But that was back when I thought I had money. Lots of money. Retirement kind of money. Finding out it was all gone had ripped the rug out from under me.
It had been terrifying.
Suddenly, there was no money for luxuries. Hell, there were times when there was no money for food.
It had been a whole new way of life. One that was full of fear, of trying to prepare for any eventuality that might occur so I wasn’t without a place to live or food in my stomach.
Every purchase that I didn’t need for survival had to be hemmed and hawed. Then often regretted. I still felt guilty about a new pair of jeans I bought three months back, even though my last ones literally split down the whole butt.
So, yeah, it had been a while since I saw the inside of a luxurious place that I wasn’tworkingat.
The doors slid open.
I walked inside.
And the receptionist offered me a sweet smile.
“Miss Langston?”
“Yes.”
“Mr. Grant is waiting for you,” she said.
Then I was led through the spa, past a heated pool, the sauna, and several closed doors where I imagined they did massages, facials, or whatever other treatments they offered.
In the middle of the hallway, the woman paused to knock before opening the door and ushering me into a lounge.
It was a windowless room with several different seating sections, a coffee bar, and some snacks laid out.
But it was only Milo inside.
“Thanks, Ash,” he told the woman, who took it as her cue to leave, turned, and closed the door.
“Hey,” I said, feeling awkward, shifting my feet.
“Hey. I figured this was a neutral location. If someone is watching you, they’d just assume you were pampering yourself.”
“Yeah, it’s a good idea. Frank would think this is ’typical woman stuff,’” I said. “His beliefs on gender roles work in my favor sometimes.”
“Want to grab a coffee? It’s surprisingly good here,” he said, gesturing toward his own cup.
Just to have something to do (and, hey, free coffee with all the syrups and stuff I’d never pay for any other time), I made a coffee before approaching him.
“Alright, before we get to the dresses, I have a few other things to give you.”
He pulled up a bag and placed it on the table.
Again, he’d clearly thought it through. Because he had bags from the spa. So when I left with them, nothing would look suspicious.
He reached in, pulling out…
“A flashlight?” I asked, finally sitting down.
“The camera in Frank’s office sounds hardwired. So you can’t use a jammer in there. But a really high-powered flashlight aimed right at it would make it impossible for anyone to see.
“I don’t know if it will work, if you can open the door without being seen, but if you can and shine the light right in, you will be good so long as the camera is whited out with it.”
“Okay. And, yeah, I think I can.”
