Page 84 of The Kingpin's Call Girl

If only I could time travel two months back when my top three concerns were how best to bump an A-minus up to an A, if Chelsea boots were still in, and whether I had enough money to get a day-old turkey sub sandwich at the cafeteria.

Now, it’s the bloody, horrific death at the hands of a man I may or may not be falling for.

Think,I tell myself.

First things first: my wrist. I buy an ice pack and a wrap at a Duane Reade. I’ll tell people I tripped and fell and sprained it. I add a Butterfinger for self-care.

I head back up the dirty street, still freaking out that I told what I heard. Hating myself for it.

What if I were to warn Luka anonymously? Maybe I could send a message to his restaurant. Or like a courier with a message specifically for Luka. But how do I know Bender doesn’t have people at the restaurant? If Bender were to intercept it, he’d know it was from me, and I shudder to think what would happen. Bender’s dangerous; that much is clear.

I could send a message to the hotel, but Bender likely knows about that, too. He’s obviously been following Luka. He could have somebody on the inside of Luka’s organization. Maybe even Orton. Or Storm.

I have no reason to trust anybody at this point.

Crossing paths with Bender and his partner that fateful night when I was searching for my sister out on the streets—not a thankable event, I think miserably.

I pass a bakery window full of cakes and pastries and cookies, thinking about getting another self-care treat. Maybe a whole self-care cake. But getting hopped up on sugar definitely isn’t what I need.

But then I slow my steps and back up to the bakery window. There, alongside double-chocolate chocolate chip cookies, is an engagement display. It’s like a bouquet of engagement cookies in the shape of rings. Ginormous engagement cookies in the shape of rings and displayed on sticks as part of a massive cookie bouquet.

I set back off, mind spinning. Luka’s crew completely freaked out when they saw those circle cookies. Wouldn’t a meeting between potentially warring gangs be a somber or dangerous occasion? I could send them that bouquet.

But... would it be too obvious? They could go to the bakery and figure out who sent it. They’d want to know.

Then again, they don’t have to actually be the recipients of the ring cookie bouquet... they just have to catch sight of it.

I’m thinking about all those gifts for the wedding party in the velvet-roped area of the lobby. Orton said Saudis love that hotel for weddings. If a giant bouquet of circle cookies could be placed behind the reception desk, that might do the trick.

It would for sure do it.

I have to be so careful, I decide. I pull a Bender and walk through one of the residence halls’ courtyards and back through a Duane Reade. I see why Bender likes making me walk through this store; there are a lot of exits.

I buy a bright blue cap, stuff my hair into it, and go out a different exit, doubling back to the bakery, where I order three of the most massive and ostentatious ring bouquets they have for the meeting in two days. “I want these bouquets to be resplendent. Iwant them to just be so gorgeous, completely the ring theme. Just sparkling rings, really big and bright and bold.”

She shows me pictures, and I give a few ideas, stressing that the rings have to be super prominent, and then I fill out the paperwork, directing that they be sent to the Milaga Hotel. I pay in cash. “The hotel desk will know what to do with it.”

“I need a name or a room number. It can’t just be to the hotel.”

I pretend to look at my phone, but really, I’m trying to remember how many floors there are. There are eight floors. I look up and smile. “Room 914.”

I give her my information—most of it fake.

“And it’s to be delivered at exactly 1:30 p.m.” The meeting is at two, but I’m thinking mafia men come to things early.

“A delivery time guarantee is extra.”

I’m more than good with that. I add two chocolate chip cookies to the order and head back home, giving myself a pep talk about how my plan will totally work.

Somebody in Luka’s crew has to spot the cookies—those bouquets are big and obvious, and the ring cookies are literally on sticks. I went for the most over-the-top ones—how could they not see them?

I tell myself that it’s a good plan. Mafia men will be posted and vigilant all over the hotel. Luka told me how superstitious they all are. I’m counting on it now. I just need one of the men to see the circular cookies and freak out like West did back in the restaurant. The other guys will surely back him up, just like they did at the restaurant. They all supported that one guy’s read of the situation. Surely that’s enough to ruin the meeting.

Best of all, Bender will think it was because the cops were recognized. And how would that be my fault?

There’s still the problem of showing up at the restaurant. Bender said he’s only there a couple times a week... which meansI’d have to be staking out the place. How would that not be obvious?

Lovelorn stalker stuff, that’s not me, and Luka would know. Luka gets me in a way other people don’t.

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