“Good afternoon, Miss Svetlana,” the desk porter said, moving out from behind the long marble counter, rubbing his palms together in anticipation of a large tip.
Annabelle discreetly slipped him a twenty. She’d learned early on that it was smart to keep everyone happy.
The desk porter tried not to stare at her. She was a beauty, with her pale red hair and slinky body. She was also quite mysterious. Nobody in the building knew what she or her boyfriend did, just that they were young and rich and that they had plenty of good-looking friends.
