Page 95 of Gilt

“Cachè.”

“Yes, I’m calling to…” I look at Josie and say the first thing that comes to mind, “Find out about a job.”

“You’ve officially lost your mind,” Josie informs me the next morning as we stand in the entry and go over today’s plan. “Who is going to notice something like this?”

“Jameson West needs to be taught a lesson.” I finish throwing my license in her purse, then pass her mine. I’d borrowed a black, lace romper from her that left little to the imagination. Between the fuck me pumps she’d insisted I wear for today’s undercover operation, and handing off my purse, I feel more than a bit out of my element. “Little details are going to be important. Believe me, this Maddox is ex-military.”

“What branch?”

“Why do you care, GI Jane?”

She grabs her bag from me and fishes out her plum lipgloss.

“Don’t wear that!” I grab it back. “I’d never wear that color.”

“You’re also not black, Emma,” she points out dryly.

“I’m tan and wearing a hat,” I shoot back.

She plants her hands on her hips and stares at me. “Hat and tan aside. No one has ever mistaken us for each other.”

“As long as you stay far enough from him, he’ll never know.” I hand her my keys. “Plus, you get to drive the Mercedes.”

Offering her the keys to my shiny new ride was the only part of my insane plan that had interested her.

“You shouldn’t go alone.”

“It’s my only choice unless I want to take Maddox along,” I remind her.

“Why do you care if Jameson knows you’re playing detective?” she asks, dropping the key chain into my bag.

“I don’t. This is about teaching him a lesson.”

“Isn’t love grand?” she quips, but she doesn’t press me further. Neither of us is the type to appreciate a guy overstepping his boundaries. “Just promise me you’ll be careful.”

“I’m not doing anything dangerous.” Not really. I’ve only told her about half of my plans for the day. If Maddox catches up with her, the less she knows, the better.

“Look, he’s worried about you, and he has a right to be. I don’t see why having a little hired muscle with you is so wrong.” She squares her shoulders before she adds, “But I’m your best friend, so lecture over.”

I kiss her cheek. “It’s cute when you worry. I’ll go out the garage. Wait a few minutes and then run out to my car.”

With any luck, my newly hired shadow would be too distracted by both of us leaving to realize we’d switched cars.

Climbing into the driver’s seat of the Civic, memories flood me. I’d learned to drive in this car courtesy of Josie and Becca. Dad was usually too drunk to give proper instructions. While I’m still not a fan of being behind the wheel, at least I’m comfortable here. I know what every button does. The stereo has a radio and a tape deck. I’ve never once needed to check a 300-page instruction manual to figure out how to open the fuel tank.

I don’t bother to look at Maddox’s car as I pull out, but when I finally give in and peek in the rearview mirror, I see he’s starting to pull away from the curb. Dammit, he must assume we’re together. He’s a few car lengths behind me when he comes to a stop. Josie’s in the Mercedes, heading in the opposite direction at breakneck speed.

“I hope I have full insurance on that,” I say to myself. But her dramatic exit works. Maddox backs his car into a driveway and peels out to catch up with her. I blow a kiss.

It might be nice to think the hard part of the day is behind me, but I left a few errands off the list I shared with Josie when I convinced her to help me with my shenanigans.

Pulling over a few blocks away, I glance around to make certain that Maddox didn’t wise up. When I know I’m alone, I dig Dominic Chamber’s card from my wallet and input his address in my phone’s GPS app. He’s only fifteen minutes away, which gives me plenty of time to pay him a visit and still make my interview at Cachè.

With a full day of being in the wrong place at the right time ahead of me, I can’t help hoping that I’ll catch the attention of The Dealer. I failed to mention to Josie that today I’ll be playing the role of live bait. If this amateur creep is interested in photos of Josie with toilet paper, I can only imagine how eager he’ll be to catch me walking into an escort agency. This time, though, I’ll be the one waiting to snap a picture of him.

Reaching into Josie’s purse, I rifle through a handful of receipts from Weckman’s until I find a few lipsticks stashed at the bottom. Pulling the caps off each, I search for the perfect color. The last one, labeled Troublemaker is exactly what I’m searching for. Swiping the bright red over my lips, I smack them together in the mirror. The Dealer has no idea who he’s messed with.

“Say cheese, asshole.”