Page 33 of Dark Wishes

I eyeball Jamison’s hand; he releases me. “The only thing you’ll hear is a gunshot, and me sayingthat’s for my best friend.”

Opening the car door, I step out onto the hot pavement. My mauve heels shimmer in the midday sun. Everything I’m wearing looks expensive, because it is. The shoes, dress, the silver purse—Jamison bought all of it at a boutique shop in Hollywood after we visited Rory. I gave him my sizes, he shopped efficiently.

I’d been tempted to go into the store with him, but the possibility he’d ask me to try on the clothing in front of him... it was too much.We need more time apart, not together.Another memory about our night in his bed flashes behind my eyes.

No, not now. Time to get into character.Filling my chest with air, I strut along the sidewalk towards the studio. I know I’m doing a good job at playing up the Wannabe-Celeb by the number of gross wolf-whistles I get from passing cars.

It’s not the kind of attention I enjoy, but I’ll suffer it for my purpose.

I wonder if Jamison finds this sexy?

The intrusive thought causes my heel to catch on the cement, throwing me off a beat.Don’t start caring what he thinks,I scold myself. I recover what dignity I can and continue my walk. It takes all my control not to look back to see if I can spot Jamison peering at me through the window of his car.

I’m hyper aware of the gun on the inside of my thigh; each step causes the muzzle to grind along my skin. It’s as distracting as Jamison was when he fixed it into place.

Spark’s Entertainment has large windows framing the front door. The glass is tinted dark enough that I can’t see beyond. There could be ten security guards, or there could be none. Thanks to Rory, I know the answer is three.

One of them opens the door as I climb the six slate-gray stairs. He’s wearing a long-sleeve white shirt and simple black pants. His jacket is too heavy for the weather, but when I get closer, the brisk whiff of AC blasts me in the face. “Hi there,” I chirp pleasantly, bracing myself for a pat down and an interrogation.

He nods and waves me through. I hesitate, thrown off by this turn of events. Rory had insisted the security was intense here. I’d had a whole story planned to get inside, as well as a maneuver to keep anyone from finding my weapon. But this guy doesn’t ask who I am or why I’m here.

He probably knows why,I think. One look at my outfit is as good as a declaration.Bet he sees girls like me come throughhere like ants returning to their nest. And girls like us? We’re not threats, we’re the reward.

Inside, the main waiting area is lit up by multiple fish-bowl sized lights hanging from the ceiling. There’s a curved desk, much larger than the one Iris uses at the parlor. But the woman sitting there with black hair looks so muchlikeher that I falter.

Her smile is big and dazzling and bored, just like the women on their website. “Welcome to Spark’s Entertainment. Are you here for an interview?”

“That’s right!” I giggle. “Malory Temple, I’m meeting Mr. Caruso at 6.”

She scans her laptop, the screen bouncing off her bright blue eyes. “Huh, that’s late for our normal interviews.”

I hold my smile steady. “Is it?” Hacking into a calendar to insert an interview that didn’t exist before is beyond me, but for Rory? It’s a walk in the park.If he took walks, that is. I don’t think he likes the sun.

“Let’s see... ah! There you are. Have a seat and I’ll let him know you’re here.”

I wait a beat, expecting her to ask for some proof I am who I say I am. She smiles patiently—I spin around before the moment gets weird.No one in here cares.

A horrible thing occurs to me as I sit on the stiff, square couch.If they don’t check ID, how do they make sure the girls who come here are at least 18?I bristle at the thought.

I start to cross my legs, then stop when I nudge the gun. As naturally as I can I put my hands on my knees and look around the room. I can’t use the burner phone—Jamison is using it to listen—which means I’m left to fidget with my thoughts.

Sanford told me that Caruso hired him to get Valoria’s videos. How many other women... or girls... has this happened to? Spark’s Entertainment looks legit on the outside, no one could guess how cruel they are.

"Malory?” a husky voice asks.

From his brutal haircut, to his forehead, his short nose, his thick legs... he’s one massive block. His hand, which he extends to me as he gets close, looks like you could use it as a meat mallet. “Mr. Caruso?” I ask sheepishly, playing up my ignorance.

His grin widens as he grazes me with his eyes. It’s like being rubbed with grease. “Uh oh, I knew you'd be pretty, but I didn’t think you’d bethispretty. I’ll try to behave myself.”

The urge to barf rises. “Thanks,” I giggle, trying to look shy instead of disgusted. Rising, I adjust my dress, offering him my hand.

He laces his fingers around mine to pull me close. “Let’s go up to my office,” he says in my ear, his breath the scalding scent of mouth wash. “We can discuss your future stardom.”

Is that what you told Valoria? Or did you not even speak to her, was it all arranged through Sanford?The rage bubbles up in me. It would be so fucking satisfying to shoot himright here, right now.Would I be caught and go to prison? Definitely.

But it would be worth it to see the grin wiped off his nasty face.

“That sounds great,” I say sweetly. He releases my hand, but my relief is brief, because he swoops it around my waist. “Um—”

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