room was rarely used. Employees and patrons complained the low lighting was unsuitable for reading, the dark corners and flaking plaster walls, depressing. But the Red Tote Book Club found the space atmospheric, and perfect for sipping tea or smuggled-in wine during their monthly get-togethers.
Gabrielle moved around the room, dusting lightly and straightening the chairs. At the sound of a rap on the door, she looked up and smiled as four members filed in, talking and laughing amongst themselves. They greeted Gabrielle, each turning a smile in her direction as they claimed a chair. The women were all in their early to mid-thirties, and from their appearances, each of them had come directly from their jobs.
Cassie Goodwin was an architect with shoulder-length hair the color of strong coffee, and intelligent blue eyes. Her smart chinos and long-sleeve button-up shirt were neat and modest, while her practical shoes were dusty, presumably from a job site. Cassie was friendly to everyone, but there was a wariness about her that hinted of past heartache.
Page Sharpe, a shy administrative assistant, might as well have been dressed in camouflage. She pushed a fat plait of auburn-colored hair over the shoulder of a drab dress that said, “Don’t look at me.” Her expression and emerald green eyes were demure, but Gabrielle had seen for herself the way Page lit up during their book discussions. She was a banked fire, that one.
Wendy Trainer, by comparison, was a pixie blonde firecracker who was always ready with a joke and a laugh. She’d found her niche as a party planner. Her exuberant, funky clothing reflected a gregarious personality, but Gabrielle suspected that Wendy used humor to cover for loneliness.
Jacqueline Mays was undoubtedly the most reserved woman Gabrielle had ever met. The auditor’s black hair was wound into a tight bun, her pale skin flawless, her hazel eyes, unflinching. Her slender body was bound up in a mannish suit. Gabrielle wondered if the woman even needed the severe black glasses she wore, or if Jacqueline used them as a shield.
Everyone had their secret reasons for being here.
As they each revealed goodies they’d brought to share—chocolates, fresh strawberries, cheesecake bites, and wine, both red and white to suit each person’s taste, the door opened and their last member strode in.
As always, Gabrielle noted, Carol Snow managed to separate herself from the group. She arrived alone and left alone. Of all the women, Carol had also revealed the least about herself. After meeting for over six months, Gabrielle couldn’t get a fix on the beauty whose hair was the color of brass and whose clothes were of the highest quality. But from Carol’s comments on the books they read, Gabrielle had gathered that the woman had a motive for everything she did. As was customary, Carol nodded hello to everyone and locked the door to dissuade accidental snooping.
As the women settled in, Gabrielle glanced around the room. So different, all of them. Yet something had compelled each one of them to respond to her online ad about a new kind of book club for women who were looking to add a little spice to their entertainment reading. Some part of her had feared and expected the respondents to be women with blatantly subversive interests. But to her delight, all five women were not only strangers to each other, but discreet and largely unassuming. Yet they didn’t shrink when, at that first meeting, Gabrielle had passed around a suggested reading list of the best erotic literature ever written.
It was party-girl Wendy who had suggested that they each buy a red tote of their choice to stow their steamy books, and the Red Tote Book Club was born. To outsiders, their group had the appearance of just another stuffy book club. Only the members were privy to the decadent recitations as they each read aloud their favorite scenes, and to the candid conversations afterward as they discussed shifting sexual roles throughout history and in contemporary times.
As Gabrielle glanced over the members, affection filled her heart. She was older than the other women, approaching forty. And she was alone. In fact, the one thing the six women had in common was that none of them were in a committed relationship. But she didn’t want the younger women to make the same mistakes she had, to wait until it was too late to find a loving partner. Part of the allure of being around books all the time was her affinity for happy endings. And she’d decided it was time for a field trip, so to speak.
After the wine was poured and the delicacies passed around, Gabrielle addressed the group. “This evening, I have a challenge for you. I asked you to be thinking about the one book we’ve read over the past few months that resonated with you, and why. Have you made your selections?”
The women shrugged and nodded in turn.
“Good,” Gabrielle said. “Because I’d like for you to take the book club material one step further.”
She paused and looked around at the expressions of anticipation—some eager, some anxious.
Gabrielle wet her lips. “I dare you to take the book that most spoke to you, that most changed you. Then each of you pick a month and, using that book’s themes and lessons…seduce the man of your dreams. Putting the words into action, so to speak.”
The room vibrated with shocked silence. Eyes widened and smiles faltered. Glances were exchanged. The women shifted in their chairs.
“Seducing a man is a strange assignment for a book club,” Carol Snow remarked, her voice suspicious. “Why would you ask us to do something like that?” Carol’s body language was suddenly nervous. She glanced around the corners of the ceiling, as if she were afraid they were on hidden camera.
Of the five members, Gabrielle realized, Carol was the most skittish about sex and love. She would be the hardest one to win over. Gabrielle hesitated, then inclined her head. “A fair question. And the truth is, I don’t want you to be alone when you’re pushing forty, like me, and asking yourself ‘what if?’”
She spread a smile over the group. “In each of you, I detect a timidity about your own sexuality, yet you were brave enough to join this book club. That tells me that whatever part of yourself you’ve repressed, you have a secret desire to let it out. That’s what this assignment is all about. Letting it out. Being your authentic sexual self. Still, it’s up to each of you to decide if seducing the man of your dreams is…worthwhile.”
Gabrielle’s heart thudded, half expecting the women to bolt for the door, with Carol Snow in the lead. If so, her grand experiment would be over before it had begun. If these younger women were successful in seducing the men of their dreams with the confidence gained from reading the book club books, she planned to try it herself. But if this group of young, vibrant women failed, she was doomed.
The air was heavy with anticipation. Then, one by one, they met her gaze.
“Okay,” Cassie said, angling her chin. “I’m in.”
“What do I have to lose?” Page said with a shrug.
“I’m up for it,” Wendy offered.
“I’m willing to give it a try,” Jacqueline agreed.
All eyes turned to Carol, who seemed to be struggling with the concept.
“The assignment is optional, of course,” Gabrielle interjected. “No one should feel pressured to do something they don’t want to do.”
Carol pursed her mouth, then murmured, “I’ll think about it.”
“Excellent,” Gabrielle said, clasping her hands. “This will be fun, you’ll see. And life-changing. You’re each going to need a target and a plan.”
“And more wine,” Wendy quipped. She raised her glass. “Here’s to seduction by the book!”
They all clinked their plastic glasses together, although Carol was slow in joining.
As the bittersweet sting of the red wine flowed over her throat, Gabrielle happily surveyed the flushed, animated faces and wondered how each woman would rise to the erotic challenge. Let the experiment begin.
1
CASSIE GOODWIN