Wild Nights With My Brother’s Ex-Best Friend novel Chapter 112

NICOLE

The drive to Richard’s is short and uneventful. Basically, it’s the one part of this town that doesn’t make sense at all, because it’s clearly a luxury hotel in the middle of old storefronts with signs that look a hundred years old.

It gives me the creeps.

“We could’ve done this ourselves,” Mason comments. “We really didn’t have to pay that lady dinner just to find out we had to come here and talk to someone else.”

“‘I wasn’t aware that you knew who this Sandra woman – was,” I remark sarcastically. “Wow, why didn’t you say anything sooner?”

Annoyance crosses his features, mixed with a pinch of humor. “Come on, Nicole. You know what I mean.”

“Just get out of the car.”

I face the hotel and for some reason, nervousness washes over me, and I have this urge to turn back and drive back to the city. Never look back.

Mason sighs, pulling me out of my thoughts. “Let’s get this done and over with.”

I follow him inside, letting him take the lead. We’re greeted by a porter, then push past the glass doors to reach the lobby. The interior is more luxurious than could’ve imagined, with fancy chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, and a reception desk made of dark, expensive woed.

Friendly smiles greet us, even though it genuinely feels like we don’t belong here. Mason and | are painfully underdressed to be guests here. “Good evening! My name is Pamela, welcome to Richard’s. How can l assist you?”

Mason gives me a dubious look and I nod encouragingly.

After clearing his throat, he tells her, “We’re looking for Sandra. Does she still work here?”

“Yes, of course! Please wait here a moment.”

Pamela disappears, and Mason and I take the time to look around while not moving. He whispers to me, “This place… everything about it is wrong.”

I nod, understanding what he means. To me, it’s very clear that bad things happen here, and this place was built just for that purpose. To satisfy the needs of rich men with dark fantasies. Tears spring to my eyes as I turn my head to look at the entrance. I see Ma walking in here, dressed simply, looking for a way out of her problems, only to end up with me in her belly.

Ma never hated me—not once. I can’t say she ever treated Mason a certain way and me another, even though I must’ve been a reminder of the horrible time she spent here.

Oh, Ma. If only I’d known…Pamela returns with a short woman dressed in a navy blue suit with short, dark hair. Her makeup is done immaculately, too. I exchange a look with Mason when she introduces herself as Sandra. I definitely didn’t think Donna would know someone like her.

They look like they’re worlds apart.

Sandra looks alarmed now. Since her introduction, Mason and I haven’t said a word. I decide to step in this time. “Hi.

I’m sure this must seem so random for you. I’m Nicole, and this is my brother Mason. We were directed here by Donna.

“Donna?” she echoes in disbelief. “What do you want?”

* “We’re looking for answers,” I reveal. “Years ago, my mother spent a night here with a man and fathered me. I want to find out who he is, and Donna claimed you might help us.”

Sandra looks around hesitantly now, and if I have to look deeper, l’d say she’s scared. “Come with me, please. My office is just this way.”

She walks quickly, and I have to jog to catch up. Mason gives me a bewildered look. I can’t tell if he’s finding all of this hilarious, or if he’s as scared as l am. When we reach her office, she gestures for us to walk inside, then shuts the door before locking it.

“I’m not sure why Donna sent you here, knowing fully well that I can’t utter a word about our clients,” she begins asshe makes her way behind her desk. “I haven’t seen that lunatic in years.”

I swallow. Already, this isn’t going as expected.

“You mentioned your mother. Who is she?”

“Jessica Monroe. Maybe you remember her?”

“Sorry, I don’t,” she says curtly. When she takes in our disappointment, she adds placatingly, “A lot of women show up here. It’s hard to keep track of all the names.

Even outsiders have found out about this place over the years. Was she local?”

“Yes.

“Hm. I’m sorry, I can’t remember her. And you mentioned you’re looking for your father…?”

“Yes. Donna mentioned he was nicknamed The Bruiser.”

Sandra tenses completely and stands up. She starts to say something, but then she seems to change her mind as she looks at me more closely. I explain, “I’ve only just found out about this. I’ve never met him, as you can imagine. I just…l want to know more about him.”

“I’m sorry. I can only help you if you sign up.”

“Sign up?”

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