Free Burning Offer (Trevor's Harem #1) by Aubrey Parker

I wear them, I’ll say no, yada yada, I’ll end up doing it anyway, after my self-respect is knocked down another notch.
    Surprisingly — or not surprisingly at all — there’s a small makeup bag in with the shoes and earrings. I skip my usual kit for the same reasons and apply the pale pink lipstick, mascara, and light eyeliner. I pull my hair back into a ponytail but fluff my bangs out, parted in the middle. I give myself a once-over in the mirror before heading out, deciding I look sufficiently cute. I try telling myself I’m only putting in this effort about my dress and appearance to avoid a fight. It has nothing to do with another girl being on board and my feeling competitive. It has nothing to do with the feeling that she looks a lot prettier than I do. I definitely don’t feel relieved that I’m at least taller, and men seem to think my voice is sexy.  
    When I emerge from the lavatory, I take the plane in anew. It’s tiny compared to the jets I’m used to, but the opulence more than makes up for it. There’s plush carpet that’s soft under my toes. The windows have shades like a home, albeit subtly anchored for travel. The seats are large and soft, made of tan leather, and rather than being arranged in cramped rows, they’re spaced out and turned every which way. There’s a couch with small red pillows in a horseshoe along one wall farther up, near the cabin. I can see Daniel up there, talking to the pilot through an open door. He’s removed his blazer, and I can see his broad back muscles beneath the stretched fabric of his pressed dress shirt. The tattoo, I hadn’t noticed before, seems to run around his back as well. I can see its spikes poking over his collar, climbing a strong neck.  
    But Erin is much closer to me, not far from the bathroom. Sitting in one of the big seats, her posture slightly curled up, clearly nervous. The chair’s enormity makes her look tiny in her little blue dress.
    “Hey,” I say.
    Erin looks up at me. Her deep blue eyes are ringed in dark liner. I don’t know why, but I immediately find myself drawing comparisons between us, judging myself by her high standard and wondering if she’s doing the same, or if maybe I’m the weird one. There seems to be just five people on the plane: me, Erin, Daniel, the pilot, and the flight attendant. Maybe a co-pilot I haven’t seen; I don’t know. But we’re the only passengers: Erin, Daniel, and I. Two girls and one hot guy. I can’t stop doing that math, and feeling uneasy.  
    “Oh. Hi.”  
    I sit. She smiles at me then looks back out the window. Not because she cares what’s out there. More because neither of us seems to know how to react to … to whatever this is. There’s no social precedent. We’re on virgin ground, conversationally speaking.  
    “So how did he nab you?” I say it playfully, but my undertones are serious. I wasn’t nabbed, but I didn’t precisely come willingly.  
    “Daniel?”  
    “Yeah.”  
    She peeks forward to see if he’s within earshot. I don’t think he is. I think we’re alone.  
    “I got an invitation.”  
    “Me too,” I tell her. “To the Castleview?”
    She looks at me funny.  
    “The hotel?”  
    “It was The Four Seasons. In Chicago.”  
    “You’re not from Inferno Falls?”  
    “Chicago,” she repeats.
    I take a moment to process that. There’s nothing particularly strange about Erin having come from Chicago. We’re in a private plane, after all, and we can go just about anywhere in a matter of hours. I’ve been assuming we’re flying directly to the estate I saw on Daniel’s tablet. I never considered the possibility that Inferno was but one stop of many, that we might be headed to New York or Denver or Seattle next. In that city, someone else will be the interviewee. Someone else will be the Bridget, run through the same paces. This time, I’ll be the Erin, who I’m beginning to think might have been hanging out on the plane all day,