Warm baths, good razors, and nourishing shaving cream are taken for granted by most, but I know what it’s like to live without these privileges. Mom and I moved a lot—crashing with friends or boyfriends. We stayed in motels, and sometimes we’d sleep at the club. Cricket shaved my legs for the first time when I was eleven years old in an Oregon strip club’s bathroom with four other girls standing around. She used soap, water, and a single-bladed razor.
My skin was irritated for a week.
As an adult, my razor is gold-plated and has a strip of moisturizer across the top. It slides slowly and precisely over the curve of my knee, not missing anything. I shake it clean in the water before continuing, shaving every inch of skin until my legs are sleek.
My rituals are strict, and my intentions are deliberate. I won’t ever be the girl who shaves her legs in a public restroom or doesn’t know where she’s going to sleep at night again. My mother’s life served as a personal what not to do tutorial.
“Lydia, I was just thinking about you, sweetheart,” Inez says. Her voice echoes through the speakerphone.
I sit at my vanity after my bath before an expansive spread of designer makeup and hair products. White light reflects around my pupils and showcases every freckle across my nose. I cover them with concealer and roll my green eyes at Inez.
“You’re thinking about your payday,” I say with a smile.
“How are you?” she asks. She doesn’t say I’m wrong. “Is there anything I can help with?”
Sweeping blush across my cheekbones, I ask, “When will the car be here to pick me up?”
“In one hour. You’re scheduled for Talent’s last appointment of the evening. He’s on the top floor, and from what I’m told, the rest of the office should be relatively empty.”
“How did you manage that?” I ask.
Inez laughs. “Naomi assures me everything’s taken care of. You have nothing to worry about.”
My stomach drops, and I lower my gaze from my reflection to the phone. This situation keeps falling deeper and deeper out of my comfort zone. “That doesn’t make me feel better, Inez. Do you trust her, because I’m not sure I do?”
“Don’t concern yourself with anyone but Talent Ridge until tomorrow, Lydia. He’s our only concern.”
“I’m keeping my cut on this one,” I say.
“Of course, you are. I wouldn’t expect anything less,” she says. I knew I could get away with such a demand, because the money I’ll make from my appointment with Talent today is pennies compared to what she predicts to earn in the long run. “But you will call me after for a full report.”
I smirk. “I wouldn’t expect anything less from you.”
Talent Ridge’s reputation precedes him. He’s Grand Haven royalty, crowned not only for his accomplishments and charity, but because he’s drop-dead gorgeous and single. I spent most of the night finding out what I could about the younger Ridge son online. The man’s rich and good-looking, but that’s not news to anyone. What I wanted to see is the type of girl he’s interested in.
He dates within his circle, seen out in public only with other wealthy heiresses. From what I gather, Talent doesn’t stay involved with one person for long. The internet wonders when he’s going to settle down, who it’ll be with, and if the death of his mother somehow left the poor man emotionally damaged and afraid of commitment.
The internet is stupid.
Talent is a twenty-eight-year-old millionaire with the entire world in the palm of his hand. Why would he choose to settle down with one woman when he can have them all?
Ending the call, I close my phone and power it down. Talking to Inez does nothing to soothe the pinprick of unease in the bottom of my stomach. It’s best if we cut communication until this job is done.
My appointments take place in an office setting, and since I’m supposed to be nothing more than a regular patient or client, my attire consists of pencil skirts and tops that cover the barely-there lace underneath. Inez assures me that Talent and I will be alone, so I need to pull out all the stops and be bold.
I finish my makeup with dark ruby lipstick before I curl my hair into loose waves that cascade down my back. Stepping out of my robe in front of my dresser, I open the top drawer where a forest green set of lace lingerie