Sinners & Starlight: Chapter One
It's impossible to avoid an inevitable reunion when Fate aligns with a meddling friend...
Elena checked the address in the text again.
No, she did get it right.
But how? Seka said the event was at The Solarium Hotel, 7 p.m. and across the street from Luca’s Coffee. Elena frowned as she glanced across that very street where, sure enough, Luca’s was closing up shop for the day.
The building her navigation app pinged just didn’t look like a hotel. Not a normal one, anyway.
Where were the windows?
She glanced around the quiet street, disappointed to see she was the only one there. And—if she was going to admit this to herself—she felt more than a little nervous about walking into some strange place that could potentially turn out to be wrong. And packed full with grumpy security guards intolerant of lost intruders.
Elena sighed, then tapped a message back to her gig client. “I think I’m here?” She snapped a quick picture of what looked like the only entrance into the building and sent it along with the text.
“Yes! Come in!”
Not one to argue strange architecture—such as the lack of windows or doors built for luggage in a supposed hotel—Elena yanked on the solid door handle and threw her weight into just getting the old thing opened. Some of those buildings in downtown Chicago predated her grandparents, and Dios mio, they weighed a metric ton. It was all she could do to keep the stupid thing propped open with one foot while she yanked her huge makeup train case over the threshold.
Because broke college students couldn’t afford personal assistants. Not even for a decent-paying gig like this one.
“Elena! Welcome!”
A stunning beauty in killer heels and a tight sequined bodycon dress walked over to her, waving and grinning as if they were best friends. It took Elena several moments to recognize the perfectly styled faux hawk fade of the corporate exec she’d met only a couple of weeks ago at a pop-up cafe.
Literally.
It popped up out of nowhere.
Right where a certain restaurant used to host a certain mesmerizing and intoxicating man who now haunted her dreams.
And who still owed her thirty thousand dollars.
Forget him. She knew finding him would be as fruitless as finding a needle in a haystack, and even then she’d probably find the needle before she ever saw him again. Like the criminal she knew him to be from the start, he disappeared before paying her what he owed in exchange for her help in committing grand larceny.
Was it grand larceny? Or did they call museum heists something else?
She was pretty sure attempting to make a deal with a loan shark was a crime all in itself.
Which is why she wasn’t exactly itching to hunt the man down anytime soon.
“Am I at the right place?” Elena shook off the distracting thoughts and glanced around the carpeted hallway, still not seeing any sign of display tables or corporate execs like the event description mentioned in the emailed flyer. Seka, the pseudo-goddess now leading her by a gentle rub to her arm, grinned and nodded.
“Yup! And right on time, too! Everyone’s upstairs, but I think we’ll have you down here so you don’t get overwhelmed.” She blinked at the heavy case. “I did mention we’re just doing the glitter paint?”
“I like to be prepared.” Elena shrugged it off so the woman wouldn’t see her face flush. “I’ll be fine.”
Seka signaled to someone behind them and nodded at a large geode coffee table in front of a leather couch. The room they stood in looked like some sort of lounge or bathroom area, with a set of doors furthest down the hall and most of the footfalls thudding on the carpet upstairs. “Let’s set you up right here. Vic will keep an eye on the stairs and make sure only those who pay get to come down. Sound good?”
“Sounds perfect.” Elena mustered an easy grin of her own and wheeled her case to the table to unpack. “So, I brought the glitter and hair gel like you asked—”
“We’re going for simple and easy, nothing too complicated. And the more drunk they are, the less you’ll need to worry about painting a Rembrandt on anyone’s shoulder.” Seka winked, watching with a keen eye as Elena pulled out the bowls and brushes. “The whole thing is a starlight and disco theme, so just paint our people with glitter however you see fit. Do you have a tip jar? I can get you one if—”
“Wait.” Elena held a paintbrush up and tried to stifle her laugh. “You mean, you actually want me to paint people? Like, on people?”
A single nod. “With glitter. Yes.”
Elena blinked at the heavy trunk full of supplies she honestly didn’t need. It’s not like Seka had misled her, either; she just automatically assumed that the dollar amount accompanying the text asking if she could paint people at a function meant painting portraits. Not the actual person’s body. “Alright-y then. That’s easy enough.”
In theory, it really was that easy. Just mix glitter in some hair gel and spread it on skin, through hair, wherever, and it’s a sparkling dash of whimsy perfect for a drunken night at the club. She’d seen it done a dozen times all over YouTube videos and social media apps.
By the sudden sound of a thrumming bass line vibrating the ceiling, Elena made the educated guess that’s exactly what this place was—a nightclub simply named something “bespoke” to appeal to a certain Trust Fund Demographic.
“Hey, Seka? I thought you said this was a business event. At a hotel.” And I thought I’d be doing full portraits. Or something not…this.
“It is!” She spread her arms like it was obvious. Then peered at Elena, thought about it, and had the decency to blush. “Oh. I totally forgot. You’re new here, right?”
“I grew up in the outskirts. Not quite the suburbs, yeah.”
Seka waved a hand. “Well, if you’re not into the club scene, you probably wouldn’t know about this place. It used to be a classy hotel back in the day, but now it’s more of a…how should we say…nightclub! Yes.”
Elena didn’t know how she felt about that hesitation. “It’s legit, right?”
“Of course it’s legit.” Her sharp gaze flickered over the artist’s tunic and leggings but pointedly avoided her eyes. “It’s just…full of the privileged, you know? Grown adults with too much of daddy’s money to burn. Which is exactly what we’re counting on,” she quickly added with a mischievous wink.
Immediately, Elena thought of so many more questions to ask her, most of them involving what time she could leave. But before she could squeak a word out, the beefy dude by the stairs poked his head around the banister and signaled to her hostess.
“I gotta go.” Seka rubbed her arm again. It almost felt like she didn’t want to leave Elena alone here. Bless her. “If you need anything, and I mean anything, you let Vic know and then you come get me, okay?”
“Okay.”
“I mean it.” Her gaze grew a bit colder. “These are decent people, but they’ll be drinking. A lot. It’s a special night and things can very quickly get out of control. Anyone lays a hand on you, you have my full permission to kick their ass. I’ll cover it from there.”
Again, Elena really needed to ask her what time she could leave. But Seka dashed up the stairs, and a trio of giggling blondes shuffled into the room, instantly gasping with delight at the sight of Elena mixing up the glitter “paint”. They were sweet and excited and gave all the details about the event, some charity fundraiser to help feed kids in Lithuania and celebrate the middle of summer or something like that. Elena, apparently, was part of the fundraising effort—guests were instructed to “bid” on her services before they were allowed downstairs to the table.
“Can you do a star?”
“Ooohhh! I want a sunbeam on my back!”
“Just do whatever you want to me; I trust you!”
Please, God, let them all be like this. As long as no one stumbled down there drunk and handsy, she might actually get through the night with her sanity intact.
And, judging by the wad of cash they just stuffed into the Mason jar, with pretty good tips.
“Oh my god, Sara, that looks so good!”
Sara grinned, did a little twirl, then posed for her friend’s phone camera. “I know, right?”
It was a far cry from Da Vinci, but Elena had to agree the gold streaks looked amazing on her collarbone with the way her dress slouched off her elegant shoulders. She managed to swirl tendrils over each arch to slope toward her back, a detail her friend quickly captured for their social media.
“Do you do makeup?”
Elena’s smile was practiced and warm, just not excited about the answer. “I can. Mostly special events, bridal, et cetera, but I’m mostly into fine art—”
“Ohmygawd can I have your card?!”
Sara and her friends swarmed the little pile of business cards, immediately scanning the QR code to access the website and scroll through her portfolio. Elena wasn’t sure how much was actually registering with them given the amount of alcohol she could smell on their breaths, but she still felt flattered.
Her phone buzzed in her pocket.
“I just scheduled an appointment for Friday.” Sara beamed and handed her a hundred dollar bill. “You’re amazing, and I love you.”
“Thank you!” Elena didn’t know what else to say. She doubted that the young woman would remember this in the morning. But that’s what confirmation emails were for, right? “I’m looking forward to it!”
“Come on! We gotta go back up there and show this off!” Her photographer friend tugged on her hand. A wicked grin suddenly bloomed across her face. “I dare him to turn you down this time. He’ll be begging to trace those swirls with his tongue.”
Sara faked an embarrassed gasp. “Lacey! Ohmygawd!” Then she flashed her own mischievous smile at Elena. “You got edible paint?”
Lacey and company tugged her up the stairs, liberating a very grateful Elena from that conversation. No, I don’t have edible glitter or edible hair gel (do they even make that?).
And she wasn’t gonna paint some drunk floozy with it even if she did.
Leave me out of those weird hookup games, thanks.
She’d be worried about the group of slightly inebriated dudebros who suddenly stumbled down the stairs if it weren’t for Vic. He seemed like good people. Funny, too. They’d been chatting during the lulls and seemed to share an opinion about those “trust fund kids” Seka was determined to milk for the charity. As he saw it, it’s their parents’ fault for not raising them better.
Or at least well enough to know to never trust a fundraising event with an open bar.
“Heeeeyyyyyy!” The tall guy in the middle pointed at Elena. “Glitter Girl!”
Her new name. She wore it well. “Heeeeyyyy!” She slurred back as a tease. “You wanna bling up?”
“You know it, babe.”
She was a bit thrown off by the word, but Vic’s sharp gaze honed in on the group and narrowed when shirts started unbuttoning. “You know this isn’t that kind of club, right?”
Number One ignored the guard and smirked at their artist. “You want it to be?”
Number Two elbowed him and rolled his eyes. “Cool it, Max. She’s a lady.” He leveled a warm smile at her. “You’ll have to excuse my friend. We’ve been hitting the shots a little heavy.”
“It’s all good,” she reassured them. Because it was, now that hands were up in appropriate surrender and it was clear they just wanted their chests painted. The polite one didn’t even unbutton more than the third down. Dudebro #3 had his opened to the waist but no further, while their leader tugged his all the way out and nearly shrugged it off.
“What!” he snapped at his friends when they tried to tug it back up his arms. “I want her to do my back!”
Number Two rolled his eyes. Then slid a tentative glance toward Elena to see if she felt okay with this. She simply shrugged, giggled, and prayed this would mean a few fifties were gonna grace the tip jar.
“Tell me what you want, boys. Then hold still so I can do it.”
They made plenty of jokes about women in charge being a massive turn-on, but it was still all in good fun. They gave her carte blanche on designs, so she went to work emulating the swirls and tendrils of ancient runes she used to study at the museum on his muscled back. She didn’t know why, but it just felt right. Felt like it fit him.
Someone cleared their throat at the bottom of the stairs. She didn’t bother looking up until she felt all three of her rapt customers suddenly tense.
“Having fun?”
The voice rolled through her like the waves on the lakeshore.
Cool. Refreshing.
Disturbingly familiar.
“Had to see what all the fuss was about,” Number Three quickly explained. He’d been the quietest of the group up until this point. “She’s good. Really good. Talented.”
Number Two stepped aside to let the newcomer into their corner. Elena sucked in a sharp breath and prayed no one heard her, least of all him.
Of all the places.
Of all the freaking places!
She couldn’t resist stealing a quick peek up at him. Just to make sure it was really, truly him.
It was.
His own stare felt cold as they gave her a once-over, then shifted to her artwork on Number One’s back. “You did this?”
“Yeah.” Her tongue felt thick. She tried to swallow. And breathe. Pull yourself together! “I study art, remember? And…stuff.”
Just in case he forgot.
Like he forgot to pay her.
Or call her.
Or let her know he planned on vanishing into thin air and literally ghosting her within hours of stealing that same air from her lungs.
He scoffed. “And stuff.” He regarded the design with an almost appreciative expression, the corner of his full mouth curving upward just the slightest. “Not bad.”
“Thanks.”
A brief silent moment passed, then suddenly Number Three quickly buttoned up his shirt while Number Two sighed. “As you wish.”
She glanced between them, thoroughly confused. They stuffed hundred dollar bills into her tip jar and avoided her gaze, quickly making their way back upstairs while he lingered behind.
What the hell was that?
He didn’t say anything, but they just acted as if he’d barked an order.
And yet, from the short time she’d gotten to know him…it made a weird sort of sense.
“When was your last break?” He suddenly asks Vic without turning around.
The guard rolled a shoulder in a half-shrug. “Haven’t had one yet.”
“Why don’t you go take one now? I’ve got this.”
Something hot and heavy coils in the pit of my stomach. Elena should have been scared of him, of what he was suggesting. What he implied. Didn’t Seka warn her about this exact situation?
But to her surprise, Vic simply nodded and hopped up the stairs. “I won’t be long.”
“Take your time.”
Elena’s mouth tasted completely dry now. If her brain could come up with some sort of protest, or verbal boundary, she didn’t know if she’d be able to get the words out.
You.
You can go…go jump off a pier…and…
Especially not when he started unbuttoning his shirt.
Those silver eyes locked on her.
“Now, my glitter goddess.” Cade Devoy smirked and tugged the lapels to the side, exposing his solid chest covered in those swirling silvery tattoos that danced in her memories. His voice rumbled low. Sultry.
The kind of voice meant for empty promises made in dark bedrooms and even darker dreams.
“Paint me like one of your French girls.”
This episode of Sinners & Starlight may be over, but the story has only begun.
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