Page 14 of Vegas Baby

“Let’s get these suitcases in the car and get on the road.”

She stood and tossed her purse into the car. He hauled the suitcase back into the trunk. They had another forty minutes of drive-time to go, but already it felt like forever. He was hot, sticky and he wanted a shower, a cold drink, and air conditioning.

Howler climbed back into the car and turned the key, revving the engine, he cranked up the air. A blast of heat pushed from the vents before cool air followed. Heaven.

Raina pulled the top of her bodice away from her chest and leaned into the coolness, giving him an unfettered view of the swell of her breasts beneath it. “Oh, that feels so good.”

And with a flash of her tits, she’d turned heaven into a different kind of hell. He swallowed and adjusted the flow on his side of the car. Yes, the air felt good and, in his mind, it couldn’t be cold enough given the heat she incited by her innocent action.

“You have dirt on your forehead,” she said, handing him another cloth. “And please refrain from trying to kill us this time.”

“Shit, married a day and you’re already nagging me. Although technically it’s been two days.” Two long, exhausting days. Every second around Raina mentally challenged him. She’d asked some hard-hitting questions, painful ones he’d long kept buried and he didn’t like digging them up. He pulled down the visor and wiped his forehead, ready to change the subject away from his past. “So, when do I get to ask the questions?”

“Fire away. But before you do, my favorite color is—”

“Purple,” he said, shifting into first and pulling back onto the road.

She took the dirty wipe from him and tucked it into the small garbage bag. “Why would you say that?”

“You use purple sticky notes on the contracts.” He’d dealt almost exclusively with male attorneys, boring old men with no personality. Raina broke the mold. She’d challenged him from day one, something he respected, but would never confess to lest she use it against him in future negotiations.

“Oh, yeah, I guess I do. Yes, I do like purple but my favorite color is red.”

“Not fire engine red, or fire hydrant red, or police siren red?”

“I like all three shades. My birthday is September twenty-first. Miller is my biological father although I don’t count him as being my dad. My mom’s real name is Mary but she calls herself by her stripper name, Brandi,” she said, in a deadpan voice.

He laughed at the dry delivery, shaking his head at her joke.

“I’m not kidding. She was a stripper when she got pregnant and was Miller’s mistress for ten years until he lost interest in her. She lives in Everett with husband number four. Which gives her one more ex than Miller.”

Her mother was a stripper. Never in a million years would he ever guess Raina came from such a screwed-up background. He’d taken her for a suburbanite with a two-parent household. Apparently, he was way off in his assessment. “Probably shouldn’t lead with the stripper thing when we meet Patel.”

“No, probably not. Brandi keeps marrying older men and was widowed twice. Miller marries younger and is plain stupid when it comes to women. I’m sure you read about his exploits in the tabloids.”

“That he has a mistress in every port the Pioneer docks in?” Miller was filthy rich and flaunted it. He was also a real dick. Different than his father but hauntingly the same in many ways. Men like Miller fueled Howler’s desire to take every concession he could on behalf of his talent. He’d learned a long time ago success hinged more on what you could give than what you could keep for yourself. Yes, he liked fast cars and beautiful things but deep down, he could care less for material items. He liked the thrill of cementing a deal, of taking from arrogant assholes like Miller and helping some kid gain a future in the sport he or she loved.

“Yes, I’d like to say they’re highly exaggerated but they’re not. He screws around. A lot. He has six kids from his wives and who knows how many from his mistresses. I know of two beside me. He’s the king of the non-disclosure and most of his mistresses fear losing their hush money. It’s sad, really. But they made their proverbial beds.” As she recited the facts, her voice becoming cooler until she snapped the last bit out.

There was no love lost between her and Miller, he would bet his business on that. Who could blame her. The man’s love for the NDA extended past his sex life. He included one in all renewal contracts to stop the player from talking about negotiations. Most players were so happy to be on the team, they didn’t think anything of signing it. Until years later; then Miller played with them like a cat with a tasty mouse. Howler learned after the mistake he’d made with Sam not to allow his talent to sign. Everybody had a right to have their voices heard, especially when it affected their lives. “I can see why it pisses you off.”

“It infuriates me to no end. Except Brandi was pretty practical about it all and said she knew what she signed up for. Of course, she was pre-NDA Miller and pretty much named her own terms.” She shrugged and ran her hand to the back of her neck, massaging the muscles beneath her ear. “Do you think Patel will judge me because I work for Miller? He doesn’t know I’m his daughter, not many people do and I’d appreciate if you kept it between us. I don’t want word getting out I’m on the job through nepotism. Although technically I am, I suppose.”

“If you despise him so much, why do you work for him?”

“I don’t despise him,” she said, her noticeable agitation giving her away.

Should he press her further? No. Her relationship with Miller was none of his affair. He had his own demons to wrestle. Hell, his mother died of a drug overdose and his dad was doing life in prison. He wasn’t exactly the poster child for normal.

“I feel sorry for him. He’s so desperate for the next great, best thing, he can’t see all the good things he has, or could have if he stopped trying to sleep with every woman he met. Wife number three was a sweet, caring woman—an awesome mother to his kids and she kept herself in great shape—and he squandered it away for a stripper and some raunchy home sex vi—well, I guess it’s really none of my business what he does. It’s his life, isn’t it? If he wants to waste it, it’s his prerogative.”

“Again with the sex video.”

Raina accused him of making a sex video with her because in her words, he seemed the type. He sat upright, the seatbelt cutting into his shoulder. Twice, she’d compared him to her degenerate father and he was going to call her on it. “I’m not like Miller.”

She dropped her head forward and continued with her self-massage. “I never implied you were. I simply told you about him and I guess I went off topic. While I’ll be expected to know where you shop, you won’t be asked about my clothing.”

“No, I want to go back to the sex video discussion. In the hotel room, you told me I was the type to make a sex video. Because I used to date a lot doesn’t mean I slept with a different woman every night.” In his twenties, perhaps, but the older he became, the more discriminate. Lately, even his dating life had dried up in lieu of work and the extent of his sex life was a causal affair with an international pilot, but, like him, she was only in it for the sex.

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