Page 35 of The Wicked Love

I step out of the car, and Sophie backs up to give me some much-needed room.

Grabbing my phone, I call Jennifer, my hairdresser and makeup artist on speed dial. The second it stops ringing and before she can speak, I say, “Hey, I’ve got a job for you tonight if you can possibly be here. I’ll pay double.”

I hear her take a breath. “Time?”

Her daughter cries in the background, and I say, “In an hour. Just three of us.”

I can practically hear the smile form on her lips when she asks, “Exactly how much are you offering?”

Laughing, I offer more than I usually would. “How’s five grand?”

Silence.

More silence.

“Jenn? You can bring Ally if you can’t get a sitter.”

She chuckles. “Yes. I-I will be there in an hour. Do I need anything special?”

“Nope, just the usual tools. See you then. Come up to my room.” I end the call without waiting for a response.

Sophie’s smile is practically half the size of her face. “You said three. Aww, you’re starting to like meeeee.” Her voice is full of kindness and appreciation.

I walk past her to head inside, hiding the smile trying to break the hard set of my lips. “Nope, definitely not.”

“Mmhmm.” She laughs as she pulls her phone out and calls Rose. “Yeah, come over. Becca hired hair and makeup for tonight. Suite 264.” She pauses. “Yeah, I love you too. See you soon.”

Keanu gets the elevator and ushers us and Max inside. Sophie disappears into her phone.

I feel Keanu come near me.

“How close do you want us tonight?”

He is one hundred percent the reason I am relatively sane. Because let’s be honest; sanity is all about perspective. To some, I seem put together, and to others, I am one broken thread from burning the world down. I walk a fine line between them.

“A table over,” I respond to him.

The elevator doors open.

“You got it.”

I lead the way to my suite with Sophie, Keanu, and Max closely behind. Once we step inside, I throw my bag and phone on the counter and spend the next three minutes selecting a gown from my wardrobe. I grab the first one I find with a tag still intact. One that I know for sure hasn’t already been plastered on the internet from one of the occasional evenings I go out.

Then, I find myself in the bathroom, sliding down against the door and staring at the same piece of marble tile until Sophie shouts, telling me to get out of the bathroom.

I wonder how long I’ve been sitting here.

Five minutes?

Ten minutes?

When I walk out, I notice Sophie’s and Rose’s hair are already done, and Jenn’s opening her makeup bag.

Holy fuck.

My eyes fly to the clock hanging above one of the sofas.

It’s been forty-five minutes.