Spy Games by Gina Robinson Read Free Book Online

of a woman.
    “My sophomore year in college I was playing summer ball, giving private pitching lessons, and working at the U’s softball summer camp for girls. One day when I was home visiting, Dara popped over. She’d been working on a sports bra for the full-figured woman. She was putting together a brochure to take to potential investors and needed a ‘hot, young, athletic thing’ to model it and I fit the bill. Plus I worked for free.
    “Dara got her financing thanks, she claimed, to how sexy I looked in the bra. She insisted that I was the look of 3D and kept me on as 3D took off. She started paying me, gave me free sports bras and I just kept modeling for her. Things grew from there. I quit modeling last year and helped Dara run the campaign to find the next 3D girl.” I’d reached the unhappy part of the story. I didn’t feel like talking anymore. I glanced at my watch. “It’s getting late. I should turn in.”
    “I’ll walk you back,” Van said.
    I was hoping he would. Safety rule number one for stalking victims—never go anywhere alone.
    “Great! Would you mind swinging through the lobby with me? The desk clerk promised me a new room.”
    He looked at me quizzically.
    “Mine smells of smoke,” I said, covering. “I asked for nonsmoking. I’m allergic.” Well, I’m allergic to matchbooks left by stalkers. Plus I needed to mail that letter.
     
    In the lobby, I slipped Huff’s letter from my pocket into the mail drop in one swoop. Stealthy as I tried to be, I didn’t have Huff’s dexterity. Van caught a glimpse of my postal action.
    “Mailing postcards already?” he asked.
    “There’s nothing that says ‘I love you’ like a free postcard. Mom likes that I remember her.”
    “Geez! Your mom’s easy to please. Maybe she could talk to mine.”
    I shrugged. There was a different clerk at the desk than the one I’d spoken to earlier. I gave her my name, saying that I was switching rooms, hoping I didn’t have to re-explain everything. But the other guy seemed to have taken care of things and filled her in.
    “We have three rooms available,” she said. “Room one forty-two.”
    “That would be ground floor?” I asked.
    She nodded.
    “No, thanks. I don’t do ground floor.”
    “Room seven fifteen?” She looked optimistic.
    I made her show it to me on a map. “Next to the fire escape. No good.”
    “That leaves…six twenty-three.” She sounded hesitant. “But that’s on the same floor. You may experience the same allergy problem as before—”
    “She’ll take it,” Van said, looking from her to me. “That’s right next to mine.”
    I agreed and the girl made my new key.
    “You’ll have one more entry on your old key, to allow you to gather your things and move to the new room,” she said as she handed the key over. “That’ll complete your transfer.”
    “Great. Thanks so much.” I debated whether to dismiss Van. Only I couldn’t quite make myself do it. Which gave me no choice. I had to speak again to the clerk in front of him. “I need you to keep my new room number confidential. Can you make a note not to give it out to anyone? Not even my mother. Not even me.”
    Evidently, the girl didn’t feel like asking questions was part of her job. She’d probably heard it all. She tapped something in on her computer and that was that.
    “I’m surprised you didn’t ask to speak with the hotel security manager,” Van said as we walked away toward the elevators.
    “Tips from Oprah ,” I said. “A woman traveling alone can’t be too careful.”
    “This has nothing to do with winning another ‘I’ve been spied’ shirt?” His tone was light. I don’t think I threw him off the scent, though.
    When we reached my old room, my hand shook as I tried to insert the key card.
    “May I?” Van took the key card and opened the door.
    “No!” I grabbed his arm as he prepared to enter.
    He paused and gave me a curious look, which I ignored as I scanned the room from