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L’Opera, Sophie.”
    “I wanted to pay with cash. I’m sorry, I didn’t understand,” she offered, but he cut her off with a shake of his head.
    “Not to worry, you’re my guest tonight. And I’m certain Afke will be more welcoming the next time,” he said, glancing at the girl who was now throwing daggers at Sophie. “Won’t you, Afke?” he asked.
    “Yes, Sir,” she answered, again in English.
    Without a word, he parted the curtains and guided her inside. His fingertips, although light, were still electric on her bare back. “Are you visiting Amsterdam?” he asked as he led the way to a small round table with a ‘Reserved’ sign on it.
    “No, I live here. Moved just a few months ago.”
    “For work?” he asked, offering her a seat.
    She looked up at him. He was an attractive man, late thirties she’d say, with the typical Dutch blond hair and blue eyes. He looked to be just a little older than Michael.
    Michael. God, what was she doing?
    “Yes,” she answered his question, breaking eye contact. It wasn’t entirely a lie. They had moved for a job—it was just that it was for Michael’s job.
    “How are you liking the Netherlands, Sophie?” he asked, just as a waitress came over.
    “It takes some getting used to,” she said.
    He smiled as if he understood. “Glass of wine?” he asked.
    “No, just water. Thanks.”
    “It will help you relax,” he said.
    “Okay,” she nodded and he ordered. Sophie took this time to look around at the scene before her. The club was not large, but it was, as with a lot of buildings in the city, bigger than it looked from the street. If there had been any walls, they’d been removed and replaced by ultra-modern steel support beams—the only things modern in the space. The lighting was dramatic and romantic with plush, old-world furnishings and… other equipment. Tables were scattered here and there and there were bars at both ends of the room. At the farthest end from where they sat was a stage. Not a high one—it was more of a platform—and on it stood some equipment Sophie couldn’t identify, although she’d certainly seen things like it in her online searches of late.
    As far as dress, she was definitely out of place. The women were either completely nude or wearing clothing she couldn’t even imagine owning, much less wearing. Some men were dressed in suits, some with shirts off, but all wore more clothing than the women. She caught the images of a few scenes that were playing out, but was too embarrassed to watch, even though there was nothing she wanted to do more.
    “First time at a club like this, yes?” he asked as the waitress returned to put two glasses of wine down before them.
    She turned to him. He was watching her intently, but there was only kindness in his eyes. She didn’t feel uncomfortable with him. Didn’t feel like he wanted something from her. Something she wouldn’t give.
    “Yes,” she said.
    He smiled and lifted his glass to her. “Well, here’s to the first time,” he said, taking a sip. “I still remember mine and wish it had been at a place like this one.”
    “Why?” she asked, not sure how to behave, what to ask, what not to ask. “Sorry,” she began. “I shouldn’t… that was maybe too personal.”
    He shook his head. “Nothing is too personal. If we don’t share our experiences and help each other, we’ll never be able to fully find and accept ourselves.” He smiled again.
    “I’ve walked by here so many times I can tell you every nick, every pothole on the street!” she blurted out, exhaling, then taking a large sip of wine.
    He smiled again, even as she was embarrassed by her simple comment. “You’re not alone, Sophie. Don’t be embarrassed.”
    “Thanks.”
    “I want to ask you a question and I want you to be completely honest when you answer me.”
    Her face grew very serious and she nodded. With all the lies she’d told lately, would she even be able to tell the truth anymore if she