There’s a woman standing there, small enough that I almost missed her. She’s tiny, probably a foot shorter than me, with silver hair pulled back so tight it looks painful. Her face is a map of wrinkles, eyes sharp and curious.
“Uh… hi?” I say, suddenly very aware of the box of sex toys in my hands.
The woman’s eyes flick to the box, then back to my face.
“Buenos días, señorita,” she says, her voice soft but firm. “I am Kayla.”
“Cl—Victoria,” I stammer, catching myself at the last second. “I mean, I’m Victoria. I was just, uh…”
Shit. That was close. Real smooth, Clara. Nearly blew your cover in two seconds flat.
Kayla doesn’t wait for my explanation. She walks in, placing a crisp white shirt on the bed. “Para ti.FromSeñorLeonid.”
“Gracias,” I manage.
Fuck, why am I being so polite?
I should knock her out and bolt.But my feet stay planted.
Calm down, Clara.
Maybe I can talk my way out of this.
I drop the box on the floor with a thud, then kick it hard. It skids across the hardwood and disappears under the bed like it’s radioactive waste I can’t get rid of fast enough. Kayla’s eyes follow the box’s journey, then snap back to me.
“Umm…” I start, racking my brain.“¿Trabajas aquí paraLeonid?”
Thank God for all those run-ins with the Mexican mafia. Who knew it’d come in handy for small talk?
Kayla nods slowly. “Sí,many years.”
I take a deep breath. Here goes nothing. “Listen, Kayla. I’m not supposed to be here. I need help. Can you—”
She cuts me off with a sharp look, eyes darting to the camera in the corner. Right. We’re being watched.
I try a different approach. “How about we go for a walk? Get some fresh air?”
Kayla shakes her head. “Nosalir. No leaving.”
“Please?” I’m not above begging at this point.
I step closer, lowering my voice. “I have… someone waiting for me at home.”
For a moment, Kayla’s face softens. She looks at me, really looks at me, and I see a flicker of sympathy. But then it’s gone, replaced by professionalism.
“Lo siento, señorita,” she says quietly. “Cannot help.”
I’m about to give up when Kayla adds, loud enough for the cameras, “SeñorLeonid, he not home now. But return soon.”
Her eyes, though, tell a different story. They flick to the door, then back to me.
“I understand,” I say, matching her volume. “Guess I’ll just wait here then.”
Kayla nods, moving toward the exit. “I go now. Much work.” She pauses at the threshold, speaking to the air. “Door must stay locked. For safety.”
But as she turns, I swear I see her hand hesitate on the lock.
The door closes. I hold my breath, listening. No click.
