Chapter One
Chloe Bell knocked on the door of the hotel suite and shifted nervously, ready to apologize profusely and hurry back down the hall to the elevator when whoever opened the door asked her who the hell she was and what the hell she was doing there.
Because The Mark was the fanciest hotel in Braxton, Ohio, and it was New Year’s Eve, and even though Bailey’s text had directed her to come to the Premier Suite on the top floor, Chloe felt certain it was a mistake.Autocorrect, or maybe a drunk text, because Bailey was no more able to afford a place like this than Chloe.
And Chloe could barely afford to put gas in her car.
She tugged self-consciously at her jacket, making sure it covered the stain on her uniform shirt where she’d spilled the remnants of someone’s nachos earlier.The plate had been nearly empty and her shift nearly over, so she hadn’t bothered to change her shirt, but now she was wishing she had.The smear of bright orange stood out like a beacon, the cherry on theyou don’t belong heresundae.
Her black slacks were relatively clean, and though her shoes were black, they had the thick soles and utilitarian look that screamed ‘service worker’.But they kept her feet from hurting too badly after a full shift behind the bar, and that mattered more than their appearance.
Or did, until she found herself standing in this swanky hallway, about to get thrown out for impersonating someone with money.
The thought made her snort.Nobody could mistake her for someone with money, and she could only be grateful that the front-desk staff had been too busy to question her on her skulk through the lobby.She’d thought the penthouse level would have required a special key card or code or something, but the elevator had carried her up smoothly and without incident, and now she was looking at a set of carved wooden double doors that wouldn’t have been out of place at the Vatican.
And they were opening.
She braced herself, poised to run, sure she was about to be facing some society matron who would look down her patrician, surgically sculpted nose at her and immediately call for security.Instead she let out anoofas a short, stacked white woman with bright red lips and a waterfall of ebony hair launched herself through the open doors and wrapped Chloe in an enthusiastic hug.
“I thought you’d never get here.”Bailey planted a smacking kiss on Chloe’s cheek.“What took you so long?”
“I had to work,” Chloe managed, and fought her way clear of the mass of Bailey’s hair.When she could see again, she blinked in surprise.“You got bangs.”
“New year, new hair.”Bailey gave the heavy fringe a light finger fluff, then ran her hands down her sleek fall of hair.“What do you think of the blue?”
Chloe eyed the streaks playing peek-a-boo with the thick, shoulder-length black.“Kind of subtle for you, isn’t it?”
“Well, I’m turning thirty this year.I thought I’d try maturity on for size.”
“Uh-huh.Did you pick the same color as your contact lenses on purpose, or is that just a happy coincidence?”
Bailey’s eyes—naturally a pale hazel, currently a blazing cobalt thanks to the colored lenses—danced as she laughed.“Is that a serious question?”
“Sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking.”Bailey was nothing if not purposeful.“Well, it might be subtle, but it works.”
“I know.Come on.”Bailey hooked her arm through Chloe’s and tugged.“Gwen’s already here.Where’s your bag?”
“I left it in the car.I’ll get it later.”Chloe allowed herself to be towed along, her eyes widening when they stepped into the suite.The floors were marble, the lights were crystal.The walls were a cool, minty green, a color picked up in the plush rug laid over the floor.A pair of sofas in white leather flanked a fireplace she could’ve stood in, the leaping blue flames surrounded by more marble.The art on the walls was vibrant and colorful, and the floor-to-ceiling windows looked out over the city where snow was just beginning to fall.
“Uh, Bails?”
“What?”
“What the hell are we doing here?”
“It’s the night before your birthday,” Bailey reminded her and tugged her further into the room.The doors swung shut behind them with a subtle—and somehow expensive-sounding—click.“We always get a hotel room the night before your birthday.And my birthday, and Gwen’s birthday—”
“We always get a room at the Extended Stay Inn, or the Comfort Court, or if we’re feeling very fancy and tips have been good, maybe a B&B,” Chloe interrupted, turning in a circle to take it all in.There was a dining table against the back wall that could seat twenty, and a bar full of crystal that sparkled so bright it nearly blinded.“Which is in my budget.This is not, especially not on New Year’s Eve.”
“It’s my treat.”
“It’s not in your budget either,” Chloe pointed out.“Unless you’ve started doing high-end sex work and forgot to tell me.”
“No, but don’t think I haven’t thought about it,” Bailey said, then shrugged.“It was a gift from a client.”
“Did you help them cover up a murder?”Chloe wondered.
“No, but I helped her get a divorce.”
