Coming Soon. Jo Leigh
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Lorraine nodded, then wiped a stray blond hair from her cheek. She, like many of the women here at Hush, tried to emulate Piper Devon’s look. They all wanted to appear as sophisticated and as together as Piper. Only a few came close.
“Of course, Trace is going to be there, too. She’ll just introduce him as her husband. Geiger’s wife won’t even know he’s the hotel’s attorney until it’s too late.”
“Odd though, don’t you think, that Geiger isn’t even buried yet and his wife is all about the lawsuit?”
“Look what her husband did for a living.”
Mia nodded. “That’s true. Greedy doesn’t even begin to cover it.”
Lorraine looked into the bathroom, making sure they weren’t being overheard. “Did you know that Danny Austen had something going on with Geiger?”
“No he did not.”
“I swear.”
“Something sexual?” Mia asked, lowering her voice to a whisper.
“So I’ve been told.”
“I thought he was trying to get tight with that actress. You know, the redhead?”
“Yeah, Nan. I met her. She seemed sweet and all, but she wasn’t shy about Danny Austen. Paul saw her in Austen’s trailer wearing his bathrobe.”
“So if Danny is with Nan—”
Lorraine shrugged. “I don’t know. I suppose if you’re famous enough, you can have everybody. Maybe for them it doesn’t matter what the sex is as long as it’s sex.”
“Still, Danny Austen with Geiger? I find that difficult to believe. Geiger was a parasite. Danny could get anyone he wanted.”
“You’re probably right. Although…”
“What?”
“Jeff Crown, the guy from accounting? He said there were some pretty suspicious charges coming from Danny’s room.”
“How would he know?”
“Yeah. You’re right. I think everybody wants to be on the inside, you know? He’s probably full of crap.”
“Yeah. Probably.”
“I gotta go,” Lorraine said. She closed her locker. “See ya.”
Mia hugged her backpack as she stared at her locker. That business about Danny Austen made no sense. But then, she didn’t really know a lot of famous people. She wouldn’t have believed Geiger having drinks with the director, and that turned out to be true.
Or was it?
No, it was true. Andy, Theresa’s room-service source, wouldn’t lie about that. Mia had no idea if Jeff Crown would. She’d best take it all with a big grain of salt. She’d keep her ear to the ground. That’s all. She’d just listen.
A few minutes later, she was going out the back door to make a beeline to the subway, hoping to get past the paps without tripping or being trampled. Only she didn’t have to worry because there was Bax, sitting on the pony wall in the garage, looking rumpled and tired and wonderful. Not a paparazzi in sight.
“What are you doing here?”
“Driving you home.”
“You don’t know where I live.”
“Doesn’t matter.”
“I’m in Connecticut.”
He looked a little startled, but then his unflappable face came back. “Then we’d better get going.”
“I’m kidding,” she said. “You don’t have to take me home. The subway’s right over there,” she said, pointing to her right.
“My car’s right over there,” he said, pointing to his left.
“I live in Brooklyn Heights.”
“Great,” he said, standing with a distinctive knee pop. “It’s right on my way.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Why do I doubt that?”
“Because you’re a suspicious woman. Come on. Let’s do this.”
She followed him to a somewhat new Ford Taurus that she would have immediately pegged as an unmarked police car. He held the door for her, and she wasn’t surprised to find the inside was impeccably clean.
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