tried not to swallow her tongue. A simple room in the hotel cost over a grand a night. She couldn’t even imagine what it would cost to have a royal suite. Josie blew out a breath.
“Do I have to give you my fingerprints or something before you let me up?”
The concierge pursed her lips, not at all amused by Josie’s joke. She rolled her eyes and waited for the grumpy woman to walk around the corner to lead her to the elevator.
It was a whole other world than what Josie was used to. She’d met with other hoity-toity clients before, but she never would get used to it. Especially not when she had to be escorted to the elevator and the penthouse like a common thief.
It’s not like people knew she was a thief.
The lack of trust always chafed her.
The concierge knocked on one of the two large white doors. It didn’t take long for the knocking to be answered by the hottest older woman Josie had ever seen up close.
“Holy—” Josie stopped herself just in time. Swearing in the presence of fashion royalty would have been a terrible crime. Sort of like wearing white after Labor Day. Was that still a fashion rule? Josie made a note to ask her newest client.
“You’re Johanna Warwick,” she hadn’t been able to keep the sense of wonder from her voice.
Shit-shit-shit! This was a surprise, and not one that she welcomed. Her two identities, her two worlds, which she always tried very hard to keep apart, were converging in a very real way. Josie wanted to book it, but she couldn’t.
Not without earning her some serious questions from her old professor. That was a bridge she couldn’t burn if she wanted to work in the antiques dealing world ever again.
The elegant woman gave her a warm smile. “That’s what they tell me.” She turned toward the hotel staff member. “Thanks, Sharon. I’ve got it from here.”
Sharon got one last parting shot, giving Josie a judgmental up and down. Her glare silently screamed, who the hell are you that you get to meet with this goddess? Josie wanted to stick out her tongue to Sharon, but instead, she gave Johanna a bright smile.
“I’m sorry about that. Professor Betancourt didn’t tell me you were the client. I thought I was meeting a man named Armstrong.”
Johanna’s green eyes glimmered. “My assistant,” she clarified. “At my age, it’s easy to get overly bored. I like to keep things interesting and determine if a person is worth my time.”
“And their reaction to who you are is a good test of that?”
“Yes,” the woman laughed. “Some people, believe it or not, immediately fawn at my feet, begging for a favor. Others turn up their nose and pretend they have no idea who I am.”
“What happens to people who gush?” Josie said, suddenly very nervous.
“Well, when it’s as adorably done as you just did, I don’t slam the door right away.”
Josie froze, earning her another laugh from Johanna.
“Dear child, I am teasing you. Benecio is a darling old friend, and if he vouches for you, then I know that you’re not going to snap a picture of me or spill some family secrets to the press.”
The Warwicks were often in the gossip rags or paparazzi websites. Usually, it was the youngest son, London, that caused the intense stir. The hottie with a body had recently been tamed by an heiress. The Warwicks’ presence in the media had died down somewhat since then, but Josie could understand why Johanna would be a bit paranoid as to who she let into her life.
It made Josie feel like shit that she would have to use Johanna, and Professor Betancourt, to get Milo Steiner off her back. If there had been any other way, Josie would have found it.
As it was, stealing from the Warwicks was the only way she could protect her best friend, her Gammy, her family, and her life.
“You must wonder why I’ve called you here to meet with me,” Johanna said as she settled on the large gray sectional.
The suite was nothing short of palatial. Josie’s apartment could have fit in the space three times over with room spared to have a shoe closet.
“I mean, it’s not every day you get a call from Johanna Warwick.”
Johanna waved a hand dismissively at her with a sly smile. “I’m not as important as all that.”
Josie could have swallowed her tongue. “So,” she coughed, trying to appear calm and collected. “What can I