away from the table, grabbing his coat from the poor soul who was standing at the doorway. The man looked at Will, fright in his eyes for a flash before turning his head away. Will saw a flash of black whisk by the doorway moment's after Stan left. Feeding his curiosity he followed it up the flight of stairs leading into the more fancy part of the Club.
It was the Conference Wing, long wooden conference tables perfect for board meetings, inductions into the club. He had been there earlier in the week.
It was the last room on the right that he found Karen sitting back in a chair, her bare feet propped on the table, her heels left at the door. She looked relaxed, lying back like that, even though she was still visibly upset.
"If you're here to tell me Stan left, don't." She said, her eyes still not open. "He would have left when I did, but he didn't want to be rude to you."
Will took a seat in the chair next to her. If anyone passed by and took it upon themselves to look on them it would look like a meeting. He thought about pulling her feet into his lap, massaging them, but it would have been too intimate. It would have been inappropriate.
So Will just sat there with Karen as she ranted and raved about her husband, her husband's hookers and the bills she finds in various places within her house. Some people never change. Stanley Walker was one of them.