rmac jolted Annabelle awake. She pulled off her s

. The New York sky was a bruised, angry gray. A vicious gust of

she had found online. She hauled her luggage down into the subway, navigat

e hallway smelled strongly of stale beer and damp mil

He had a massive beer belly straining against a stained undershirt. His greasy ey

crossed her arms defensively

eth. He pushed open a battered wo

hung in strips, and a flickering neon sign from the liquor store across the s

A man in a dirty tank top stepped out. He held a lit ciga

rag. He stepped entirely too close, blowing a c

ght-or-flight instincts screamed. She gripped the

ing this," sh

round and

me, you stuck-up bitch?

s, her suitcase bouncing and crashing against the steps. She b

n. A torrential downpour hi

ain plastered her hair to her skull and filled her shoes. She dragged

red a high-end lounge on the Upper East Side that a fellow artist had mentioned was looking for

ing out from the establishment. She practicall

he warm, amber lighting of the lounge. People in tailored suits and designer dresses sipped champagne. T

ulky suitcase behind a

wung open. A wave of warm air, smelling of va

. A valet immediately opened a large black umbrella over

ed on Annabelle. She frowned, tilting h

face away, her chee

nnabelle

ze. She slowl

et a year ago at an elite underground racing club in Europe. Annabelle had been a driver-a reckless, adrenaline-fueled rebellion against her suffocating family expecta

elle whispered, he

doing out here? You're fr

might be hiring," Annabelle admitted,

uitcase and shoved it at the confused valet. Then, she

" Gabriella ordered, pul

ripping we

aid fiercely. She dragged A

ed towel. Gabriella draped it over Annabelle's shoulders and led her toward a private VIP