“Did you see how good-looking he was?”
Kimani did a double-take, not understanding the response.
“He had the sweetest-looking baby-blue eyes.” Claire sighed. “And we know he’s not racist ’cause, you know, he bid on you. That’s a good sign, right?”
Kimani tapped on the window to the driver again. She wanted to get to a phone to call Sam with an update. “Can we make a bathroom stop?”
“Lo siento, no hablo ingles,” the driver replied.
Wishing she had paid more attention in her Spanish class, Kimani combed her memory and finally remembered. “Baño, por favor.”
“Una hora.”
“What did he say?” Claire asked.
“I think he said in an hour,” Kimani replied. Where the hell were they being taken?
“I hope we get something to eat. Honestly, I thought the limo would be stocked with champagne or something. Instead, there’s only bottled water.”
At nearly four in the morning, they pulled into a refueling station somewhere north of Ukiah in Mendocino County. Kimani had never been this far north of San Francisco before. So much for dining at The French Laundry.
After ducking out of view from the driver, Kimani found an old-fashioned pay phone. But it didn’t work. The place was deserted with no trucks in sight, so she couldn’t borrow a cell from anyone.
“Chica! Vamanos!” the driver called to her.
For a second, Kimani contemplated taking her chances with the empty truck stop, but her story wasn’t complete.
“Coming,” she called.
Claire napped while they continued their drive, but Kimani was too distracted to sleep. She told herself she was probably worrying about nothing. Not all the Scarlet Auction bidders were like Marissa’s. Still, she wanted to remain vigilant and at least keep track of where they were. She kicked herself for not keeping her cell with her, but who would have thought it would get taken? Notice was probably on page nineteen of the contract in four-point font.
Not long after leaving the truck stop, they pulled off US 101 and onto State Route 36. They passed towns Kimani had never heard of. All she knew was that they were likely in Trinity County, one of the least-populated counties in the state.
We’re in the boonies.
Kimani hadn’t noticed a single traffic light. It was doubtful the county even had a Starbucks. Getting off State Route 36, the limo drove along a heavily forested, winding road.
What if our guy is worse than Marissa’s?
She tried to shake the morbid thoughts from her head, but every nerve in her body was screaming that she had gotten herself into a heap of trouble.
CHAPTER FOUR
“Holy shit,” Claire gasped when the limo pulled up in front of a two-story cabin sitting at the edge of a small, pristine lake. “Now this is what I’m talking about.”
Instead of awe, Kimani felt only dread. They were miles away from civilization, without their cellphones, with a driver who didn’t speak English.
“I don’t understand why, if we were coming this far, we didn’t get to pack bags?” Kimani wondered, clutching her handbag close to her. She wanted to be able to switch on one of her recording pens when needed.
“Probably because we have a closetful of fancy clothes just waiting for us!” Claire replied, clasping her hands together.
Kimani raised her eyebrows. “I’ve got a bad feeling about this. Seriously, we have no idea where we are, who we’re dealing with...”
That truck stop back in Mendocino County was looking like it would have been the wiser choice.
“You don’t get it,” Claire responded. “We’re his for a week. We’re here because he wants us all to himself with no distractions. We can’t get away, and we’re totally at his mercy. It’s sooooo sexy!”
“Seriously, you don’t find this creepy at all?”
Claire shook her head and followed the limo driver up the stone walkway to the cabin. Kimani took a bracing breath and trailed behind. Maybe she was overreacting. Maybe the guy was just planning a romantic weekend at his cabin. His remote cabin.
“Oh! This is probably where we meet the kind old housekeeper or personal assistant that helps him out with everything and helps us get dressed,” Claire said to Kimani. “She likes that he has a woman in his life.”
Kimani stared in disbelief. Did Claire really think reality was going to unfold like some erotic romance story? Still too unsettled to appreciate the beautiful natural surroundings, Kimani focused on the cabin. At any other time, it would have taken her breath away with its seven gables, multiple balconies, and windows that took up ninety percent of the cabin’s facade. The place probably raked in a huge heating bill in winter. Kimani felt some relief to see that with all the balconies, there were many points of egress.
A stern-looking man opened the double doors of oak and decorative glass with satin-nickel caming. With his height and bulk, the guy did not look like someone to mess with.
“Las chicas,” the driver said.
Mr. Stern-Face nodded. “This way, ladies.”
Kimani decided she preferred the company of the non-English speaking driver, but the man was headed back to the limo. She and Claire followed Stern-Face into the cabin and downstairs to what was a third but lower level of the cabin. He opened the door to a large single room.
“This is where you’ll sleep.”
Claire walked in, ready to be impressed. Instead, her face fell. There was no beautiful four-post bed draped in romantic linen, no plush carpeting or shiny hardwood floors, no door to an amazing bathroom with granite counters and a Jacuzzi bathtub. There were no windows, and the only light came from a lightbulb at the top of the ceiling. The only furnishing comprised two queen-size mattresses resting directly on the floor without box springs.
“You’re to stay in the room until he gets here,” Stern-Face said before shutting the door behind him.
“Wait!” Kimani cried. She ran to the door but found it locked. Shit. She went to the only other door, but it only led to a toilet.
“This is not what I expected at all,” Claire said. “It must be like some kind of joke. Maybe we’ll be shown our real rooms after we go shopping.”
“I don’t think there’s much in the way of luxury shopping in this county,” Kimani murmured as she went to try the door again. No luck. “I can’t believe we’re locked in here!”
“He doesn’t want us escaping,” Claire giggled.
Kimani stayed the desire to smack some sense into the girl.
“I wish we had something to eat, though. I’m starving.”
Kimani dug into the purse she still held and fished out a packet of trail mix, which she offered to Claire. She didn’t have much of an appetite.
Claire hopped off the bed. “Oh, thanks! I’ll just have a little since we’re probably going to have a sinfully decadent breakfast.”
“You sure about that?”
“Billionaires like to wine and dine in style. I mean, what’s the point of being a billionaire if you don’t indulge in everything that you can?”
“I don’t know about that. Gold toilets would be excessive to me.”
Claire shrugged. “If you’ve got money to burn, why not?”