Page 30 of Peasants and Kings
He’d offer me solace. He’d offer me a night of forgetting. And then I’d wake up with a whole host of other problems because from the moment I’d let The Rex doctor examine me, my body was no longer mine.
It belonged to The Rex.
With a sigh, I turned my back on him and stalked toward the exit. A black town car was waiting for us at the curb, and a bunch of bikers were looking at us with interest.
“Why did you call a car?” I asked. “You didn’t drink that much. You could’ve driven us back in my car.”
“Your car is gone, Sterling,” she said softly.
“What did you do, Tiff?”
“Ididn’t do anything. Someone from The Rex came and got it so they can use it to fake your death.”
“How did you—”
“Okay, truthfully, Gen asked me to bring you here. I mean think about it, the last place anyone sees you and your car is a biker bar where you’re doing shots of tequila. They’re going to hang onto your car for a couple of days until after the event. If you commit, then they’ll burn your car and some friends on the police force will retroactively date a few reports, a coroner will get a fat envelope to write some things out, and it’s done.”
Tears threatened my eyes. The car was a piece of shit, used, and the paint was chipped and faded. But it had been mine. It was all I had of my old life.
A life that no longer existed.
A life that hadn’t been much of a life anyway.
Chapter Seven
I entered The Rex two days later at nine a.m. on the dot. My hair was pulled back into a sleek ponytail and I was wearing skinny jeans and a white blouse. Annika met me in the lobby and took me to The Fifteenth Floor and showed me into Gen’s office.
Gen handed me a black jewelry box. Inside, was a rose gold key on a delicate chain. “This will allow you access to the elevator. You don’t need anyone to accompany you. We also need to discuss the fact that you can’t use your real name anymore. Even though you don’t have a new identity yet, I still don’t want you going by your given name.”
And so it begins.
“Have you thought of a name you like? You’ll use it as your persona and it will be the name on your new ID.”
“No. I thought you were going to assign me a name.”
“The choice is yours. A lot of girls choose gemstones,” Gen supplied, trying to guide me. “And I suggest something common for a last name.”
After a moment I said, “Eden. Eden Smith.”
She smiled slowly. “Head on down to the salon. They will be expecting you, Eden.”
I nodded, and in a daze, I took the elevator and used my key for the first time. It was surreal. I could only imagine how I’d feel when I attended my first event.
I walked across the lobby, glancing around, wondering if I’d run into the Scottish mystery man I’d met only a few days ago. I couldn’t seem to get him out of my mind. His arrogance, his assurance, his audacious virility all called to me.
When I arrived at the salon and spa entrance, I was greeted by the desk agent. After giving her my name—my new name—she handed me a salon gown and told me to follow her.
The salon was as glamorous as The Rex’s lobby but more soothing, with cream-colored walls, potted plants, and rows of chairs that were lined in a communal setting so friends could gab while getting their hair styled. It was as thoughtful a room as anything else I’d seen concerning The Rex. They had done nothing half-measured, which I appreciated.
I could see why Tiffany was loath to ever walk away from a career at The Rex.
When I was seated in a salon chair, the check-in girl asked me if I wanted anything to drink.
“Hot tea would be great,” I said with a smile. “Thank you.”
“Black? Green? Herbal?”
“Black, please. Earl Grey if you have it.”
