Influence

Chapter 22

Ice from the minibar, wrapped in a bleached white hand towel. It had about as much affect as a sprinkler would have on a forest fire. She was glad to have it, though. It gave her something to focus on as she lay on the couch in the hotel suit. If she could focus on the cold, maybe she could grow it until it numbed everything, not only the pain coming at her from both sides of her head and her right ribcage, but the pain of memory as well.

She moaned, adjusting the makeshift icepack so it wouldn't slide onto her neck.

Jasper stirred from his spot on the bed and came over to her, examining her injuries for the fourth time. "Are you sure I shouldn't take you to the hospital?"

A shake of her head ended in a wince. Best to move as little as possible. "I'll be fine. This isn't my first concussion rodeo."

"You play sports or something?"

It took her a moment to realize he was asking for clarification and not throwing out a random question about her past. "Not unless you count getting beat up by your parents' nefarious bosses an Olympic sport."

He stayed quiet for a moment. "Still, if you need medical care."

"You're the one who said we need to hide, Jasper. Can't go to my place, can't go to yours. What makes you believe the man who attacked me—"

"His name's Aiden."

"This Aiden guy and his, I'm not sure what to call them. His cohorts? Or the police even. What's to stop them from tracking us here? The police can get their hands on hotel registries, can't they?"

"That's why I bribed the front desk clerk to register us under a different name."

"Are you serious?"

"I've done it before. When I want to be left alone and not have Paul track me down."

"Here? At this hotel?"

He scoffed. "I'm smarter than that. Never stayed here before."

"Which means you don't know if you can trust the clerk."

"It was a pretty big bribe."

"Still," working through a wince, she propped herself up on an elbow. It wasn't her greatest moment, agreeing to come alone to a hotel room with a man she'd thought less than an hour ago was trying to kill her over a crime she was innocent of. Still, he had saved her. If he believed she'd killed Goldie, he would have let Aiden continue to beat the shit out of her. She hoped even a man who hated her might believe in her. It was exhausting to be all alone. "Is Aiden one of Goldie's stans? Is her army of Goldie Girls and Guys coming for me?"

"Most of them can't even drive yet. You don't have much to fear from them."

"Remind me to show you a few of the DMs I've gotten over the past couple of days."

"Aiden isn't a fan. He's from Wanton Cosmetics."

"What?" Maybe the concussion haze had set in, but she couldn't recall anyone named Aiden, and she'd made dozens of calls to the company's execs and their administrative assistants. "We deal mainly with Sally Cohen, Eloise Hu, and sometimes Daniel Minkoff. What department does Aiden work in? What's his last name?"

"I can't remember, and I'm pretty sure the department he works for isn't in the company registry."

"You're not making this easy for me."

He sat next to her on the couch. "I never have. Made it easy for you, I mean."

"You can fix that by telling me whatever it is that you know, right now."