Tramp (Hush Book 1)

by Mary Elizabeth

  “She’s safe,” Talent says. He takes a cautious step forward, holding his hand out. “You don’t have to worry about Lydia. But this doesn’t have to go down like this.”

  “Naomi unwittingly soiled Phillip’s plans by bragging about the arrangement she had at Ridge & Sons, and I sent Lydia instead. To make up for her mistake, she put Hush on the table to make a deal on Phillip’s behalf, and I’ve had the motherfucking feds following my every move for weeks as a result. It’s funny she came to me when she had nowhere to go, like I haven’t had a bullet with her name on it since I found out.”

  Inez presses the gun against Naomi’s head, and she cries out, begging for a chance to tell her side.

  “It’s too late. Without Naomi and me, they’ll only have enough information to dismantle the spa. They’ll make an example out of a few of our girls, but the heart of Hush can be salvaged.” Inez nods toward a large folder of files on the kitchen counter. “Everything you need to oversee Hush is there, Lydia. The names of our girls. The names of our clients. Where the money is. All of it.”

  Without me…

  Her words play like a broken record inside my mind, and when I realize what she means, panic seizes my lungs and I can’t breathe.

  “No,” I plead. Talent holds me back, and I’m too overcome with fear to get free. “Inez, no. There has to be another way. Let them take Hush. We can start over. We can do something else.”

  “Tesora, this is the only way. I won’t let anyone hurt you.” She takes one hand off the gun to pick up the file and tosses it in our direction. The file folder slaps against the countertop closest to us, and Talent reaches forward to retrieve it. Inez’s eyes meet mine, and for a split second, her expression crumbles and she cries. “I love you, Lydia. And I’m so sorry.”

  Holding my hands over my mouth to keep from screaming, I feel utterly helpless and worthless when all I can do is cry. It’s like losing my mother all over again, except this time I don’t run away.

  Inez’s expression hardens and she squares her shoulders resolutely, ready to follow through with her decision. The last words I ever hear her say are, “Talent, please take her out of here.”

  “Wait,” I shout as he pushes me away from the kitchen. “Please, wait.”

  “Baby, we have to go,” Talent begs. “We have to go.”

  And not for the first time tonight, he picks me up off my feet and carries me away. We’re outside when we hear the gunshots.

  We lay low until the investigation involving Hush ends.

  For three months, Talent, Camilla, Wilder, and I follow the probe on television, on the internet, and in the newspapers. Talent and Wilder also listen for inside information at their meetings with the Coppola family. Just like Inez said, the spa was disassembled, and a few girls were arrested for solicitation. Not one single client’s name was exposed, and I’m never called in for so much as an interview. The majority of Hush’s operation sneaks by unscathed.

  “I’m as shocked by the news as you are,” Jessica, an esthetician from Hush, says in an interview for the nine o’clock news. She shakes her head incredulously, like she doesn’t believe the rumors that a prostitution ring was operated out of the spa. “I never suspected a thing. Sounds like a setup to me. Inez was a pleasure to work for.”

  Camilla scoffs from the couch. “That’s the woman who did my Brazilian, right? She knew for sure.”

  “That’s her,” I say from the dining room table where the treadmill used to be. “She totally knew.”

  “Too bad we can’t reopen the spa. She seems like a real asset,” Camilla says. She lifts the remote and turns off our new living room television. “How many more times are you going to look over those files, Lydia? Inez left you everything you need to resume operation.”

  Flipping through the stack of documents Inez left for me, I slide them back into the folder and exhale a large breath. Aside from the money funneled in and out of Hush for tax purposes, Inez didn’t leave a digital trail behind. Maybe it’s a sign of the times when she and Gino started Hush, but she wrote everything down on yellow notebook paper and kept it close for safekeeping. Her files were updated regularly and straight to the point.

  Here are the girls.

  Here are the clients.

  This is how much money we have and where it is.

  Any information tying me to Hush died with Inez, because my name or the names of my clients aren’t anywhere in the files.

  I sent Cara Smith to the grave with her.

  Now that Hush is no longer making headlines, and the FBI has left town, it’s time to start over.

  “Are you heading to the office today?” Camilla asks.

  “Yes,” I say, standing to my feet. “Do you want to come along?”

  “No thanks,” Camilla says. She scoops Dog onto her lap and gives him a kissy face. “I’m sure you and Talent have everything under control. Let me know when you’re ready for me to start.”

  Yael drives me from my apartment to the Ridge & Sons building downtown. It turns out that he’s been married for thirty-five years, has three adult children, and four grandchildren. He retired after a long career as a janitor at the local high school. Still, he hated staying home so much, he started chauffeuring. And now he works for me exclusively.

  “Will Mr. Ridge see you home this evening?” Yael asks as I exit the SUV outside the mirrored building.

  “Yes, you’re free until tomorrow. Thank you.”

  Talent waits for me at the entrance, with his jacket unbuttoned and his tie loose. He relieves me of the file folder and tucks it under his arm before capturing my face in his hands and kissing my lips. I may never get used to the overflowing warmth that envelops me when I’m in his arms.

  His metal stare searches mine like it has so many times before, and he asks, “Are you ready for this?”

  Reaching past him to open the large glass door, I say, “Is anyone ever ready to operate a prostitution ring out of their boyfriend’s law firm?”

  There’s still so much in the air. Will anyone besides Camilla work for me? Will our clients feel safe enough to return in light of the investigation? Giovanni Coppola sees me coming and going from the office. Now that we know each other, we’re polite in passing. But, we don’t know if he’s willing to let us run Hush without interference. Inez said that part of the deal ended with her.

  What I do know is that I have an office with a view of the ocean, a folder with all the information I need to start, and a man who loves me enough to help me try.

  My name is Lydia Montgomery.

  I am the daughter of a stripper.

  And nothing is out of reach when you’re beautiful.

  Coming Soon in the Hush Series

  Harlot (Hush Volume 2)

  Camilla & Wilder

  2021

  Criminal (Hush Volume 3)

  Lydia and Talent Part 2

  2021

  Mary Elizabeth finds words in chaos, writing stories about the skeletons hanging in your closets.

  Known as The Realist, Mary was born and raised in Southern California. She is a wife, mother of four beautiful children, and dog tamer to one enthusiastic Pit Bull and a prissy Chihuahua. She’s a hairstylist by day but contemporary fiction, new adult author by night. Mary can often be found finger twirling her hair and chewing on a stick of licorice while writing and rewriting a sentence over and over until it’s perfect. She discovered her talent for tale-telling accidentally, but literature is in her chokehold. And she’s not letting go until every story is told.

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  “The heart is deceitful above all things and beyond cure.”—Jeremiah 17:9

  This book almost didn’t happen.

  I wanted to quit and never write another novel again.

  Eventually, I dusted off my laptop and wrote most of this book in a matter of weeks. I’ve had the idea for Tramp for years—an escort who might be the person sitting next to you in th
e doctor’s office waiting room. Talent was meant to be her savior. But when I started to write their story, they made it very clear no one needed saving.

  If anyone was saved during the writing of Tramp, it was me.

  My love for storytelling has returned stronger than ever, and Tramp is only the beginning of an epic series. Lydia, Talent, Camilla, and Wilder are far from telling their stories.

  There are two people in particular who supported me during the writing of Tramp. They read the book as I wrote it one chapter at a time, and then all at once.

  Catherine Jones, your name is a constant in my acknowledgments because I literally could not do this without your knowledge, sense of humor, and support. You’ve been with me since before Mary Elizabeth existed, and I’m forever indebted to you for it.

  Misty Walker, you’ll forever be my favorite biased prereader, and the fact that you stuck with me while writing your own books means more to me than I can ever put into words. Thank you for encouraging me until the end.

  To my editor, Paige Smith, who’s never let me down. Thank you for always making time for me and thank you for making it look like I know what I’m doing in the process. People can say what they want about my books, but they’ll never say they aren’t beautifully edited.

  To my editor, Ellie McLove, thank you for always squeezing me in. Thank you for always including me in everything and thank you for being my friend. I’m still waiting for you to get that tattoo.

  Dana, the cover you designed gave me the foundation I needed to jump from and finish this book. Jan, your teasers gave me life!! And our chats on Instagram made receiving a blood transfusion a little easier, even if you didn’t know it. And Candy, who took me on without question. Thank you for helping me push this book on the poor, unsuspecting readers.

  Mary’s Little Lambs, who didn’t abandon me when I went radio silent for a year. Your dedication is admirable. Thank you for being my people.

  And last, but certainly not least, to my husband and children. Thank you for supporting my dreams. I love our life, and I love you.