“Okay.” She let go of the breath she’d been holding. She really couldn’t afford the chunk of cash a new system would eat up. Well, technically she could because she had the Angels gig, but she needed that money for the down payment on the building where Madame R was housed. Phil, her weasel of a landlord, made muttering noises about selling every so often and Raina was determined to have a shot at buying it herself. The club was starting to do steady business, so she could just about squeak the loan if she had a good solid down payment.
“So tell me about the guy at the bar,” Brady said in her ear.
“What guy?” Raina said.
“Mr. Tall Dark and Hot,” Brady said.
For a moment she genuinely drew a blank—money woes apparently having chased thoughts of Malachi Coulter from her head—but then she remembered. “I hope Luis can’t hear you.”
“He can. He thought your bar guy was hot, too.”
“He’s not my bar guy.”
“You were very chatty with him. You had that flirty look.”
“I did not have a flirty look,” Raina denied.
“Sweetheart, I know your flirty look. You had it. So, give. Who is he?”
“Can’t I take the Fifth?”
“There’s no taking the Fifth with your best friend,” Brady said. “I’ll just nag you into confessing.”
He would, too. Dogged pursuit of a goal was an attribute that Brady shared with Wash. “His name is Malachi Coulter,” Raina said.
“That’s the baseball guy?” Brady said, sounding startled.
“Yes. I’m surprised you didn’t know that already.”
“I’m a Yankees fan. I don’t pay attention to what those upstart Saints do.”
“The Saints have been around just as long as the Yankees.”
“Yeah, out on that island. That’s not really New York.”
“Says the boy who roots for the Yankees even though he was born and raised in New Jersey.”
“Having said that, if all the Saints’ management look like him, I could be persuaded to change my allegiance,” Brady said with a laugh.
“Alex Winters is the really pretty one.”
“Blond is not my thing.”
“You’re only saying that because Luis can hear you,” Raina said. Though Luis had, in the time she’d known him, had hair pretty much every color of the rainbow, he had currently reverted to his natural deep brown.
“Nope, I don’t think I’ve even ever dated a blond,” Brady said. “But stop changing the subject. We were discussing you, Malachi Coulter, and the flirty look.”
“Correction. You were attempting to discuss that. I was telling you there was nothing to discuss.”
“Methinks the lady doth protest too much.”
“Methinks you should remember that the lady has decided guys like that are not her thing anymore.”
“Hmmm, rich, handsome, rides a hot motorcycle, owns a baseball team, it doesn’t sound too terrible.”
“Rich and handsome are fine,” Raina said. “Rich and handsome would be good without the motorcycle. The motorcycle says bad boy.” She paused a moment. “How do you know he rides a motorcycle?” She hated herself for asking. She’d sworn off motorcycles, too. Because of the guys that usually came attached to them.
“We checked out the security tape of him leaving. Gorgeous big black thing it was.”