Book Club Confidential

Chapter One

She didn’t have time to explore, though.

She was late for her book club. Originally called Ten Babes in a Bar, the group was down to its last three members.

They’d met weekly during their college years at the University of Virginia.

Usually at a different restaurant or bar.

Always to discuss books and boys. These days, however, everyone except Tessa, Kate, and Hallie had moved away, founded companies, gotten married, started families, or some combination of the above.

Three Babes in a Bar just sounded sad, so they’d changed the name to Main Character Energy when they’d all turned thirty, several years back.

Now they read whatever they wanted and discussed their choices at much nicer, quieter venues.

Tessa frowned at her reflection in the shiny elevator doors. She finger combed her messy light-brown hair and pushed stray strands behind her ears. There wasn’t anything to be done about her fully wrinkled office wear, crumpled after ten hours hunched over a desk.

She startled at the sharp ding and jostling halt when she reached the twenty-first floor. The metallic doors parted, and she hurried out.

Her best friend Kate spun to face her as she emerged. “Finally.”

“Sorry,” Tessa pleaded. “I got caught up—”

“At work,” she said. “We know.” Kate crossed her arms over a cobalt-colored top that brightened her pretty blue eyes. A pair of tan linen pants and loafers completed the look of comfort and elegance. Kate’s signature style.

Tessa forced herself not to look down at her outfit again. When had she stopped dressing up before going out? Oh, yes, she thought dryly, when the corporate job I worked so hard for officially took over my life.

“You were supposed to meet us downstairs twenty minutes ago,” Kate said. Her sweet Southern drawl held an edge of menace.

Tessa frowned, certain she was barely more than fifteen minutes late.

“That was the plan. I—” She glanced at the large grandfather clock in the corner of the wide hallway, which appeared to be more of a vestibule with no other means of entrance or exit.

The clock wasn’t working, but she was inarguably late.

“Where’s Hallie?” she asked, desperate to change the subject.

“Trying to find a way in,” Hallie said, voice muffled.

Tessa turned in search of the sound. Matte-black wallpaper covered the walls where oil paintings of rabbits wearing velvet jackets and foxes in newsboy hats hung in heavy gilded frames. Tessa found the series of deer wearing dresses and pushing squirrel babies in strollers especially unsettling.

An assortment of small mirrors, large golden keys, and mounted heads of smiling fish and pheasants hung between the artwork.

Tessa wasn’t a fan of anything she saw.

Kate moved back into view and lowered her long dark lashes over sharp blue eyes. “I thought you were going to stop working so much overtime.”

Tessa pursed her lips, forcing herself not to make a big deal out of it. This wasn’t the way she wanted to start book club. “I am, but this is a big account. Besides, I’m here now. Trapped in this weird little hallway with you. I didn’t miss anything.”

“True, but all those extra hours are wearing you out and making you resent a job you love,” Kate said. “I hate that for you.”

Tessa looked away, appreciating her friend’s concern but unwilling to argue. Sometimes life simply was what it was, and it didn’t matter what she wanted. “I’m sorry,” Tessa repeated. “Truly. I didn’t mean to make you wait.” She stilled as the words left her mouth. “Where is Hallie?”

“Here,” Hallie said, voice muffled once more.

Tessa followed the sound to a five-foot lump in the thick velvet curtain beside the broken clock. A moment later, Hallie slipped into view.

Her straight brown hair was mussed with static, and her stomach growled.

She wore fitted black capris and a button-up shirt that emphasized her athletic figure.

Her ancient, battered, and doodled-upon Converse were an ever-present middle finger to anyone of the opinion that grown women should dress any specific way.

“All that’s behind the curtain is a metal door with an exit sign.

And Kate’s right about your job. Eighty-hour weeks should be illegal. ”

Tessa frowned, unsure why Hallie had been fooling around behind the curtain. “Well,” she said. “Hopefully, after tomorrow night, I can assign my extra hours to someone newer on my team. Until then, I like to think of the added blood, sweat, and tears as an investment in my future with the company.”

Hallie and Kate exchanged a look.

“I promise,” Tessa said. “I’m the hardest-working person in my office, aside from Xavier himself. He comes to me for input on everything now. He relies on me to troubleshoot and prepare for things he hasn’t even thought could go wrong, and I make a mean espresso.”

“Fine,” Kate said. “Tomorrow night, you get promoted, and someone else can explain to their friends why they barely leave the office.”

“Exactly,” Tessa agreed. “And all my late nights and long weekends will be worth it.”

Hallie smoothed her dark hair back into its usual dramatic chin-length bob as she turned back to the wall.

“Well, right now, I’m starving,” she said.

“And I’m pretty sure that if we don’t get into this restaurant before the next group arrives, we lose our reservation.

” She shook a fist at the wall. “I want to eat here tonight.”

Tessa looked from Hallie to Kate, then around the quiet hallway. She’d nearly forgotten that Fox and Hound was some sort of modern-day speakeasy.

So this weird hallway space was likely a holding area with a secret entrance hidden somewhere.

“Any ideas?” Hallie asked. “Because we’re stuck here until we figure out how to get inside.”

“Feels more like an escape room than a speakeasy,” Tessa said.

“I guess,” Hallie agreed, attempting to turn one of the fish heads. “Except we’re trying to get in, not out.”

An elaborate geometric fixture overhead cast light against the golden pinstripes on the wallpaper between frames and illuminated the bizarre wildlife.

“The decor is giving me the creeps,” Tessa said.

“I think it’s whimsical,” Kate argued.

Distant music and soft chatter filtered through the walls. The sounds of people enjoying a lovely time.

Tess tugged gently on a frame. “You’ve been looking for twenty minutes?”

“No, maybe five,” Hallie said. “We were waiting for you.”

Kate moved forward and pushed on the fox dressed as a paperboy. “When I made the reservation, they told me all members of the party had to be present to be seated. Hallie got bored at about a quarter after and decided to get a jump on things.”

Hallie pointed to the largest framed painting, at least six feet of canvas and another two feet of frame on all sides, including the top and bottom. “That big bunny in a blue dress has to be the official entrance. Nothing else here is large enough to cover a door.”

Tessa moved to the image in question and tugged. The right edge of the wide golden frame had a cleverly masked depression, like a keyhole, blended seamlessly into the ornately carved wood. Tessa straightened in search of a key. “How’s the food here?” she asked Hallie.

Kate smiled. “I picked this place because rumor has it that the annual Influencers Ball will be held here.” Her eyes flashed with excitement. “You want that promotion,” she told Tessa. “I want an invite to this ball.”

Tessa might’ve worked long hours at the town’s biggest advertising firm, but Kate was never truly off the clock.

The pressure of being a social media influencer and ambassador to multiple brands was more than Tessa could get her mind around.

Unfortunately, in Kate’s line of work, the target for success was always on the move.

And controlled by the online masses. At least advertising and marketing was a steady and constant business.

Challenging without being completely outside Tessa’s control.

“I’m sure your invitation is already in the mail,” Tessa said. “In case you’ve forgotten, you are adored.”

Hallie tried the last of the ornamental keys in the lock, then returned it with a groan. “Oh my God. I’m going to die of starvation. They can use my corpse as a warning to others.”

Tessa crossed the crimson carpet to the grandfather clock and removed the key from its door. She returned to the big bunny painting and fit it neatly into the hole. The moment she pressed the metal into the void, a latch released, and the door swung open.

Kate clapped softly, and Hallie quickly led them inside.

“Welcome to Fox and Hound,” a woman said. She wore a long clingy gray dress and a mischievous smile. “You had seven o’clock reservations for Bellefontaine, party of three?”

Kate dipped her chin demurely. “Yes, thank you.”

“Perfect. Mona will see you to your table, and I’ll return that to the clock.” The woman extended a palm toward Tessa, who placed the key in her hand.

A staff member in a fitted black pantsuit and heels moved into view, towering over them, three menus tucked under one arm. The name tag on their sculpted chest identified them as Mona. “Right this way.”

They followed Mona through a crowded dining room, marveling at the luxurious atmosphere.

Gazes lingered on Kate, as they often did, and she smiled confidently, as if it was normal to draw so much attention.

Tessa supposed that for Kate, it was.

When Mona reached the rear wall of windows, they opened a door and escorted the ladies outside. Warm wind rushed over them, and Tessa noted the breathtaking hues of the sunset. Big pink cotton candy clouds hovered in an apricot sky close enough to touch.

“The Winthrop is the oldest building in Harbor Heights still in its original form,” Mona said. “The interior art deco styling is all original. The art in the foyer is available for sale online and changes seasonally. And your first drinks are on the house, courtesy of our boss.”

“Impressive,” Hallie said. “We just got here.”