Page 11 of When Fashion Turns Deadly

She shook her head. “Even if you could pull it off, the male models aren’t allowed on the upper floors.”

“Why?”

“It’s the wholeappearancesthing. No designer wants any of their models caught in a negative light of any kind, especially during Fashion Week.”

“Your safety needs to be our priority.”

“I’m sure I’ll be fine,” Marit said. “After all, the police let me go, and my building has a security guard in the lobby twenty-four hours a day.”

“I’d still feel better if I were close by.”

“There are a few hotels on the same street as the building where I’m staying. Maybe you can get a room at one of those. There may still be some rooms available since Fashion Week hasn’t started yet.”

“Fine. I’ll get a room at one of the nearby hotels, but I’m getting a room there for you too.”

“Why? I have a place to stay, and like I said, I have a roommate.”

Cole lowered his voice and leaned forward. “Yes, but your roommate isn’t armed. I am.”

Marit didn’t speak for a moment. Finally, she nodded. “Okay. You win.”

Their server arrived with their food. After he set their dinner on the table and left them alone, Cole pulled out his phone. “Want to help me look for a hotel while we eat?”

“Considering you traveled to Paris because of my phone call, it’s the least I can do.”

Chapter 5

A hot meal and Cole’scomforting presence had done wonders to restore Marit’s equilibrium. Her interaction with the police was over—hopefully for good—and she was ready to put the whole interrogation incident behind her.

Cole held open the restaurant door, the light from within spilling onto the pavement outside. “Are you okay walking from here to the hotel?” he asked.

“Yes,” Marit answered. “Like you said, it’s not far. But do you mind if I call Lars as we walk?”

“Go ahead.” Cole guided her around a couple strolling slowly arm in arm.

Marit pulled out her phone. Three missed calls. Two from Lars and one from Isabelle. She glanced at Cole. “Does Isabelle know you’re in Paris?”

“Yeah. I called her from the train.”

“You might want to give her an update. It looks like she tried to get ahold of me.”

He nodded. “I’ll call her as soon as you’re safely in your room.”

“You don’t have to wait on my account,” Marit said.

“It’s okay. I’d rather wait until I have the privacy of my hotel room.”

Marit pulled up Lars’s number.

He answered on the first ring. “Thank goodness! I’ve been really worried about you. Are you okay?”

“Yes,” she said, touched by the obvious concern in his voice. “I’m fine.”

“Isabelle called and told me you were taken in by the police for questioning. What happened?”

Marit glanced behind her. Other than Cole, no one was close enough to overhear her. “I don’t know much. It has something to do with a theft at one of the fashion houses I visited yesterday. They made me wait in a room by myself for a long time and then asked me a lot of questions before letting me go.”

“I’m so sorry, Marit. I hate that you had to go through that on your own. You should have called me.” He paused. “I heard you called Cole instead.”

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