He relaxed, seemingly satisfied, and his gaze moved down the front of my body. Revulsion crawled over my skin, and I whirled and ran down the stairs.
“Better get back to work!” I called over my shoulder, desperate to get away from him.
I’d made a point never to be caught alone by him. His eyes creeped me out, and I didn’t need to be a mind reader to figure out what he was thinking.
The rest of my shift passed uneventfully, though it felt like my heartbeat never slowed down. I expected Garreth Locke to barge into every room I was working in and demand to know why I’d invaded his space.
He doesn’t know you’re the one who left the cart.
Fortunately, there was no mention of the cart at all, for which I was grateful. I felt guilty as hell for leaving it, but I was still planning to go back and retrieve it.
Then something miraculous happened.
Meg returned.
“You’re kidding me,” she said as I told her the whole story in the breakroom. I was finally off shift and had been about to head back up to try my luck at getting the cart back.
“I’ll do it,” she said. “You’ve done enough for me. And at least I’m supposed to be up there.”
“Oh, thank you.” The relief nearly made me collapse. I’d been wound tight with worry over heading back up to the penthouse.
Normally, the excitement of doing something against the rules would get me going, the same way climbing the outside of the building had.
Instead, the memory of Garreth Locke had my heart going a mile a minute. He wasn’t even supposed to be up there, according to Kyle at the front desk, and the thought of him still made my heart race.
“I’m getting out of here.” I grabbed the ratty old bag that contained my street clothes and headed toward the staff bathroom.
“Thanks again, Lyra,” Meg said. “I owe you one.”
“Several ones.” I grinned at her as I shut the door behind me and pulled off the hated maid’s uniform. Boris made us wear the worst costumes, and I wanted to light the damned thing on fire, waving it around my head as I charged out of this hellhole while declaring that I quit.
That wasn’t going to happen anytime soon, however. At least I felt like myself as I changed into jeans and an ancient Madonna T-shirt, then tugged on my old boots and swung the battered leather jacket on.
I looped the bag over my shoulder and headed out of the breakroom, toward the back entrance of the hotel. Luck was smiling on me, because I made it out without seeing Boris or any other staff members.
But my good fortune ran out as I tried to start my old motorcycle. The engine sputtered and died at the exact same moment that Ed walked outside. The luggage handler’s eyes lit up when he saw me, and I resisted a grimace.
Ed was a nice guy. It wasn’t his fault he had the hots for me, and I was thoroughly uninterested in any guy.
The memory of a naked Garreth Locke rushed into my mind, and I shoved it away.
“Need help?” Ed asked.
“I’ve got it.”
His next words were quiet enough that I wouldn’t have heard them if my ears weren’t unusually good. “You don’t have to do everything yourself, you know.”
Yes, I did.
I was the only one I could count on. Life had beaten that lesson into me early enough. I didn’t even count on Meg, my only friend, so I certainly wasn’t going to be looking to Ed for help. Especially with my precious bike.
I waited until he turned to look down the alley, then gripped the handlebar and lifted the heavy front of the bike a little bit off the ground. It was normally a job for two people or a hydraulic lift, but I was used to doing it on my own. I didn’t want Ed seeing that I was freakishly strong, however.
Quickly, I checked the wheel for wobbling and found that the damned thing was loose again. I torqued the axel nut with my free hand, then lowered the bike before Ed turned back around.
The fix worked, and satisfaction surged through me.
Ready to get the hell out of there, I swung my leg over the machine and nodded at Ed. “Have a good night, Ed.”
He nodded shortly. Pulling a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket, he turned to look down the alley.
My bike’s engine roared as I pulled away from the hotel.
Thank God this hellish day was over.
The sun set as I drove toward the shit part of town. At one point, it felt like I was being followed—that prickle was unmistakable. Unless I was just being paranoid.
Didn’t matter. I’d learned long ago not to ignore my hard-won instincts. I might be a maid now, but I hadn’t always been one.
Fortunately, I knew the streets of Seattle like the back of my hand, and I lost whoever was following me within ten minutes. By the time I pulled up to my little apartment, I was ready for a dinner of Ramen for one.
Instead, I found a letter.
Immediately, my gaze snagged on the return address. Seattle School of Business.
Holy fates, it was here.
But the letter was so thin. Wasn’t that bad? Didn’t college acceptances usually come in big packets?
My hand shook, and it took me three tries to open the envelope. I fumbled with the paper and finally got it unfolded.
Tears blurred my eyes as I read the first words.
We are pleased to accept you to the Seattle School of Business.
4
Lyra
* * *
Morning came too early, and I was only half awake as I rode my bike back toward work. I’d spent a long, lonely night with an old copy of Pride and Prejudice, trying to focus on the book instead of the memory of Garreth Locke in the shower.
It hadn’t worked. Even worse, he’d followed me into my dreams. The fact that I hadn’t kissed a guy—much less gone any further—in over a year was readily apparent by the direction my dreams had taken.
And of course, my imaginary version of Garreth Locke was a genius in the sack. I shook the thought away and turned my bike onto the road that led to the hotel. With any luck, someone would have already made coffee in the break room. It would taste like old motor oil, but it was better than paying for a cup. Maybe I’d get extra lucky and there would be a birthday today.
Free cake.
I loved cake. Free cake, even more. Particularly since that was the only kind I could afford.
As I turned the bike into the alley where I parked, I spotted the sleeping form of the homeless man who often took up residence near the hotel.
I stopped the bike and pulled a dollar from my pocket, tucking it under the battered old coffee mug by his head. He snored away, and I grinned.
He’d never seen me, and that was how I liked it. Ed said he was a grumpy bastard who chose to be homeless, but that was none of my business.
By the time I parked my bike, it was five minutes before my shift started. I grabbed my bag and slung it over my shoulder, then skulked into the back hall of the hotel, praying I would avoid Boris.
I wasn’t so lucky.
He waited right by the time punch cards.
“You’re late.” He glared at me with beady eyes.
My gaze flicked up to the clock over his head. I wasn’t late, but I said nothing, just nodded.
He smiled, satisfied. Boris liked to pick on people for the hell of it. Since I didn’t care about him, but I did care about keeping this job, I let him do it. Hell, how would I stop him, anyway? Punching him in the nose was what I wanted to do, and that sure as hell wasn’t an option.