Page 60 of The Business Trip

I stood there, frozen, trying to decide what to do. This jerk wanted me to come down to his room. Clearly I couldn’t do that. The risk of spending more time with him, him asking me questions, plying me with drinks while he tried to get into my pants. It was all way too much of a gamble, and he made me sick anyway. He reminded me of Glenn, cocky and demanding. A flash of Drake came into my mind too. Forcing sex on Allison and then running off without so much as a word. Although I despised her, his actions had always made me feel angry too. Rage started to surge. Men. I was sick of them.

And then a thought came into my head.

Maybe it wasn’t a bad thing to have his key card. In fact, the most sinister plan of all started to reveal itself. If I had his key card and he was gone at the cocktail party or elsewhere…

I held out my hand and took the card from him, giving him that shy, flirtatious, come-hither smile that always got guys.

“Thank you, Trent. If I feel better, I’ll come down, but if not, I’ll catch up with you tomorrow. I’ll be sure to look for you. I promise.” I gave him my most flirtatious smile.

“Right on,” he said, and I sensed his triumph. “Mi casa es su casa—come on by. You don’t even have to knock, just come in. The minibar is stocked.”

Remembering Spanish from high school, I knew that “Mi casa es su casa” meant “My house is your house.” I batted my eyes.

“Goodbyefor now,” I said in a purr and pushed the door closed. Turning the latch, I stood in silence, Trent’s key card in my hand.

He had no idea what a huge mistake he had just made. I had a very strong feeling that Trent was another one of those rich people who had always gotten whatever he wanted. He probably didn’t have to spend a cent himself for college and then likely paid some nerdy dude to write papers for him to get good grades and impress his wealthy parents. He probably had Daddy’s money for anything he wanted and dated a hot sorority girl and then cheated on her with another hot sorority girl. I bet he had a crazy-expensive car and belonged to a country club and had his initials monogrammed on his shirts and had soft hands because he never truly worked a day in his life and left dirty towels all over his hotel room knowing some worker would pick them up and tipped cute waitresses and now believed he could get me to sleep with him just by flashing that stupid fake smile. He made me sick, so sick. The thought of his paws on me turned my stomach, but the thought of me turning the tables on him brought me a rush of joy. Oh, he wouldn’t know what hit him, that piece of shit.

My newly forming plan would be payback for every woman out there who had to deal with guys like him everywhere. Itmight even be retribution on behalf of Allison, for the way Drake had treated her, and I couldn’t believe I was thinking that.

I crawled back into bed and began to hash out my plan. I knew when the conference ended Saturday, thanks to the name tag. I would look up flights to Atlanta to get the general sense of when he’d be leaving; then I’d change my hair, pick up my money from Western Union, return my rental car early, and wait in the ticketing area until I saw him. When he was out of sight, I’d buy a ticket on the same plane and follow him there, getting an Uber behind him to his condo and texting one of Stephanie’s friends that I had met a great guy.

Except after a short time, Trent wouldn’t be so great anymore, and then I’d drop some sort of bomb on Steph’s friend about him wanting to kill me. That would be the paper trail for police. The DNA would already be inside his condo without him even knowing it. And he lived in Atlanta—perfect. Raven came to mind. She would be happy to help—she had even told me so. She was always out to make a little cash and liked a good scam.

First, I needed to secure money. Getting out of bed and grabbing Stephanie’s laptop and the hotel stationery and pen, I propped some pillows up behind me and set the laptop on my knees, then went back to “Passwords” and wrote down all of the ones for her banking accounts. I could go to an ATM with her debit card tomorrow. Right now, my plan was to draw $5,000 from each of her three credit cards and ask that it be wired to the closest Western Union. Five thousand seemed like a safe number. Not something so outlandish that it would raise giant flags, but the combined $15,000, plus whatever I could get from her debit card, would be enough that I could have a cushion to do what I needed to do in Atlanta, pay Raven, and get myself to Mexico.

The wire transfer was easy, and all three promised to be ready by eight a.m. Friday morning. Things were clicking into place. Picking up my phone, I scrolled through my contacts until I found Raven.

Hey, girl, long time, no talk. Are you in Atlanta right now? Do you want to make $1,000?

She wrote back almost right away.

Jasmine!!! I’m here. You know I want some of that $! What do I have to do?

I need you to follow a guy and slip something into his drink for me. I’ll text you the address. It’s going down Saturday night. I’m coming to town. You free?

For $1,000 I am. I got ya, sister. I’ll be ready.

And with that, satisfied that I had done everything I needed to do, I shut off the light and finally fell fully asleep.

When I woke, it was dusk, and I could hear commotion in the hallway, people talking and laughing, doors closing.

Cocktail hour. It was here.

Shooting out of bed, I went to my window and pulled the curtain back a touch. My view was right over the courtyard where the big outdoor fireplace was, and I could see the first conference attendees starting to show up, mingling around thebar area holding beer bottles, glass tumblers, or wineglasses. Servers were milling about with appetizers on trays. The sixth floor was all for conference people, and based on the noise in the hallway, everyone seemed to be going. I watched as the courtyard filled up, hearing the ding of the elevator down the hall again and again until the hallway was quiet.

Continuing to peek out, I waited until I saw Trent. There he was, looking smarmy as always, walking up to the groups with the prettiest women and holding court. I couldn’t hear him, of course, but I could see him gesturing, telling stories while chugging on the perennial bottle of beer in his hand. My eyes drifted across the courtyard and found Dorothy and Alan, my other tablemates, in an entirely different part of the cocktail party, standing around a high-top table with glasses of wine, seeming to have a deep conversation with a couple of other people. Trent headed back to the bar for another beer, and I knew the time was now. But I had to act fast, just in case.

CHAPTER 39Jasmine

One Day After the Flight

Grabbing Trent’s key card and some rubber gloves from the box I had gotten at Walmart, I slipped out my door and down two to his.

The latch opened easily and I was in. His curtains were open, his room also overlooking the courtyard. I knew I couldn’t dare turn a lamp on or go near the window, just in case, but the light coming in from outside gave me just enough to see by. Going into his bathroom, I grabbed his razor and a small pair of scissors men used for sideburns off the sink counter and slipped them carefully into a pocket, then found his suitcase open in the main room. It was one of those fancy ones that had a bunch of little pockets for different things. Perfect.

Looking in his closet, I noticed a row of suit coats lined up and identified the one he wore that day. It had an inside breast pocket that was just what I was looking for.

Sitting on a shelf in his closet, there was a pile of monogrammed handkerchiefs, all crisp and white with littleTJMs stamped on each. Although I worried he might notice one missing, I couldn’t help it. I had to take one. I had a feelingit would come in handy for me, and he would likely either be pissed at his assistant for not packing enough or think a housekeeper stole one.

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