The kitchen didn’t look as though it was used for much more than brewing coffee, which made his rooftop garden even more of an indulgence. “From what I observed…” she said, “… and remember I was at Spiral to keep an eye on you, not your staff… Your pal Keith might have had a side deal going with a couple of the servers. Claiming a drink had been returned when it hadn’t, then voiding the sale and pocketing the money. That kind of thing.”
“Which servers?”
She wasn’t throwing anyone under the bus without evidence. “That’s what you’re hiring me to find out.”
Heath Champion came in from the garden carrying a grocery bag with green carrot fronds sticking out of the top. “You’re the only guy I know who’s growing brussels sprouts. Tomatoes I understand. Jalapeños, sure. But brussels sprouts?”
“Deal with it.”
She’d forgotten to turn off her cell, and it blared out the theme from Buffy the Vampire Slayer.
Graham arched an eyebrow at her. “Very professional.”
She grabbed the cell from her messenger bag. The call was from Officer Eric. She turned off the ringer and reached back inside. “I have an agency contract…”
Graham tilted his head toward his agent. “Give it to him while I put some clothes on.” He headed toward the stairs, and for the barest moment she imagined standing under those open metal stair treads and looking up. She thrust the folder toward Champion.
He set down his garden produce and took it from her. She watched nervously as he studied the contract. Even though she’d resisted the urge to inflate her flat rate, he might still think she was too expensive.
Champion pulled a pen from his shirt pocket and clicked it. “He can afford a little more than you’re charging.”
She tried to absorb that. “Aren’t you supposed to be protecting his best interests?”
Champion smiled, but didn’t respond.
Graham appeared a few minutes later dressed in jeans and a chest-hugging Stars T-shirt that did an exceptional job of displaying his remarkable shoulders. His agent handed him the contract. Graham studied it, raised an eyebrow at Champion, then looked at her. “Knock off five hundred,” he said, “and you can have the apartment over the club instead of moving into that shitty basement apartment you mentioned.”
“Cheap bastard,” his agent said cheerfully.
“There’s an apartment over the club?” Piper said.
“Two of them,” Graham replied. “One’s occupied, but the other’s free. It’s noisy when the club’s open, but you can always buy earplugs.”
“She’ll knock off three hundred,” Champion said. “That’s as low as she goes.”
Which put her right back where she’d begun, except she’d have a place to stay.
Graham squinted at his agent. “Remind me again why you’re still working for me?”
“Because you need a conscience.”
Graham didn’t seem to take offense. Instead he turned his attention back to Piper. “Move in whenever you like, but I need you on duty tonight.” He pulled a set of keys from a kitchen drawer and tossed them over. “I’ll introduce you at the staff meeting. Eight o’clock sharp.”
She had a job, and she had an apartment that wasn’t in her cousin’s basement. As she gathered up the contract, she wanted to kiss Heath Champion. But there was one more thing.
She gazed at a spot right between Graham’s dark eyebrows. “This means you’re not still suing me, right?”
She didn’t like the quick flash of his crocodile’s teeth. “I’ll get back to you on that.”
“There’s something I’m missing here,” Heath said as the elevator doors shut behind Piper Dove.
Coop investigated the contents of Heath’s produce bag with more concentration than it warranted. “What do you mean?”
“Why did you offer her that apartment?”
“The closer I keep her to the club, the more bang I get for my buck.”
Heath retrieved his bag. “I hope your buck is the only thing you’re thinking about banging. That woman is not one of your actresses.”
“I’ve noticed. Besides, as you may have observed, I’m not too fond of her.”
“I got that.”
“And she flat-out despises me.”
“Definitely not one of your fans.”
“But the thing is, the woman’s got guts and integrity.”
“She’s got more than that. Great eyes, an interesting face, and a very nice pair of legs.”
“Not interested.”
“No entourage?”
Coop was damned if he’d let Heath land any more digs about either his ex-girlfriends or Piper Dove. “Get the hell out of here and go see your wife.”
“I’m on my way.”
With Heath gone, Coop wandered through the kitchen into his garden, his favorite place on earth. He’d always liked growing things, and he hadn’t seen why living in a city should change that. His big, multileveled wraparound terrace had brick walls high enough to protect the garden from the wind, making this an ideal growing place. He’d built the raised beds himself-hauling up every bag of dirt, every plant, and every pot.
During the football season, the green, earthy smells had taken his mind off the pain of his injuries. Whether he was amending the soil, deadheading flowers, or harvesting the vegetables he gave to the food pantry, out here he hadn’t been able to hear the clash of helmets, the grunts of hard hits, the roar of the crowd that swept over the field like a rogue wave. Out here, he’d been able to forget the adrenaline rush of being in control of the whole savage ballet that made up an NFL game.
Now that he was no longer playing, he came out here to get away from himself-away from the constant churning in his head as he thought about the future. But today the peace of his garden wasn’t working. A week had passed since his last meeting with Deidre Joss, and he hadn’t heard a word. She’d said a decision would take time, but he wasn’t good at waiting. In another few months, Spiral would break even, and he’d be ready to move on to the next phase of his new career-building a franchise of nightclubs around other big-name athletes who were too busy or not smart enough to set out on their own.
Piper Dove’s appearance had been a welcome distraction, even though she rubbed him wrong in a dozen different directions. But she interested him, too. Despite the Esmerelda charade, there was a raw honesty about her that would serve him well, and he looked forward to seeing how she would reconcile her obvious dislike of him with the fact that she needed his business.
Unfortunately for her, his intrinsic politeness toward women seemed to vanish when she was around. Equally unfortunate, the day-to-day operations of a single nightclub had begun to bore him. He could use a diversion, and Piper Dove just might be it.
Later that afternoon, Piper slipped the key Graham had given her into the metal door that opened off the alley behind Spiral. The small hallway had battleship-gray walls and smelled like French fries, but the floor had been swept clean. A door at the end appeared to lead to the club’s service areas, while the staircase on her right led upstairs.
As she began the climb to the third floor, she was glad she didn’t have much to haul. She reached the top and stepped onto the landing.
It happened fast.
A shadowy figure jumped out… A gun pointed right at her head… A sting to her temple…
“You’re dead!”
5
Piper reacted instinctively. She grabbed the arm of her assailant, kicked out her leg, and brought him down with a loud thud. Only as she heard the woof of pain did she realize the voice that had declared her dead had come from a female instead of a male.