An hour later, I was exiting Mr. Taylor private car adorned in the little lacey number hidden beneath the black coat I was wearing. My mask in place and red lipstick to accent, I walked on his arm into Miami's hottest club, Velvet.

The sounds of people laughing and the beats of the music pulsated through me. I was entranced by what I was seeing. There were women and men everywhere scattered in very revealing clothing or no clothing at all. Lace, leather, and silk galore lined the entryway and cascaded through the archway towards the dance floor.

“May I take your coat, ma'am?" a valet asked at the entrance...