Page 56 of Lawless in Leather

“Well then, happy birthday,” Raina said. “Drinks are on me.”

Maggie started to protest and Raina cut her off. “No arguments. How about you introduce me to your friends instead?”

Maggie turned back to the table. “Sure. You know Sara, right?”

Raina nodded.

“Well, this is Hana Tuckerson—she’s Brett’s wife.” Maggie was nodding at a slender woman who had chin-length black hair and dark eyes. Raina tried to remember if she’d learned anything about Hana in her time studying the Saints. Brett’s wife. Right. Now she remembered. “You’re the tae kwan do champ. Very cool.”

“I’m retired,” Hana said. “These days I save my roundhouse for special occasions. Like when Brett annoys me.” She grinned at Raina and lifted one of the pink drinks. “Nice to meet you. You do good cocktails.”

Raina laughed. “Those have a kick to them. Fair warning.”

“Hana can drink the rest of us under the table,” Maggie said. “It’s not fair.”

Hana snorted. “You need more training. You spend too many early nights tucked up with Alex.”

“Well, do you blame her?” said the other woman at the table. She was a cool-looking blonde, her long hair spilling down past her shoulder blades, looking very pale over a severe black dress that seemed conservative until she moved and Raina realized that the front was slashed almost down to her navel.

“Hi, I’m Shelly Finch,” the blonde said, holding out her hand with a friendly smile.

“Shelly’s an entertainment reporter,” Maggie said. “She can give you a great write-up.”

“She’s also engaged to Hector,” Sara added helpfully. “They’re getting married as soon as the season’s over. In Hawaii.”

“Sounds fantastic,” Raina said. Hector Moreno was the team’s catcher, she knew that much. It made sense that Maggie’s best friends were all involved in baseball. After all, hers were all dancers.

“I insisted on it being somewhere warm,” Shelley said. “If I have to work around his ridiculous baseball schedule, then he can pony up for a tropical location. I didn’t want to have to wear a fur wedding dress, and New York in November is kind of dismal.”

Raina grinned approvingly. “My kind of thinking. I’ve never liked the cold. If I’m ever old and rich I’d like to live somewhere that’s warm all the time. It’ll be easier on my worn-out old bones.”

“Tell me about it,” Hana said. “I have a few places where I had fractures during my career and they ache half the winter. Must be worse for dancers. That stuff is hard on the body.”

“I like the cold,” Maggie said. “Maybe because I associate it with free time. No baseball. It’s when all the fun things happened when I grew up. And Dad was home most of the time. Not that baseball isn’t fun,” she added.

“Baseball is fine by me,” Raina said. “We’ve had a lot of interest in the club since yesterday.”

“I thought the Angels’ routine was great,” Sara said. “Those wings were amazing.”

“Those were Brady’s idea. He’s does a lot of the design work here. Makes most of my costumes.”

Shelly was eyeing her dress with a speculative expression. “If he made that dress then he’s missed his calling. He should have been a fashion designer.”

“He has the dance bug,” Raina said. “It’s kind of incurable.” She caught sight of Brady out of the corner of an eye. He tapped his watch, meaning she had about two minutes before they were supposed to start again. “Now, excuse me, I have to get back to work. Happy birthday again, Maggie.”

She made her getaway and got backstage before Brady’s head exploded.

She reapplied her lipstick, changed her earrings to a pair made from jet that didn’t weigh half a ton, and smiled at him. “Don’t panic, I hear the boss here is pretty relaxed about starting on time.”

“That’s because she’s the one who is making us late,” Brady said. “Who were you talking to out there?”

“The tall brunette is Maggie Jameson,” Raina said. “You know, her dad used to own the Saints.”

“Yes, I know who Maggie Jameson is,” Brady said. “Baseball fan, remember?”

“Well, that’s her. It was her birthday last week, so make sure the bar guys know to comp their table. They’re drinking killer cosmos so they’re going to hate themselves in the morning. No big credit card bill will ease some of the pain. See if the kitchen can rustle up some cupcakes or something.” Paolo usually made sure there was something in the tiny cool room that could be used if any of the customers with a reserved table sprang an “It’s my birthday” surprise without organizing their own cake. “The usual. Glynna can sing her Happy Birthday number.”

Brady nodded. “Got it.” He smoothed his hand over her hair, tweaking how it lay. “Okay. Perfect. Out you go.”

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