Free Secret Mercy by Rebecca Lyndon Page A

the phone?
    A sudden pounding on the door made Paige jump.
    “It’s no good pretending, Paige. I saw your car down in the lot.” Selena’s muffled voice sounded from the other side of the front door.
    Paige froze, even though she knew her friend couldn’t see her. She didn’t dare make a sound. Maybe if she were quiet enough Selena would figure she had gone for a walk or was out with other friends.
    A moment later, her phone started ringing again.
    Paige dove for it, fumbling to hit the silent button.
    “Open up, Paige. I can hear your phone, and I can hear you.”

    Crap.
    Paige felt as if someone had piled weights on her as she slunk to the door and unlatched it. If the last few weeks had taught her anything, it was when to admit defeat.
    “Hello, Selena,” Paige said as she opened it. Selena looked phenomenal in her favorite tight, little red dress. Her going out dress. Double crap . “This really isn’t a good time.”
    “Yeah, I can see that,” Selena said. She looked Paige up and down and shook her head. “Damn girl, I had a feeling you weren’t going to be in good shape when you refused to answer your phone, but I had no idea it was this bad.”
    Paige turned away from her friend and headed toward the couch. The air trapped in the cushions whooshed out as she plopped herself down. “Great to see you too.”
    Selena followed her inside and shut the door. She adjusted the large designer bag slung over her shoulder as she took in the sight of Paige’s apartment-turned-cave. “You haven’t set foot outside all day, have you?”
    Paige shook her head. There was no use in lying. Selena would know. The same way she’d known she would be home tonight wallowing in self-pity. Good friends were like that—they could just tell.
    “Well, that’s changing right now,” Selena said. “We are going out.”
    “But—”
    “No, sorry. I’m not accepting any excuses tonight. This is too good of an opportunity to pass up.” Selena eyes brightened. That was never a good sign. The heavy feeling in Paige’s chest increased.
    “What opportunity?”
    “You’re never going to believe this,” Selena said, and started to dig around in her bag.
    “Unfortunately, I have a feeling that I am,” Paige muttered. She had learned years ago never to dismiss anything that her friend said. With Selena, the more outrageous a story was, the more likely it was to be true.
    “Then feast your eyes on this, birthday girl.” Selena pulled out a shiny red card and held it out.
    For a brief second Paige’s pulse sped from something other than anxiety. Excitement. It had been so long that it took her a moment to recognize it.
    “Is that what I think it is?”
    Selena’s smile grew. “Oh, it is.”
    Paige leaned forward and took it. She knew she shouldn’t. Selena would only take it as a sign of approval, but Paige couldn’t help herself.
    She turned it over in her hand. It was stiff and heavy. It looked real. It felt real. But it couldn’t be.
    Embossed letters, a shade darker than the shiny scarlet foil that covered the card so that you had to turn it in the light to see. You are cordially invited to Mercy Club.
    Paige slapped a hand over her mouth.
    “I was hoping you would know what that is,” Selena said.
    Of course she knew—everyone did. Even before the article in last Sunday’s paper, the topic of a mysterious sex club taking over the Arsenal was on the tip of everyone’s tongue. No matter what side of the controversy people came down on, they couldn’t resist speculating on what exactly went on within the walls of the of one of the oldest buildings in San Francisco.
    “How did you get this?” Paige asked.
    “I met a guy in line at Little Skillet.”
    Paige narrowed her eyes. “And you're sure it's legit?”
    “Always so skeptical.”
    “Of random men handing out sex club invitations in breakfast buffet lines? Yes, I am. And you should be too.”
    “If you had seen this guy you would understand. Damn, he