It could have been a different frog species; admittedly, I was not at all familiar with all Amazonian frog calls. But, since I recently read an article about the giant leaf frog and the medicinal potential of its waxy secretion leading to biopiracy of the species, it was the first frog which came to mind.

At the center of the expansive room a massive arch, which was obviously meant to resemble an eroded sandstone canyon or cave, held an impressively large bar which also appeared to be carved out of eroded sandstone. To one side a man-made waterfall cascaded over the top of the arch into a pool at the base of the bar. The floor around the bar was illuminated with blue lights and, even from our place at the entrance, you could see the water flow beneath clear glass tiles. Furry movement caught my eye and I turned my attention to a previously unseen cage between our location and the center of the room.

“Look,” I leaned close to Elizabeth and pointed the cage, “Wait, that’s a person. There is a woman in there with the monkey and she... she is naked!” I covered my mouth as I noticed the woman was not alone. “Oh my God, that looks like... oh my God.”

Elizabeth started to laugh, I presumed it was at my expression and lack of speaking ability.

Upon closer inspection, I noticed the club did an admirable job of making it appear that the woman was in the cage when, in fact, she was encased in a separate Plexiglas shell within the cage. There were multiple cages in the club; some were at floor level and others were suspended in the trees. Each of the cages held one or more exotic primates or monkeys of the same kind as well as a Plexiglas cylinder which slipped into the center of the enclosure.

However, the woman was not alone within the shell.

I did a half spin and gaped around the room, my wide eyes moving from cage to cage, my mouth hanging open. Behind, or next to, or in front of, or wrapped around each na**d woman was a man dressed in a furry suit which was obviously meant to match the primate or monkey in the cage; the woman and man were play acting and engaging in what I only allowed myself to term as open displays of affection. It was hard to tell for certain what they were doing without venturing close to the cage and studying them for a prolonged period of time. I felt a little sick to my stomach.

“That’s distressing.” I swallowed hard, trying to look anywhere but at the strange theater surrounding us. Elizabeth continued to chuckle lightly as she pulled me into the room and I shot her a hard glare. “You knew about this, didn’t you?”

She shook her head; tears of hilarity were pooling at the corners of her eyes as we navigated around trees; “No, no- I swear I didn’t! I think they’re just making out, I don’t think they’re...”

We stopped at the bar and stood in front of two stools which looked like they were covered in fur. I couldn’t bring myself to sit down. I glanced at her from beneath my lashes and couldn’t help the small smile which pulled at my mouth. She made no move to sit either.

I couldn’t speak any further due to my extreme discomfort with the situation and Elizabeth couldn’t speak as she was caught in a new tsunami of giggles. Her amusement finally became too contagious to ignore when the soundtrack of jungle noises included a brief call from a macaw. I couldn’t help the resigned sounding laugh when it bellowed from my chest.

Elizabeth leaned her elbow on the bar and turned her smiling eyes to mine, “I had no idea what to expect, honestly. One of my patients gave me the tickets. All he said was: ‘Be prepared for something outrageous.’” Elizabeth turned to the bar and signaled to the bartender, briefly inclining her head toward me, “I think they switch it out every few months and try to outdo themselves each time.”

“Is it always a jungle theme?” I twisted my lips to the side in an effort to keep from laughing as I offered a sympathetic tilt of my head toward one of the cages; “I feel so sorry for the poor monkeys. I don’t want to see that, I can’t even begin to imagine how they feel.” Suddenly, the fine hairs on the back on my neck stood at attention uncomfortably and I inexplicably shivered.

I had the overwhelming impression I was being watched.

I skimmed the floor of the club, felt that omnipresent pressure associated with uncertainty and nervous expectation, but couldn’t find any eyes pointed in my direction. I tried to shake off the sensation, hoping it was just the combination of being an unwilling voyeur as well as the lingering distress I felt about my state of undress.

Elizabeth’s smile faded as she considered me and she frowned at whatever expression she read on my face; “Hey,” she placed one of her hands over mind, “We don’t have to stay. Why don’t we have one drink then get out of here?”

I pressed my lips together and shook my head, “No, no. It’s ok. I’m good. I just-” I sighed and let my eyes move over the room, allowing myself to look beyond the cages to the crowd of clothed club-goers which I somehow missed when I entered.

No one was dancing, which was understandable as the music was low and inconspicuous; instead, they sat on large circle shaped cushions which looked like giant lily pads and conversed. There were other groups, mostly in pairs, who snuggled together while encased within booths that had been carved into the bases of the trees.

Everyone was gorgeous, every single person, in that glossy, shiny, plastic way. It was like being in a room of animated mannequins. Their mouths moved but rarely did their expressions change. I’m sure there were famous people present but I didn’t immediately recognize any faces. I began to feel a familiar comfort descend as I became an observer. No one would notice me in this room of plastic women and perfect, sinewy limbs.

“I’m good.” I finally met Elizabeth’s worried gaze and smiled as the bartender approached.

She eyed me with plain contemplation then nodded once, “Ok. But if you want to go then just say the word.”

Before we could order a bleach blond bartender with big brown eyes placed two glistening glasses of what I surmised was champagne on the bar; he gave us a crooked grin which was somehow perfectly paired with his Australian accent.,

“Ladies, these are for you. I’ve also been instructed to put anything else you order on the same tab as well. I’m David. Let me know if you need anything.”

Elizabeth recovered faster than I did; “Uh, I don’t know if we can accept these without first knowing our benefactor.”

His smile widened and his gaze moved over her silky turquoise dress in conspicuous appreciation, “I can’t divulge that.”

“Then we don’t want them.” Elizabeth began to push the glasses back to the bartender but he stopped her by leaning over the bar and leveling his lips with her ear. He whispered something which I couldn’t hear and I frowned, my attention diametrically split between their exchange and the rest of the room.

When he leaned back her gaze followed his movements with obvious suspicion. He merely smiled, the same crooked smile, and winked at her; he added before leaving, “Like I said, let me know if you need anything.”

I met her pensive expression with one of my own; “What did he say?”

“He asked me to drink the champagne. He said if I didn’t drink it he might get in trouble.” She lifted the golden liquid to her lips, her inky lashes hiding the movements of her eyes as they surreptitiously swept over the inhabitants of the bar with renewed interest.

“This is unexpected.” I said, dutifully picking up my glass.

A short laugh escaped her throat followed by an extremely uncomely snort, “Not really, we look hot.” she tipped her glass against mine and lifted it in a toast, “To looking hot and getting free stuff.”

I tapped my glass against hers and we took a sip of the champagne; Elizabeth continued her survey of the room over my shoulder when, suddenly, I saw her eyes widen as she half choked on the bubbly liquid. She set her flute down clumsily and coughed. Her hand went to her chest but her gaze was still transfixed over my shoulder.

“Janie,” she coughed, cleared her throat, then tried again, “Don’t turn-”

“Let me get you some water.” I started to walk around her but her arm reached out and held me in place.

“Don’t-” she coughed, swallowed, her voice now a horse whisper, “Don’t move- don’t. Oh, he’s here!”

“Hey.” A male voice spoke from behind me and it sounded strangely familiar. I turned just my head toward the greeting and was met by the towering form of Sir Handsome McHotpants, clothed in a black suit, open neck black shirt, and startling blue eyes directed squarely at me.

CHAPTER 4

My heart skipped two beats. I turned fully around.

Ohmygod, it’s you.

“Ohmygod, it’s you.” I realized too late that I said and thought the same thing in unison.

He gave me a whisper of a smile, his eyes moving over me with a slow deliberateness that made me shiver even as I felt a dismaying hot flush rise to my cheeks: lips, neck, shoulders, chest, stomach, hips, thighs, legs, shoes. His gaze lingered on my shoes before it traveled upward again.

Finally he said, as his blue stare met mine again, “Yep. It’s me.”

I was speechless; my usually cluttered brain was blank. I could only gape at him. Thankfully, Elizabeth spoke from behind me, “Hi, I’m Elizabeth.”