Free Heat by Jamie K. Schmidt Page A

spins.

Chapter Seven
    Anya knocked on the door at seven a.m.
    “Don’t hate me,” she said. She held up a large coffee and a handful of creamer cups and sugar packets.
    Mallory staggered back to the bed and sat down.
    “Max said you wanted to go to his nine a.m. class.”
    Mallory tried to get words out, but all she could do was stare at Anya. It just wasn’t fair that someone was so pretty so early in the morning. She had on snakeskin pants, a matching belt around a black silk shirt, and boots that Mallory would kill for.
    “You look like you could use a shower. If you want, I can put together an outfit for you. If that’s not a little creepy, having a stranger go through your things. It’s what I do. I’m the Queen of Accessories.” She gave a hesitant smile.
    Mallory tried to give her one back, but it hurt too much.
    “I’ll just go,” Anya said and put the coffee down on the night table.
    “Wait,” Mallory croaked. “I’m sorry. I’m so hung over.”
    “It’s okay. We’ll talk later.”
    “Thanks for the coffee.”
    Anya waved as she closed the door.
    “I liked your slippers,” Mallory said to the room. She had to work on her timing.
    A long shower and the coffee helped. Mallory felt like a human being again. She grabbed a pair of sweats and a T-shirt and went out into the hallway, hoping to remember which door was Anya’s.
    The first few doors no one answered. One really irate man slammed the door in her face. She couldn’t blame him. Finally, Anya opened the door.
    “Hey, sorry for before.” Mallory pushed a hand through her hair, self-consciously.
    “No worries—come on in.” Anya paused after closing the door. “You’re not wearing
that
, are you?”
    “What?” Mallory looked down. “I’m going to a self-defense class.”
    Anya tilted her head. “Yeah, but you’re wearing gray and white. It washes you out.”
    “I don’t really have exercise clothes.”
    “Well, good thing for you, I’ve got the key to the sample room. Come on, girlfriend—we’re going to deck you out in some bling.”
    “I’m not really the bling type,” Mallory protested, but she allowed Anya to lead the way. She took her down several corridors and they were in the conference section. People dressed to kill were milling around, and Mallory couldn’t help feeling a little shabby.
    “This way.” Anya unlocked two doors and led her into a cavern of a room.
    “Oh my Gucci!” Mallory said. She hadn’t seen this many name brands since the outlet store had a sale.
    “You’re a size ten, right?”
    Mallory tugged on the waistband of her pants. “On a good day.”
    “Let’s try the twelves—these tend to run small.” Anya tossed her a gorgeous peacock-blue tank top and matching pants, with emerald-green racing stripes up the legs.
    “These are colorful.”
    “The tank won’t ride up your tummy and the fabric will wick sweat away from your body.” She was sorting through sunglasses that had rhinestones on them.
    Mallory chucked off her boring clothes and put on the lush fabric. “Oh man, I’m going to be spoiled. I don’t even want to know how much these cost.”
    “For our guests, we rent them out. The designers donate a bunch of stuff so they can get some new business.”
    “Who designed this?” Mallory found a three-way mirror and turned around to check out that her rear wasn’t enormous.
    “It’s actually a prototype. One of our instructors is working on his own line.” Anya handed her a pair of Yves Saint Laurent sunglasses.
    “I like it.” Mallory turned so the rhinestones flashed in the lights. “I feel like Cinderella.”
    “I always wanted to be a fairy godmother.”
    “You are awesome.” Mallory hugged her. “Can I buy you lunch? I want to know why you look so familiar to me.”
    Anya went over to a stack of catalogs and pulled out one. She handed it to Mallory.
    “You’re famous!” Mallory said, pointing to a photo of Anya, who was wearing a burgundy