Page 16 of Ship Happens
“New York City?”
I shake my head again, though I actually spend a good bit of time in the Big Apple.
He squints and studies my face, then steps back. “No big deal. I’ll figure it out eventually, but we need to get going. You ready?”
“I need to freshen up a bit, but you can go on ahead. I’m sure I can find my way around.”
He nods and heads into the hall, leaving me alone in the room. I step into the bathroom and run a brush through my hair, then dab a bit of matte lipstick on my lips. The corner of my mouth rises in a smirk as I recall him thinking we were closer in age. I may be pushing forty, but I’ve still got it.
The bags under my eyes can’t be helped, however. I need an entire night of restful sleep, and that isn’t likely to happen until I retire. Which I will never willingly do.
I shove my things away in a small bag and join Maverick in the hall. He stands beside a shorter man with dark hair and eyes as blue as mine. When the man notices me, his lips push together, and the whispers stop.
“Sorry to interrupt,” I say. “Is it time for the next game now?”
“I’ll let you two get on with it,” the man says. He nods toward me with a pinched smile, then turns and strides down the hallway.
“Who was that?” I ask, hoping the question sounds innocuous enough to his ears.
“Just Bennett.”
“What’s his killer name?”
Maverick’s green eyes pin my feet to the floor. “Why do you want to know?”
“Curiosity,” I say.
When he takes a step closer, my feet still refuse to cooperate. “You’re curious, huh?”
I nod. “Yeah.”
“You know the saying, don’t you? Curiosity killed the cat.” He stops and looks down at me, and I have never felt this small and inconsequential. “Satisfaction brought him back. What would it take to satisfy you?”
He means my curiosity, but my pussy doesn’t get the memo. I nearly blurt out that about five minutes with his dick should do the trick, but my lips clamp shut before I can embarrass myself.
“There you are!” a woman shouts from down the hall, and we turn toward a tall beauty in a beige pantsuit. Gold jewelry shimmers on her fingers, and her makeup is so flawless that her face looks like a living photo filter. “Jim was able to arrange a flight a day early, so I didn’t have to miss the first game. Just dinner.”
Maverick pulls her in for a hug, then turns her toward me. “Frankie, this is?—”
“Eve,” I say. I hold my hand toward her and try to hide my shock when I spot her purple wristband. “I know who she is. My mother and I attended the show in Paris last spring.”
Eve’s dark eyes widen, and she smiles. “The show for Florenz Francesi? Wasn’t Vlad’s cape to die for?”
“The one made entirely from beach plastics?” I nod. “How does Francesi come up with that stuff?”
“Honey, I don’t know, but the man is a genius. He’s hosting another showing this winter, but it’s by invitation only.” Eve raises one perfectly sculpted eyebrow. “Lucky for you, I know a guy.”
This woman is an icon. Even in the least fashion-forward circles, she’s a household name. She’s the face of numerous charities, including one for breast cancer research and another for victims of childhood abuse. Two years ago, she received international recognition for her humanitarian efforts in war-torn areas.
And she’s a fuckingserial killer?
“I hear it’s a team game,” Eve says as she slips her arm through mine and starts down the hall. “You and Imustbe on the same team. I won’t have it any other way. The ladies have to stick together.”
Footsteps join ours, and Maverick says, “Excuse me, but she’smyroommate. If she’ll be on anyone’s team, it’s mine.”
“Chill, Casanova. I’m not trying to move in on your woman. I actually met someone recently.” Eve turns her head so that she can look at Maverick. “Her name is Silo, and she can do some nasty things with her tongue.”
“Silo?” Maverick asks. “What sort of name is that?”
