Page 46 of Burn

Nixon nods slowly. “I know, but I wanted to.”

I’m smart enough to understand that translates into, I have money, and I want you to know it.

“Eh, thanks.”

He nods over his shoulder, his jet-black hair still perfectly intact and slicked back. “I’ve got a client.”

Just as I’m wondering how I might take this off and figure out a way to give it back to him without seeming like a total bitch, my dad approaches me with Carl Hamilton. Carl is part of Shade Sawyer’s security team and usually arrives the day before to check his room out and make sure we have everything in order for his arrival.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Hamilton.” I take his hand. “It’s good to see you again.” Just the motion of extending my damn arm hurts, that all-body ache I have apparent from being on the go all morning.

He greets me with a bright smile and a warm hug. I’ve become one of his favorites here. Probably because out of all the hotels Shade likes to stay at around town, we’re the ones who treat him like he’s royalty. If he can afford the 10k a night it costs to stay in the suite on the top floor, more power to him.

And I’ve watched Shade race. Another perk of him staying here. Free tickets to events he’s at. He’s incredibly talented on a motorcycle, and by incredible, I really mean a gifted motherfucker. Anyone who can fly over a hundred feet off the ground and let go of their bike and then find it midair after doing a back flip is gifted.

Carl gives me the details on Shade arriving and the entrance he wants to use.

When Carl excuses himself, my father stares at Nixon standing in the valet waiting for his car, then the sparkles on my wrist. “I have to say Shaw’s kid is weird.”

“He’s hardly a kid, Dad. He’s thirtysomething.” I sigh. “But you’re right. He’s weird. He bought me a bracelet for Christmas.” I hold it up, the diamonds shining under the lights of the lobby. “Who does that?”

“It’s all about showing off with him and his father.” I know this for a fact.

Nixon drives around in a fucking Maserati, if that tells you anything and his dad? A Bentley. They have more money than they can spend.

Dad rolls his eyes and then nods to my phone that’s ringing, again. “Is everything set for Mr. Shade’s arrival? Carl’s worried about security this time. Apparently, there were a few fans who managed to make it to his room the last time he was here.”

This time I’m the one rolling my eyes. “That’s because he took those girls to his room. Carl just doesn’t understand his door is a revolving door for anything half-dressed and a vagina.”

“Well that might be.” Dad laughs, adjusting his tie. “But we need to make sure everything is in order. I don’t want any problems with Mr. Sawyer or his brothers.”

Shade has two brothers. Tiller and Roan. Both equally as charming and as hot as Shade. I’d like to say Tiller is manageable, but I’d be lying. All three of the Sawyer boys are holy terrors, and I’m not sure they’ve ever been parented.

My dad only knows the half of everything that goes on with the Sawyer boys, but he knows enough to understand they not only pay out the ass to stay here, but they also cause problems. Problems a hotel owner doesn’t want.

It’s my job to make sure those problems don’t affect the other guests at the hotel or call in the cops.

IT’S AROUND THREE when I’m able to get my massage, the only free hour of the day I have and Izzy asks me why I’m so sore.

Taking off my bra, I toss it aside and lie down on the table on my stomach. “I’ve been sleeping on Scarlet’s couch. It’s not very comfortable.” Not technically a lie.

Izzy moves around the room reaching for the massage oil I like the best. Also the only one I’m not allergic to. Eucalyptus and mint.

She raises a disapproving eyebrow. “Is that so?”

I lift my head to meet her stare. Sometimes it gets old having her judge me like this, but then again, it’s my fault I tell her everything. “Don’t look at me like that. I told you the truth.”

Izzy frowns. She’s caught on. Shit. “Really, Mila? You told me the truth?”

“God, you’re a jerk. Yes, I told you the truth. Maybe not 100 percent of the truth, but I told you a version of the truth. The version I wanted you to hear and if you’re not nice to me, I’m going to leave.”

I’m lying out of my ass. I won’t leave, but I like to pretend I will.

Izzy cracks about the time Scarlet barges in.

“Do you want me to help you or not?” Izzy asks, taking a towel from the warmer and handing it to me. I like to rest my face on a hot towel while she’s massaging my back.

“Yes, I do. I’m so sore I can’t even walk right. It’s like he tore a muscle in my vagina.” And then I eye her carefully before putting my head down. “I bet you know what I’m talking about, don’t you? You probably know what reverse childbirth feels like, don’t you, Izzy Bizzy?”

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