My brain screams no.
My traitorous body?
It is already moving toward my vanity, reaching for mascara.
***
The hotel lobby looks like money had a baby with champagne and then hired a lighting designer. Warm gold uplighting, marble floors that probably cost more than my student loans, and security checking names at the door like this is a royal gala and not a hockey party.
Shari links her arm through mine, practically vibrating. "Okay, I changed my mind. If I go missing, do not look for me. I live here now."
"You can’t live in a five-star hotel lobby," I whisper.
"Watch me. I’ll blend."
Before I can respond, the doors to the private ballroom open and noise spills out… music, laughter, clinking glasses, the kind of energy that screams expensive chaos.
Shari practically floats in.
I follow.
And then, I see him.
Bryce stands near the bar in a black suit and open collar shirt, no tie, sleeves rolled casually like sin disguised as sophistication. He’s listening to Dex, but the moment I step into the room, everything in him shifts.
Stillness.
Attention.
Like instinct.
His eyes drag slowly over me from the bottom up… heels, legs, dress, hair. Heat floods my skin in a way no sensible human resources speech could ever extinguish.
Shari mutters, "Ho-ly crap. He looks at you like dessert."
My pulse slams.
Bryce doesn’t move at first… then he starts walking toward me.
Slow.
Confident.
Casual in the way predators are casual.
Dex turns and spots us. "ANNABELLE. And who do we have here?"
"Hi Dex. Looking sharp. This is my friend Shari. Shari, this is Dex."
"Where have you been hiding her, Annabelle?"
Shari blushes.
"Keep it in your pants, Dex. She's a classy girl."
"Safely secured," he says as pats his crotch and winks at us.
Colby raises his champagne as Bryce approaches. "Here comes trouble.”
