Page 105 of Lavish

I stood, and Jenese cleared her throat.

“Remember this feeling, Serena.”

I paused for half a second.

“The rush. The fear. The stakes.” Her smile curled like smoke. “That’s what power tastes like—when you know just how fast it can all fall apart.”

I spun around, the plush carpet yielding softly beneath my feet as I hurried from the lounge. I wanted to get back home. Back to Miles.

Hell, I’d take Doughboy over this.

Down the hall, I could hear the low hum of voices coming from the front door. I turned the corner and froze.

Mama.

My first thought was to run, but I couldn’t. I saw her talking to the receptionist, and the receptionist pointed back toward me, her eyes still on Mama.

I stumbled backward in a panic. I had to hide.

My heart pounded in my chest as I hurried down the long, dimly lit hallway, each echoing footstep amplifying the feeling that I was losing my mind. Mama couldn’t find me here.

What the hell was she doing here?

Mama didn’t smoke. She’d have a drink now and then, but after her checkup, she cut back to just two glasses of wine weekly. The lounge was full of either really young people or really old people.

I turned sharply and ducked into a doorway on my left, slipping inside before I could second-guess it. The space was small—just a private room, dimly lit, empty except for a few leather chairs and a cigar tray on the side table.

My breath hitched as I eased the door almost shut, leaving just a sliver of space to see through.

“Right this way, ma’am,” I heard a voice say.

“You have private rooms?” Mama said.

No, no, no.

I pressed myself against the wall, my breath caught in my throat. If they picked this room—if she walked through that door?—

I gripped my purse so tight my knuckles ached, my mind racing for an escape. But there was nowhere to go. No back exit, no furniture big enough to hide behind. Just me, a few chairs, and the suffocating weight of bad luck pressing down on my chest.

The floor outside creaked. I bit down on my lip so hard I tasted blood.

Please, not this room.

“Yes, ma’am. Our private lounges offer more discretion. Would you like to see one?”

Mama made a sound, a thoughtful hum.

“No need,” Mama said. “I’m already late.” Her heels picked up again, moving away.

My shoulders sagged, my legs so weak I had to brace myself against the doorframe. I stayed still for several more seconds, my body locked in place, waiting until I was sure she was gone. Only when the sound of her voice faded completely did I let out the breath I had been holding.

Then I eased the door open a bit more and looked down the hallway.

The coast was clear.

I slipped back into the hall and made my way toward the front door, my pulse still racing.

That was too close.