to follow her. We left the wardrobe room and headed through the hallway back into the reception area. Annika wasn’t at her desk and Genevieve pushed open the door to her office.
I followed her inside. “Should I sit?”
Genevieve shook her head in negation as she went to her massive ornate desk and picked up a brown leather binder that resembled a photo album.
“These are the photos and personas of the girls who work The Fifteenth Floor. You’ll need to memorize their names.”
I took the binder. “You want me to learn all these names and faces by tomorrow’s event?”
She smiled. “There are only thirty women in the binder.”
“So few?”
“Exclusive and elite.”
“Ah, right.”
“All the ladies working tomorrow night’s event are sleeping here tonight.”
I frowned. “Why?”
“Call time is seven a.m. for the stylist chairs. We fly down to Austin mid-day. It’s going to be a long day tomorrow.” She paused. “And a longer night. Take the binder, memorize the faces and names. Annika will show you to your suite.”
“But I don’t have a change of clothes—or pajamas.”
Genevieve grinned. “We’re a luxury hotel. We sized you during the dress fitting. You have clothes waiting for you, and every comfort item from a toothbrush to room service is now at your disposal. You’re completely provided for.”
The idea of ordering every dessert on the room service menu made me giddy.
“Sleep well,” she said.
I inclined my head, wondering how I was possibly going to sleep with the adrenaline coursing through me.
I left Genevieve’s office. Annika was back at her desk, her bun compact and devoid of flyaways. I wondered about her. She had a key to The Fifteenth Floor. Was she just Genevieve’s assistant, or would I find her face in the binder?
“I like your hair,” Annika said, rising from her desk. “I don’t remember if I told you that.”
I blinked. “Thank you. Jase did a great job, didn’t she?”
Annika nodded. “She’s a master.” She waved me down the hallway. We passed the wardrobe room and then turned the corner. There was a door at the end of a short corridor and as we entered, the decor changed immediately. It finally looked like a hotel floor complete with numbered wooden doors.
“This floor is reserved for our girls. No clients are allowed in these rooms, even if you want them to come, so don’t bring them.”
“What happens when there’s an event at The Rex and someone wants to be with a girl for the night?” I asked. There was no end to my questions. As soon as I had one answered, a few more popped up to take its place.
“Girls only go into our clients’ hotel suites.”
“And there’s no worry about mistreatment?”
“No. Our clients are vetted. They’re screened thoroughly as a prerequisite to entering our world. These are not random men from the streets. Besides, security screens every room for cameras or anything suspicious or out of place. So you don’t have to worry about a video of your night with a client hitting the internet, and neither do they. Everything we do is controlled.”
We arrived at suite number twenty. She inserted a universal key into the lock and pushed the door open but made no move to step inside.
I went in and looked around, listening with one ear as Annika continued to speak.
“Key to the suite is on the coffee table next to your new cell phone. It’s been pre-programmed with all the numbers you’ll need. Genevieve is speed dial one. I’m speed dial two. You contact Gen for high-level inquiries or major problems only, and me for everything else. I’ll answer any questions you have about scheduling and the like. New clothes are in the dresser. Dinner will be brought up for you at seven. Anything you need that is standard hotel fair, dial the front desk and The Rex will see to it. Food, towels, clean sheets, etc. Got it?”
“Gen for the important stuff, you for admin, The Rex for comfort. Got it. Thank you,” I said, marveling at the decor. Cream and gray lush carpet and furniture adorned the room. I wondered what the bedroom looked like but would wait to explore until Annika was gone.
“I know this is daunting and overwhelming,” she said. “If you need to talk to someone about all of this, please know that you can talk to me.”
I said slowly, “No offense, but I hardly know you.”
She smiled.
“Sorry, I know that was rude, but I—”
“Genevieve is the Madame. She’s our boss. She’s not a Girl Scout leader. She won’t