“You all right, honey? I could get you a room if you needed it for the night.” Even her voice was sultry.
A perfect stranger in the women’s room of a hotel was nicer to her than her fiancé, the man who had sworn he loved her. “Thank you, I really appreciate the offer, but I have a room. I’m going to pack and get out of here fast.” The problem was, she was going to have to face Winston. They shared the room.
“Good for you,” the woman approved.
“Did you hear all those sirens?” Soleil asked, trying to change the subject so she didn’t look so pathetic. “It sounded like half the police force was going somewhere.”
The woman nodded. “Around the corner, a couple of streets over. I heard there was a shooting in a massage parlor. Someone said everyone inside was dead.”
“What is wrong with everyone these days?” Soleil asked.
The woman shrugged. “Most likely someone didn’t pay when they should have.” She picked up a small tote, started out and then stopped, turning back. “You have a cell phone?”
Soleil nodded.
“I’m Lana.”
“Soleil.”
“You here alone?”
“With him.” She held up her bruised arm.
“Where’s your family? Maybe you should give them a call.”
Soleil looked down at the floor. It was absolutely clean just like everything else. She sniffed and wasn’t at all shocked to find that even the bathroom smelled good. That citrus fragrance from the sitting room had drifted right in.
“I don’t have a family,” she admitted in a low voice.
“Friends nearby?” Lana stepped closer to her, concern in her voice. In her eyes.
Soleil struggled not to burst into tears at the obvious sympathy. The few friends she’d had, Winston had managed to alienate. She shook her head.
“Sometimes these things get ugly. You have any trouble at all, you can call me. I have friends. They’ll come get you out of any situation.” Lana snapped her fingers and held out her hand. “Give me your cell.”
Soleil had no idea why in the world she would allow a perfect stranger to take her cell phone, but she did. She pulled it from her pocket, keyed in the code and handed it to Lana.
“I meant what I said. He’s already proven he’s willing to put his hands on you, so when you break it off, make certain you’re not alone with him. Have your cell handy and call the cops. If you can’t, you call me, understand?” Lana turned and pointed to her vest even as she programmed her number into Soleil’s cell. “It’s under Lana. Don’t you forget it.”
There was a very cool tree with ravens in the branches and skulls in the roots on the back of her vest. A rocker above the tree proclaimed her Torpedo Ink. The one below said Sea Haven-Caspar. Soleil had heard of Sea Haven but not Sea Haven-Caspar and had no idea where that was, or what Torpedo Ink was, other than a club, but it was cool as hell and this was Soleil’s first time ever talking to a woman who rode motorcycles.
“We’re in Vegas celebrating our brother’s wedding to his woman, but you call, you understand? He lays his hands on you again or does anything that frightens you, lock yourself in a room and call.” She handed Soleil back her phone. “Someone will come for you, I promise.”
“Thanks.” Soleil wrapped her hands around her phone as if it were a lifeline. Maybe it was. At least, it was the first truly nice thing someone had done for her since Kevin had died.
Lana gave a friendly wave and walked out.
Soleil stared after her for a long time. She wanted to be like that. Smart. Sophisticated. Independent. She wanted to take charge of her life. Make her own decisions. She sighed. Who was she kidding? She was terrified without her lawyer. Still, she was determined to get herself out of the mess she was in. She knew she’d created it through her own apathy.
Washing her hands for the third time, she took a deep breath. She had been paralyzed with grief since her lawyer died. Her parents had been killed in a car accident when she was four and she’d gone to live with her aunt Deborah. She’d passed away when Soleil was eight.
She went to live with her aunt Constance. That lasted until she was ten, mostly because Constance thought she would have access to Soleil’s trust fund, but Kevin kept a tight grip on it. He refused to allow her aunt anything more than it would have cost to have Soleil living with her. Constance had been furious over that and let Soleil know every chance she got how unfair it was and just how much trouble it was to have a brat living with her.
Soleil was put in a series of boarding schools from that time on. She studied abroad. She lived in various hotels because she had nowhere else to go when she wasn’t in school. The only constant in her life was her lawyer, and she’d come to rely on him for just about everything, although, truthfully, she rarely saw him. Mostly they talked on the phone or via email, text or messenger. It didn’t matter that she hadn’t seen him, he was always there.
She could text anytime, day or night, and he answered her. He advised her. He took care of her trust and allowed her to go to art school. She traveled to all the wonderful art galleries all over the world and painted in France, Italy and Greece. When she got into any kind of trouble, he got her out.
She met Winston Trent in London at Sotheby’s. They talked for quite a while. He was friendly and knowledgeable about art. Like Soleil, he lived in San Francisco and was on his way back to the States. They were on the same plane and coincidentally seated next to each other. They laughed over that and spent most of the plane ride home talking. She hadn’t talked so much or laughed more in years. For the first time in her life, she felt as if she had a friend.
They dated, going to dinner, movies, fund-raising events that Winston insisted on. Before she had gone alone and felt out of place. She was just so happy to be with someone. She’d been so lonely. She was so desperate for a relationship that even though he often did and said things that sent up red flags, she ignored them and tried harder to please him. Looking back, she could see how he’d pushed her constantly, even when she’d been uncomfortable with how fast things were moving, but he hadn’t listened. She began talking nightly with Kevin Bennet. Her lawyer wasn’t happy with the fact that Winston wanted to put a ring on her finger so fast.
She had always wanted to be wild and impulsive with her man. She actually dreamt of it often, but Winston didn’t inspire that in her. She had thought, because she’d met him in Europe, that he was adventurous, but he wasn’t. Not in the least. He told her he was a businessman and he wanted her to look a certain way. To dress a certain way. He even gave her a list of people he insisted she “meet” and “cultivate” as friends. When she questioned him, he told her he wanted to make certain she moved in the right circles and she needed to just let him guide her.