Page 54 of Burn

“I’m sorry for the confusion here but did you make a reservation?”

“No, I didn’t. I shouldn’t need to. I only want a room for an hour.” She winks at the guy next to her wearing more jewelry in his face than her. “Maybe two.”

I want to laugh. I really do, but that’s not going to make it any better.

“Ms. Rae, is it?”

“It’s Gemma actually. Gemma Rae.”

Wow. Say that name with a straight face. Did her parents hate her or is she a stripper?

She looks vaguely familiar but I chalk it up to working in the hotel, and she’s probably tried to rent a room by the hour before.

“Well Gemma, it’s New Year’s Eve. Our hotel is completely booked this evening, and unfortunately, we don’t rent rooms by the hour here.”

She flips her hair from her face. “I want to talk to the manager.”

“I am the manager.”

Her jewelry wearing date eyes me when our eyes meet, and then lower to my chest. Shit. It’s then I realize my dress might be considered a tad inappropriate for working the front desk.

Gemma frowns at me, giving me a look of disgust. “You’rethe manager?”

“Yes, I am.” There’s some satisfaction in my tone, and if you ask me, I have the right to feel this way. Heather wouldn’t think so, but we won’t ask her thoughts on it tonight. She’s about to hate me even more. Just wait.

She laughs. “You’re too young to be a manager, and you’re dressed like you should work in my field.”

Okay, so she solved that problem. She’s a hooker.

“I assure you. I am the manager.”

As I slide my business card across the counter, her guy friend winks at me, licking his pierced lip.

When Caleb did it the other night, it was sexy. This guy actually makes me gag a little. Probably because if you take out all the studs and diamonds in his face, he’d look like a colander.

“I have one room that’s out of order because the television isn’t working and if you’d like that room for the evening,”—I can hear Heather’s breathing increase beside me. I don’t have to look at her to know I’ve made her mad by overriding her authority—“it’s on the second floor with no view except looking at a tower crane. I can give it to you at a discounted rate but only if you rent it for the evening, not just for a couple hours.”

Gemma chews on her lip and then looks at the man slash boy next to her. Now that I’m looking at him, I’m almost afraid to know his age.

There’s a moment when I think to myself, shit, if he’s not eighteen, this could be illegal and then there’s another when I’m hoping if I piss Heather off enough for renting a room to this piss head on the other side of the counter, she might stab the hooker with a pen, set her on fire and I can finally call 911.

The night might be looking up after all.

After handing Gemma and holy boy their room cards, I pull Heather aside. “I’m sorry I gave them a room, but it’s better to have them happy than to risk them causing a scene if we can make the accommodations for them.”

Heather sneers at me, clicking pen obsessively her hand. “No, it’s okay. I know why you got this job, Mila. It’s because you’re willing to do anything to accommodate guests and VIPs.”

Is that sarcasm I sense? If I stab her with the pen, 911 will still get called, so there’s that. But then again I’d probably be arrested and handcuffed before I had the chance to see Caleb. I’d be okay with the handcuffed part but not being arrested. And then there’s the fact that he’s a firefighter, not a paramedic. Shit.

My phone’s ringing again. This time it’s Willa, Shade’s assistant, and I know I need to take the call considering no one knows where Shade went early tonight. “I understand you’re upset with me, Heather, but I promise you, I’m doing my job, and I’m sorry you don’t agree with the way I’m doing it.”

Reaching inside my bra, I pull out my phone and slide my finger across it. “Hey, Willa.”

Please for the love God tell me Shade’s passed out in the hotel and you can’t get a pulse.Actually, I hope she doesn’t, that would suck but, shit, I’m getting desperate.

I wait, and her tone’s casual, which tells me she knows where he is. “Hey Mila, Shade wants two dozen cupcakes from Cupcake Royale . . . right now.”

“Now?” I gasp, looking at the clock. It’s not only a holiday but nearing midnight.

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