She drops a pod into the coffee maker and closes the lid, looking at me skeptically. No doubt she’s questioning what in the world I could possibly need from her. “Of course.”
Pulling my hair down from its ponytail, I start toward my bedroom and say, “The next time you talk to Inez, tell her we need to talk.”
If Hush is in serious trouble, Inez has opted to keep me in the dark. She warned me not to seek her out, leaving me with no choice but to keep what happened with Naomi this morning to myself until Inez contacts me first. I have to believe she has my best interest in mind. Inez always has.
Before my bath, I text Talent to let him know not to send a car for me.
I’m coming to you, I text.
If I can’t talk to Inez about Naomi’s attempted vehicular homicide, maybe I can confide in Talent.
See you soon, baby, he types back.
What does a girl wear to a lunch date with the most gorgeous man in the city when she plans to dump the other half of her story on his lap? Comfortable shoes in case Talent runs and I have to chase after him? A top that exposes a lot of cleavage to distract him from the tales of a modern-day call girl? Or maybe I’ll cover every inch of skin and hope he doesn’t judge me too harshly once he knows the entire truth.
I decide on a casual black slip midi dress paired with a strappy heel, keeping it real while also dressed like a regular twenty-six-year-old girl. I wrap my hair around a large barrel curling iron for the perfect waves and choose a neutral eye shadow and bold red lip color.
Camilla’s flipping through a magazine on the couch when I emerge from my bedroom. Her eyes shift from the tabloid, to me, to the tabloid, and back to me again. She wolf whistles as I walk through the living room, slipping hoop earrings through my ears.
“Wow, Lydia. You are gorgeous,” she says.
“I’m not working today,” I explain, which isn’t my style. But the incident with Naomi this morning left an uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach, and Camilla should know I won’t be back for a while. “Talent’s taking me to lunch. I don’t know when I’ll be home.”
“Did he stay here last night?” she asks over the back of the couch. “I thought I heard his voice this morning.”
The last thing I want to do is speak on my personal life when I don’t have the answers myself. I slip my clutch under my arm and head to the door, hesitating before I leave.
“Camilla, I don’t need to explain to you why we don’t talk to anyone about Hush, right? If you’re approached and asked about work, even by a potential client, you don’t know anything.”
Furrowing her eyebrows in confusion, she replies, “I’d never say a word.”
“Small talk with neighbors is one thing.” It’s clear as I struggle with basic human interaction, isolation is poisonous. I don’t want that for Camilla, but she’s chosen this life and she needs to proceed with caution. “Don’t let your guard down. If anyone asks too many questions or makes you feel uncomfortable, go to Inez or come to me right away.”
“I know that,” she responds.
“You can’t trust anyone, Camilla.” I open the door to see Yael waiting curbside. Maybe I need to take my own advice, but none of my self-imposed rules seem to apply anymore.
“What about you?” Camilla calls after me. “Can I trust you, Lydia?”
“Good afternoon, Miss Smith.” Yael offers his hand as I step into the back of his SUV, and he closes the door once I’m safely inside the vehicle.
Yael is an older, dark-skinned man with thick freckles across his face and snow-white hair under his driving cap. Maybe it’s his age or his quiet demeanor, but I need a dependable driver to chauffeur me back and forth from my place to Talent’s, and Yael was the only logical choice.
“I’m going downtown,” I say, buckling my seat belt. “The Ridge & Sons building, please.”
Yael’s dark eyes meet mine through the reflection in the rearview mirror. “Is this just a drop-off, or would you like me to wait for you?”
I shake my head, forcing myself not to break eye contact despite how wrong it feels to go against my own instructions. “Your discretion