Page 8 of Enemies

Harrison’s right about one thing—I can’t leave without a plan. Right now, if he wants to go after me legally, I have no doubt he’d win.

Annie wants a story.

I might be young, but I’m not powerless.

I won’t run from this villain.

Not without getting a few swings in first.

Harrison King might be the man with the money.

But I’m the girl with the mic.

A light knock at the door has me turning back toward the room as Natalia comes in, a perplexed look on her face. “Where are your bags?”

“The airline lost them.”

Her eyes widen. “Dios mío. I can take you shopping, if you like, or send you to the best boutiques.”

I cross to the middle of the room and look down at my clothes. I need something to wear tonight if I’m not leaving today. “Maybe not the best boutiques,” I warn because that sounds expensive. “If I called them and told them what I wanted, could they send a few items over?”

“Of course.”

“Including a wig,” I say, setting my phone on the dresser and tugging out the half-assed bun I made on the side of the road an hour ago. “Blond,” I decide.

If it’s a strange request, she doesn’t balk. “You should go to the beach. We also have a pool and a jacuzzi. Enjoy yourself before you have to work. You’re too young to look so serious.”

Inspired, I reach for my computer.

Natalia is right. Just because I’m here doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy myself a little.

Defiance flows through my veins as I send off a quick text to Annie with some lyrics for a new verse.

My contract says I’ll play for Harrison King.

It doesn’t say I have to do it nicely.

4

HARRISON

“We’re here, señor.” My driver’s eyes meet mine in the rearview mirror as he pulls up in front of the club.

I straighten my suit. “Thank you, Toro.”

“Are you sure you’re ready?”

I frown. “It’s a Thursday night like any Thursday night.”

Except it doesn’t feel like it. My body is humming, braced for a fight or coming off of one.

I shift out before Toro can open my door. He follows me around anyway, stubbornly taking the car door in his aging hands as I fasten my jacket.

“It’s a new club. The renovations are only just complete. And new talent,” he goes on as I start for the entrance.

I pull up, turning to cock my head at him. He only nods before retreating to the driver’s side.

New talent indeed.

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