Page 117 of Snap Shot

“Does that mean you're not coming to my game?”

“In Montreal?” She pushes her legs and slides her arms through a black dress that appears out of nowhere, then points to the zipper. “Help a girl out, Radek.”

“You packed this?” I smooth a hand down her back after zipping up, then glide it across her stomach from behind, holding her perky ass to my crotch.

She captures my gaze in the full-length mirror propped against the wall.

A naughty grin tugs at my lips. “Indira Davé! Did you plan for—?”

“Calmdown,” she replies, fluffing her hair. “I keep extra clothes in my gym bag because I'm a loser who sleeps at work sometimes.”

I shush her, spinning her around to face me. “Not a loser but listen: Come to my game.” My hand squeezes her waist twice. “Watch me play.”

“I don't know,” she intones. “It might look suspect.”

“No, it won't. Please?” I give her my best puppy dog eyes.

“We'll see.”

That means no.

Indi pats my wrist and tugs my arm away, doubling over to dig out red-soled heels from a cloth bag inside her duffel. As she gathers her things, I follow behind like she'll vanish into thin air if I don't keep her in my sight. Keys jingling in hand, she waves me off from the open elevator.

“Hey, Indi?” My hand stops the door the moment before it closes.

“Yeah?” One last shot.

“You looked fuckingincrediblein my jersey.”

Indi flushes immediately.

“Wear it to the game and I promise we’ll win.”

Chapter 32: Very Emergent, Very Confidential

Indi

I mute the phone, propping the receiver between an ear and my shoulder to beckon my secretary through the door.

“Bea, write this down.”

The button unmutes when pressed again.

“Marshall Langley.”

She jots down the number I repeat to confirm with the young man on the other end of the line. Thank God for clueless interns.

“Appreciate all your help, Grant.”

Bea gives me a thumbs up.

“Sorry to cut this short, but I've got a client waiting. Thanks again!”

She high-fives me the minute I hang up. “What does it mean?”

I recline in my chair and strum my steepled fingers like an evil mastermind. “I won't know for sure until I talk to Langley, but I'm fairly certain he was paid to take those pictures.”

Behraz lifts both of her brows. “You think Pall's behind it?”

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