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CHAPTER2
Mila
I sat back on the lounge chair, enjoying a margarita by the pool under the warm kiss of the sun. The umbrella over my head ruffled slightly in the breeze. There was a fluffy white cloud drifting in the sky, and I smiled, noticing it looked like a giant dragon with its wings outstretched.
This was the life, at least that’s what all the hotel commercials said. I’d booked a room at the Waldorf, one of the most expensive places in the city. The rooftop pool and bar were beautiful and not super busy like most of the cheaper hotels. The men and women that frequented this place were the crème de la crème, decked out to the nines in expensive swimsuits, sundresses, and sandals that were all designer, and I couldn’t even begin to guess what the label was on any of them.
One woman was even wearing a pair of red-bottomed high-heeled shoes. I knew those were some sort of a statement piece, but I’d never cared to know anything more.
Honestly, I felt like the biggest imposter here. I was wearing an equally expensive one-piece swimsuit, but only because I wanted to try to fit in and the front desk had offered to get me whatever I wanted. I’d had my own personal shopper for the day and all I’d had to do was provide a piece of plastic to pay for everything he picked out for me.
Even though I’d earned this, it still felt weird.
I looked down, studying the coral and rose pink and cream blocked sections of the swimsuit. It was styled with only one shoulder and ruched across the waist.
It didn’t feel like me.
It had been about two weeks since my last job and I’d been enjoying the fruits of my labor ever since. I’d moved all of the cash I’d stolen into an untraceable offshore account, and I’d sold off several pieces of the jewelry I stole to interested buyers that I found through several secure channels. I kept a few things for myself, including a really pretty solitaire tanzanite and diamond necklace that I currently had around my neck. I held it in my fingers absentmindedly, tracing my thumb along the edge as I watched the rich people in the pool drink an impressive amount of really expensive top-shelf champagne. They were going to feel that in the morning, unless rich people had somehow figured out a way to escape hangovers too.
I sipped on my margarita, feeling like the biggest fraud ever.
I didn’t know why I was staying here. I didn’t feel like I belonged even a little. Sure, I’d worked my ass off and had made a name for myself, but I still wasn’t comfortable doing anything to spend the money I’d earned.
I’d grown up on the street. I’d gone hungry often because I hadn’t been able to afford food. My clothes were often worn through in places, but I learned to sift through clothing donation boxes pretty early on in order to replace them. My mother was still alive as far as I knew, but she had a drug addiction and hadn’t been there for me for as long as I could remember. My father had disappeared the day I was born, not wanting to be held down by the bonds of a child or a wife. I didn’t even know his name.
I’d been on my own for a long time. I learned how to steal because I needed to eat, and I’d perfected my skills ever since. I’d never been caught. I had no record. No one had my fingerprints on file and right now, I could be set for life simply because I wished it. Right now, I could jump on a plane, leave the country, buy a house on an island somewhere, and live out the rest of my days in luxury.
I knew myself better than that though. I’d be restless before too long. I’d want the rush of preparing for a job, breaking and entering, and figuring out how to take from the rich without them being any the wiser.
Plus, I had powerful friends now and as much as I wanted to relax and never have to break into another house again, I knew they would come calling sooner or later. I could try to hide or flee the country, but they would find me in the end.
This was my life and I simply had to live it.
With a sigh, I got up and slipped my feet into my fancy flip-flops. I’d already forgotten the designer’s name. I shrugged my dress back on and left the pool because this was probably more sun than I’d ever gotten in a single day in all my life. I took my unfinished drink with me.
I got into the elevator, watching the numbers rise after I pushed the button to the twelfth floor. When the doors slipped open, I returned to my room and changed for bed even though it was only four in the afternoon. I fingered the soft stretchy purple fabric of my nightshirt and pulled it over my head. I smiled when I found a matching pair of lacey cotton panties and slipped those on too. The outfit was simple, but it made me feel pretty.
Not that anyone would see it.
I hopped into the oversized king bed, grabbing the remote and turning on a romantic comedy. I settled in for the evening, enjoying my solitude and the rest of my margarita in the quiet of my own room. It felt nice to not be with rich people anymore, and I could simply be myself.
The sky grew dark, and I could see the city lights started blinking on all around me through the floor-to-ceiling windows of my room. I fell asleep sometime later.
I woke up to a knock at the door the next morning. Blearily, I blinked, and the knock sounded again. I pushed myself up to a seated position. Confused didn’t even begin to describe how I felt. With a soft groan, I rubbed my eyes and tried to wake up.
“Room service,” a voice called out.
Had I even ordered anything? I furrowed my brow, trying to remember.
That’s right. I had at check-in. The front desk had asked if I wanted anything special and I had requested morning coffee sometime after ten o’clock. With a disgruntled groan, I climbed out of bed and walked out of the bedroom into the front living room. I pulled my nightshirt into place before answering the door and smiled as a man in a suit pushed in a rolling tray complete with an enormous vat of coffee. Knowing this place, it probably cost a thousand dollars or something crazy because they only served the best.
My palate wasn’t trained enough to even begin to tell the difference.
“The Waldorf welcomes you,” the attendant said with an unassuming grin.
I held the door as he walked past me.
“You can leave it here,” I pointed to the dining room table. He nodded and I padded off to the bathroom, quickly brushing my teeth and pulling a hairbrush through my tangled locks. When I felt more presentable, I walked back into the living room and the tray was there waiting on the table. I squealed happily when I saw a small plate of pastries, fruits, and cheeses.
