Page 32 of Break the Ice
“I see. Hawk was a very popular man at events.”
“Have you given any thought to how the hotel will handle… any questions that the authorities or media might raise?”
The corner of his lip twitches. “Ah, Ms. March. Now, I understand why you’ve agreed to meet tonight. I’m sure you’ve thought of the angle the team will take. Are you asking if we’ll corroborate your version of the occasion?”
That’s exactly what I’m asking… in a roundabout way. Beneath that exterior layer, I’m checking how much Mr. Blackman knows about what went on that night and if the Onyx will be cooperating with any police investigation should one be launched.
There are cameras all over the huge luxury hotel. Surely, the cameras have footage of that night that could be incriminating…
“I want to make sure the relationship you and the team have fostered remains intact. It seems most beneficial for both parties.”
“Ms. March, I can assure you anything that happened on the property that night will remain private,” he says. “Hawk himself would’ve wanted it that way. But enough talk about the Wolves’ party. I’m curious to know more about you. What brings a beautiful woman like yourself to Seattle? Most women like you prefer somewhere like Los Angeles.”
“It was an opportunity I couldn’t pass up.”
“An ambitious woman. Very attractive.”
Mr. Blackman’s lip twitch is his version of a smile. I keep mine pasted on despite the warmth flooding me and the shaky feeling in my stomach. He says so little yet so much at the same time, letting me know just what kind of ally he could be.
An hour and a half later, I wander up to my hotel room. A comped courtesy from Mr. Blackman for accepting his dinner invite in the first place. He made sure I had his personal number before I left the restaurant dining room.
“So you won’t have to go through my assistant,” he said with a wink.
I sigh and lean my head back against the elevator wall. The numbers increase as the metal box lifts me higher and higher in the tall building comprised of dark glass. When it finally reaches my floor and the doors glide open, I step into the hall feeling more conflicted than I hoped.
Tonight has been all about making a strategic move. Establishing I don’t need to entertain Rafe and his blackmail attempt. I can make powerful friends on my own.
So why do I still feel so… uncertain? Why does it still feel like I’m in danger?
I should’ve called the police. I should’ve immediately called 911 and let the chips fall where they were supposed to.
What the hell was I thinking letting Rafe take over?
I was so shocked, so foggy-brained, I froze up. I lost any sense about me. An unexpected dead body will do that to you.
I swipe my keycard into the door of my hotel room. The second I’m a couple steps inside, I’m stripping off my clothes. I unzip my dress and let it roll down to my hips. My arms twist behind my back and my fingers fumble with the hooks on my bra.
Both my dress and bra fall to the floor. Only my panties remain as I gather my toiletry items from my overnight bag and twist on the shower knob in the bathroom. Soon steam rolls out of the open doorway and invades the rest of the suite. I’m so eager to hop into the steaming hot shower, I almost don’t notice that my blouse is missing.
Earlier I’d been in a rush and left my clothes discarded on the bed. My skirt is where I remember it, but my satin blouse is nowhere to be found.
I pause for a second, listening to the staticky noise of the shower, and glance around the room. Suddenly, something feels very… off.
I struggle to put my finger on what. Just that it prompts a shudder out of me.
Mr. Blackman wasn’t the kind of dinner date you can relax around. I’m probably still tense from our exchange.
It stays on my mind as I finally step into the shower. The scalding hot water feels so good on my skin that I dread ever getting out. My fingertips are pruned by the time I reach for a towel and wrap it around my body.
Tonight may not have been a total success—though I’m confident Mr. Blackman will be a useful ally—but it was worth it for the free night’s stay in the Onyx Hotel.
My freshly conditioned hair hangs slick and wet along my shoulders as I walk out into the rest of the suite to change.
I make it only a couple steps before I stop. My attention falls on the bed, where my satin blouse has suddenly reappeared, laying flush where I left it next to my skirt.
But it’s not in the condition it’s supposed to be. As I cautiously pad closer, clutching my towel to my body, my brows push together at my discovery.
Streaks of some kind of pearly liquid soak in the luxury fabric. I lean even closer, studying the substance.
