by It Girls
Later. Now you need a plan!
A last-ditch effort gelled and Chloe knocked on the door. "Garrett," she took a chance. "Please, I will dye my hair. I will do whatever I must. I'm desperate." She put a plea in her voice and hoped it didn't botch her Russian dialect. "I have no one. Nothing. If you'll please just give me a chance…"
The door cracked open. He switched to Russian, too. "Come in, then. I can at least look at you."
She smiled and stepped inside.
He looked her over, then twirled a finger. "Turn around."
Turn. She could do that. No problem. She'd learned turning in the best damn finishing school in Sweden. Her heart raced and she hoped it didn't explode. She did a slow turn.
He let out a little groan. "Take off your coat."
She removed it, draped it over her arm, then turned again.
He nodded. "How far did you get in school?"
Chloe paused just a second. His tie tack was a knock-off, too. Brooks Brothers would not be caught dead selling it. "I'm self-taught," she said with a little shrug. "I lacked money for university, but I am well read."
Doubt riddled his eyes and he rubbed the back of his neck. "That could be a problem."
She smiled to soften a challenge in her tone. "Test me."
He fired off half a dozen questions about everything from wine to world politics. Clearly surprised by her answers, he then tried yet another. "Name two art museums."
She dipped her chin. "Any specific place?"
He smiled. "New York?"
"The Museum of Modern Art, Whitney Museum of American Art, the New Museum of Contemporary Art, the Museum for African Art, Guggenheim Museum…"
He was surprised, but not impressed. "And in Paris?"
"Louvre Museum, Musée Rodin, Musée National Picasso…"
"Rome?" His eyes glittered.
"Gallery of the National Academy of St. Luca."
"Another?"
She paused only a second, then added, "Museum of Galleria Borghese."
"Frankfurt?"
She decided to trick him. "Deutsches Architekturmuseum."
"That's not art." He frowned.
She gave him a slow, sexy smile. "It is if you're an architect."
"I'm impressed," Garrett admitted, a new appreciation for her sparkling in his eyes. "Do you speak languages other than Russian?"
"French, German and Spanish."
He hiked his brows. "And you're self-taught, you said?"
"Largely," she said, thinking fast. "I had a mentor who was appalled by ignorance." She lowered her lashes. "He was very good to me."
Understanding lightened Garrett's expression and his doubt disappeared. "Ah, I see." He paced between a table and the door. "So with all these skills, why are you unemployed?"
"Honestly?"
"Always," he insisted.
"I have no papers to be here," she confessed. "I can find work, but to build a career, I need papers. That takes money," she said earnestly. "And I have a tiny problem there."
"What kind of problem?"
She dipped her chin and looked him right in the eye. "I prefer champagne, gourmet meals and intelligent company over time clocks and chains to a desk."
"I see your point." He nodded, a smile teasing his full lips. "Have you ever modeled?"
She let out a delicate laugh. "I'm built like a woman, not a stick."
"True." Garrett smiled, appreciating the difference. "You have a certain charm, Kira."
"Thank you." She feigned licking at her lips, careful not to actually touch the film.
"I'm willing to give you a try."
"Really?" She forced herself to beam.
"Yes," he said. "Special Reserves Escorts is hosting an event this coming weekend. If you do well there, then we'll make the arrangement permanent."
"Fabulous." She widened her eyes. "Will I be paid for this event? I need money now."
He frowned. "For drugs?"
"For food and shelter. I have no place to stay."
A new interest lighted in his eyes. "So you just arrived in the U.S.?"
She nodded.
Pleased, he pulled out his wallet and passed her five hundred-dollar bills. "Come back here Friday at noon— and dye your hair brown."
Chloe took the money and walked to the door. "Thank you."
"Kira?" He cocked his head, and when she looked back, he added, "Don't be late, and don't even think about taking my money and not showing up. I won't take that kindly."
"I'll be here," she promised, suppressing a cold chill. "I've nowhere else to go."
He patted her on the shoulder and spoke softly. "I'm sure you'll find a home with Special Reserves."
Her skin crawled. "Wonderful." She walked out and closed the door. Her part of tonight's assignment was a success. But should she celebrate or mourn?
Riding the elevator down, she replayed his questions in her mind. The interview confirmed the situation being exactly as the Governess and Renee predicted, and that had Chloe trembling head to foot.
She walked into the bar to wait for Emma, certain it'd take at least a double— maybe two— to get calm enough to stop shaking. Garrett almost definitely had marked her for slave trade.
Chapter 4
The bar was crowded and the din of voices nearly drowned out the soft music from the piano. Chloe scanned the dimly lit room for a table, sat down and looked to see what people were drinking. Most sipped at beer. Wanting to feel close to Jack, she ordered a mojito then demanded her insides stop shivering and settled in to listen to the music.
Half an hour later, Emma came in. Chloe caught her eye, and Emma nodded, surprised but clearly pleased to see Chloe already there.
She rushed over and sat down beside her. "What happened?"
"I come back Friday for an event they're hosting." She touched a fingertip to her red wig. "He took one look at me and got spooked. He specifically told Harvey send only brunettes."
"They switched us," Emma said. "Warren thought I was Oksana, and I was supposed to be a brunette, too."
Chloe's stomach clutched and her shoulders tensed. "Think the switch was deliberate?" The red wigs definitely had been.
"No. Harvey would have interceded. It had to be a clerical error on their end," Emma said. "I come back Friday, too, so we're set."
"Did he put you through the paces?"
She nodded. "Music." Fortunately, mostly due to her love of piano, she was well versed. "I got orders to dye my hair."
"Me, too." Chloe sipped at her drink.
"Well, at least now you can ditch the confidence crisis and relax." Emma blew out a relieved sigh.
She had old-money confidence and the personal esteem that came from being raised by non-neurotic, disgustingly healthy parents. If Chloe named one Gotham Rose the It girl, it'd be Emma.
Dropping her voice, Emma leaned forward on the table. "Very interesting scenery." She held her gaze on a guy just sitting down two tables over.
Chloe looked at him and did a double take, her breath catching in her throat. He was gorgeous. Great shoulders, square jaw, strong face and classic navy Brooks Brothers suit. His tie sucked and the black-frame glasses were a little heavy, obscuring his eyes, but he was definitely yummy. Her interest piqued, she smiled at him.
He smiled back, and a little ripple of pleasure tiptoed through her chest to her belly.
"Put your glasses on," Emma said softly. "Do it now."
"Oh, hell." Who here would recognize her, for pity's sake? Between the wig and the leather, she looked nothing like herself. Still, she fumbled in her coat pocket and shoved on the fricking glasses.
"Chloe, listen to me."
She turned to Emma, her skin between her brows wrinkling.
"My bones were right."
"Shut up." Chloe grunted. "Really?"
Emma nodded. "Warren confirmed it."
Chloe went rigid. "I don't believe it."
"Believe it." Emma motioned the waitress. "Unintentional, of course.
But confirmed."
"Marcus?" Chloe's heart sank.
"No."
The slave trade. Chloe considered it confirmed, too. Intel's identified pattern was consistent with her experience. "Yeah, same here."
A petite blonde with one ear quadruple-pierced and a black skirt nearly as short as Chloe's walked over, carrying a tray. "May I help you?"
Emma smiled. "What kind of champagne do you have?"
"Dom Perignon 1996, Veuve du Vernay, Champagne Mumm, Korbel, Perrier Jouet, Grande Cuvee, and Roderer Cristol."
"Grande Cuvee," Emma said.
"Glass or bottle?"
Emma looked shocked. "One can buy champagne by the glass?"
The waitress grinned. "One can here."
Emma still hadn't recovered, so Chloe said, "We'll take the bottle." Kristi could just get over it. Chloe needed a drink.
The waitress nodded and then walked over to the bar. Scant minutes later, she returned with the champagne in a silver-bucketed stand and set it beside the table. The cork had been popped. She filled two glasses, then seated the bottle back in the crunching ice. "Enjoy." She walked away.
"Thanks." Chloe curled her fingers around the glass stem.
Emma sipped at her champagne and spoke softly. "I'll be happy when we're out of this."
"We'll have to strengthen the connections when we come back on Friday." Resigned, Chloe swallowed two draws on her drink. "How did you find out about the slave trade?" She frowned. "Are you sure Warren wasn't jerking you around?"
"I'm sure. I beat the hell out of him."
"You what?" Chloe whispered a shout.
"No, no. It's okay," Emma said. "Seriously. It was part of the interview. Zero tolerance policy on sex, but lots of leeway in other areas."
Chloe shuddered. "Well, at least it worked." She sneaked in another appreciative glance at Mr. Brooks Brothers, and again felt the ripple. Her eye candy was moving toward the door. Following him with her gaze, Chloe spotted a man she instinctively recognized. She froze. The light had to be playing tricks on her. He was on a plane to London. He turned toward her, and she gasped. "Jack!"
"I thought he was in— " Catching Chloe's expression, Emma looked back and saw him. "Son of a bitch. Who's the brunette?"
Anger replaced shock and burned in Chloe's belly. "I don't know. But unless she can teleport him to London, it doesn't much matter. Let's go." She slid off her chair, grabbed her coat and purse, so furious she was shaking.
"You're going to confront him?" Emma scrambled to catch up. "Bad idea, honey. Remember where you are. Remember why!"
Too angry to listen, Chloe walked up to his table and just stood there until he stopped talking and looked up at her. His eyes widened in shock.
"This is London?" Chloe ignored the woman with him.
Regret washed through his eyes. "Oh, no."
"Sorry to interrupt. This will take just a second." She spared the woman a glance, then bent low and whispered in Jack's ear. "I trusted you, you lying son of a bitch."
"I can— "
"Save it, darling." She smiled. "It was enlightening to see you again." She kissed him, activating the film on her lips and hoping when he went lights out, he broke his damn nose.
He slumped forward, dropped face-first onto the table, and hit it with a thud.
Feigning a surprised look, she turned a cool gaze on the woman. "Apparently, he still can't hold his liquor."
Emma grabbed her sleeve. "Let's go."
"He loves me, eh?" Chloe turned toward the door.
A camera flash blinded her.
Oh, hell. This was not good. This was really not good.
Emma swerved, seeking an alternate exit. Chloe started to follow, keeping her back to the camera— and recognizing the woman standing behind it. That bitch of a reporter, Rubi Cho. Chloe's stomach knotted. Damn it.
"Renee is going to kill us." Emma groaned.
"This way," a man said.
Chloe looked up and saw her eye candy. Emma started to turn away, but Chloe grabbed her sleeve and followed him. He shielded them from Rubi all the way to the street, preventing any more photos.
Jimmy stood curbside at the limo with the door open. Emma got inside. Chloe hesitated and turned to the guy. "Thanks."
He didn't smile. "You're welcome."
She couldn't move. He had the most unusual eyes she'd ever seen, a haunted gray that mirrored how she felt inside. Jack had lied to her. She'd dared to trust him and he'd lied. And these eyes understood the pain of that betrayal…
"Hurry, Chloe," he said. "Rubi is almost here."
She stilled. "How do you know— ?"
He coaxed her, nudging her shoulder for her to get in the limo. "Next time." Bending, he reached for the hem of her coat and tucked it inside.
She turned her head to thank him and her lips collided with his. Shock widened his eyes. His knees folded. He collapsed toward her, half in and out of the limo.
"Oh, God!" Emma shrieked. "What did you do?"
"It was an accident." Chloe pulled and tugged at the man, trying to get him into the car. "Jimmy, help me!"
He rushed out and around, heaved the man in and slammed the door, then slid back behind the wheel. Before his own door shut, he punched on the gas.
"Oh, God. I can't believe this!" The unflappable Emma wailed. "Do something. His head's in my crotch."
Chloe tugged at his shoulders, sliding him off Emma and trying to get him onto the opposite seat. "Could you stop screeching and help me here?"
"Help you?" Emma positioned her knee under his stomach, got her arms against his chest and shoved. His head banged against the door.
"Damn. That had to hurt." Chloe winced.
Emma glared at her.
"It was an accident," Chloe repeated, earning herself another glare. Finally, they got him situated on the seat.
"He's out cold." Flustered, Emma swiped at her hair. "Damn it, Chloe. Five minutes ago you see Jack with another woman, and now you kiss this guy? Don't you think you're moving a little quick on a pickup?"
"Don't be stupid. I'm crushed. I didn't mean to kiss him."
"Ladies, stop. Stop."
"I didn't kiss him." Ignoring Jimmy, Chloe defended herself. "We just bumped mouths."
"Well, you'd better just bump into a plan. What the hell do we do with him for the next few hours?"
"I don't know." Chloe pressed a hand to her fluttering stomach. "I couldn't leave him on the street. He knew my name." He'd helped her.
Emma looked at her as if she were dense. "Of course he knew your name."
Chloe rounded on her. "Do you know him?"
"I've seen him, sure. But I don't know him."
"Where have you seen him?"
"At the G.R.C. He comes to see Renee once in a while."
"I've seen him, too." Jimmy chimed in. "He's one of the Governess's representatives. Never heard his name, though."
"Whoa." Chloe couldn't believe it. "What's he doing at Hollow Hill?"
Emma glared at Chloe again and swiped at the wrinkles in her skirt. "I expect the Governess sent him as our backup." Her bracelet caught on her sleeve and she worked it loose. "We've got to do something with him."
"We could take him to the G.R.C.," Chloe suggested.
"Won't that look good?" Emma challenged her. "Renee will report it to the Governess. She'll fire him and us."
"Oh, no." Jimmy's voice carried back to them. "Rubi Cho's tagging us. She definitely recognized you two."
"Can this nightmare get any worse?" Emma half-turned to look out the rear window. "Lose her, Jimmy." She looked at Chloe. "You know, the Rose agents should form a strategic business alliance, buy that damn paper and fire her."
"I've thought the same thing," Chloe confessed. "But she'd follow us anyway, just to annoy us."
Jimmy sped up, made a couple quick turns, and then opened up the engine on the straightaway. Chloe looked back, but didn't spot Rubi's car in the traffic. "What happened?"
"See the blac
k SUV?"
She spotted it four cars back in the right lane. "Yeah."
"I don't know who's driving it, but they've got Rubi boxed in, and it's deliberate," Jimmy said. "Jack maybe?"
"No," Chloe said, remembering Jack thudding nose down on the table. "It's definitely not Jack." The lying son of a bitch. Another woman. After that call to Chloe about missing her already and their incredible morning?
Emma looked back again. "It's Erik. I saw him in the lobby."
Chloe nearly choked. "What was Erik doing at Hollow Hill? He never goes there, it isn't trendy enough for him." This was beyond bizarre. Jack and Erik and the Governess's representative all in a place none of them would normally be?
"Good question," Emma said. "And I'd be asking it right after I dealt with Mr. Brooks Brothers here, if I were you."
"We have to figure out what to do with this guy." She motioned with a wave. "We can't leave him in the car for two hours."
"Why not?" Emma asked.
"He's vulnerable, Emma. He helped us." Chloe smacked her lips. "Do you have a loyal bone in your body?"
"You know better than that. Just because you're devastated about Jack being a two-timing ass, don't get pissy with me."
"Call Renee. She or the Governess can tell us how to handle it," Jimmy said, trying to get them back to the matter at hand.
"No way." Chloe wasn't having any part of that. "She'll report this and the Governess will be all over him for letting me drop him. He was helping us and I bumped him. It's totally my fault he's out— even if it was an accident— and I'm not letting him get busted for it."
"She's right about that, Jimmy," Emma said. "The Governess will bust him— and likely us, too."
She definitely would if she heard about Jack. Dropping him hadn't been an accident. "I'm taking him home with me," Chloe announced. "Damage control. Frank's at home, and the fewer who know about this debacle, the better." If Tatiana caught wind of it, she would gloat until they died of old age.
"Agreed. That's safe."
"Whatever," Jimmy said, "but you should tell Renee."
"No," Chloe vetoed that. "When he wakes up, I can explain what happened, and he can just go…wherever it is that the Governess's representatives go when they're not around us."
"If he doesn't shoot you first." Emma pulled the film off her lips and then retrieved her lipstick and little gold mirror from her purse. "Okay, that's settled." Emma painted her lips with the tip of the tube. "On to another matter."