Page 47 of Miss Typed

After the fourteen-hour flight, I was sure I, on the other hand, looked like I could use a long shower and some fresh makeup.

“Hi,” I greeted, giving him a tentative smile. He might not be happy to have me here, but too bad. This was my home. And Donald was my problem to deal with.

“Where’s your heavy coat? Your boots?”

“I gave both away to my sisters before leaving for LA. This fleece is warm. The tennis shoes are fine.”

He was already unbuttoning his coat. “It’s fourteen degrees outside. Here.” He put the jacket around my shoulders before grabbing my suitcase.

“I don’t need your coat.”

My protest earned me a glare, so I simply stayed quiet while following him outside to the large SUV parked curbside. He opened the rear passenger side door and slid my suitcase over before indicating I should get in. Once I did, I realized I was getting into the back seat because a man was already sitting in the front passenger seat. The stranger seemed oblivious to me, speaking in low tones into his phone.

Aiden got into the driver’s side, put the vehicle in gear, and pulled out into traffic.

I stared out the window in silence at the landscape, not feeling an ounce of homesickness. I missed my family, but right now my home felt more like a ball and chain, never quite letting me go. It wasn’t a place I longed to return.

Although Aiden kept glancing in my direction in the rearview mirror, he was quiet, too. The only sounds came from the well-dressed stranger, who I couldn’t get a good look at, save for the back of his head.

We drove into downtown before pulling up at the Westin Hotel. I got out and came face to face with the man from the front seat. He was handsome with a hint of danger. He was also familiar, but I couldn’t place him.

His stare was unapologetic as he took inventory of me from head to toe.

Aiden came around the vehicle with my suitcase and handed his keys to the valet who’d come up.

“Chloe, this is Chance. Chance, Chloe.”

It clicked. “You’re Chance Maxwell. I recognize you from LA.”

He reacted with a jump of his brow while Aiden’s expression showed shock.

“From the Cheetah club,” I clarified.

Chance’s deep voice answered. “You worked there as a waitress last year, didn’t you? Kendall’s roommate?”

I was shocked he remembered me or Kendall. As he was the owner of the club, I’d only seen him once and never met him before now.

He turned to Aiden. “Small fucking world. I’ll be in my room when you’re ready.” He then turned on his heel to go inside. Huh. Guess I was dismissed.

Aiden took my suitcase. “Come on. Let’s get inside.”

Chapter Nineteen

Aiden

Having Chloe here in Toronto presented a number of challenges. The first was that I wanted nothing more than to take her straight up to my room and bury my face between her thighs for the next hour. I’d been reliving the other morning too many times to count. I could try convincing myself it had been a “lapse in judgment,” but in truth, I was far from regretting it.

My second dilemma was how to keep her out of what could be a potentially dangerous confrontation. But she’d pulled the trump card by withholding essential information about the loan shark. Then she’d upped the ante by threatening to wire the full amount to the asshole if I didn’t include her in the business. I had no doubt she’d make good on her threat.

“How do you know Chance?” she inquired once we were alone in the elevator.

Her acquaintance with him wasn’t sitting well. Nor the fact he remembered her. “How do you know him?” I countered.

“He’s the owner of the Cheetah Club where I used to waitress. I never met him, but I did see him come in once or twice. I’m surprised he remembered me or Kendall.”

I wasn’t. Chloe was a striking woman. The type you remembered. “Chance is a friend I brought in from New York. He’s connected to a lot of important people and experienced in dealing with loan sharks.” I didn’t mention Chance’s experience included having plenty of them on his payroll. I also didn’t find it prudent to share that Chance was Reid’s older brother—and certainly not that he was an investor in the Dubai strip club. Chance’s connections might be critical to the success of freeing Chloe from her debt, but he was extremely private. The less we spoke about him, the better.

We got off on the eighth floor where I inserted my key card in the door of the last room down the hall. We walked into the spacious suite, and I put her suitcase on the bench at the end of the king-sized bed. “You must be tired. You’re welcome to take a nap while we—”