They split up

Becky, the March ladies and the other plus ones agreed unanimously. They wanted the proceedings to continue and hopefully end for the evening. Additionally the rooms temperature cut further discussions short.

The guests that received one of those secretive envelopes are less than enthusiastic to leave behind their loved ones, but know better than to argue with them. Or with the man orchestrating this strange event.

“Alright then Becky, I got my phone on me and will wait on you in our room. If he tries any funny business –“, Roger hushed the later part into his wives ear, only to be interrupted with a pat on his shoulder.

“- I’ll cope. You overthink this Roger. We outnumber him what, 20 to 1? It’s fine. And as soon as I get to you, it will be more than fine.”

Becky snakes her hand along his shoulder, down his side and rests it on his pelvis. She circles her thumb over his jeans and leans closer to his ear.

“Mighty fine”, her warm breath tingles on Rogers skin.

“Becky, now? Here? Door to door with all these people?”

“Sorry for quoting you, but *I don’t know*. Something is getting me worked up. And if you don’t want to profit from that, I might have to -”

“Now don’t get cocky with me and say no more. I’ll just remember your family vacation last summer, with Sammy in her sling-bikini. That could get me prepared for you. Maybe we should remember it together. I promise, that would be a night you won’t forget.”, Roger quirks back.

A smirk on her face Becky nudges him to the door and calls after him, “Be careful with your promises Roger Carmine, I might take you up on that.”

Smiling Roger follows the other men out of the room. As he closes the door behind him, he and the others are swarmed by a group of young women, wearing what could only be described as antique black and white maid uniforms, complete with bonnets on their heads.

Without a single word, they nod their heads and each one takes a man by his hand, leading them on different paths away from the study. Roger can hear Charles Marsh growling and throwing accusations, until his maid and him turn a corner and the sounds fade away. Roger inspects the girl, whose hand keeps a tight grip on his. She's a redhead not bigger than 5 feet. Her hair was made up in a ponytail and light freckles decorate her cute little face. But Roger can’t get a good look at her, because the same as the others, she turns around and drags Roger away.

He muses what her name might be, but the only names that come to mind are stage names for strippers. Strawberry, Ginger Snap, Ruby… Oh, but that last one isn’t stripper-exclusive. She could be a Ruby. Or a Rubi. No, the -i makes it strippery again, let’s keep it at Ruby.

Before he can ask her name or what her and the other maids role is in all of this, Roger finds himself at the end of a long corridor. Now, that was fast. He tries to remember the way they came, only sure of one thing: there were stairs involved. It would be even better, if I’d be sure if we took them up or down, Roger wonders.

The girl clears her throat and looks at him expectantly.