Page 26 of First Star I See Tonight (Chicago Stars 8)

“Open the door, Esmerelda. We have to talk.”

“Now?”

“Now.”

She groaned and flopped back onto the luxurious mattress. The bed was heaven, and she didn’t ever want to leave it, especially now, when she wasn’t nearly sharp enough to go one-on-one with her employer. She gazed at the time through bleary eyes—nine thirty. But she hadn’t gotten to sleep until after three. Thank God the club wasn’t open every night. Four nights a week was more than enough.

She’d slept in a Chicago Bears T-shirt and underpants. She fumbled with her jeans and awkwardly zipped them as she crossed the living room on bare feet. She didn’t look at him as she opened the door. “I don’t even talk to myself until I’ve brushed my teeth.” Turning away, she headed for the apartment’s tiny bathroom, where she peed, brushed, and pulled herself together. When she came out, he was sitting on her couch, one ankle crossed over his knee, a Starbucks cup curled in his giant hand. She looked around hopefully for a second cup but didn’t see one.

“You’ve spent one night on the job,” he said, “and I’ve already had my first complaint about you.”

She didn’t have to think long to come up with the most likely source, but she played dumb. “No way.”

“You pissed off Emily Trenton.”

“Emily Trenton?”

“The actress on Third Degree.”

“That’s the worst show,” she retorted. “I don’t know about you, but I’m getting sick of seeing women’s bodies with slit throats and bullet holes every time I turn on the TV. Whatever happened to letting audiences use their imagination? And don’t get me started on the autopsy shots. I swear if I see another—”

“Your job is to watch the staff, not antagonize the customers.”

She started to protest, then stopped herself. “You’re right. It won’t happen again.”

He seemed surprised that she wasn’t arguing with him, but she’d been out of line with the actress, and she saw no sense in defending herself.

He took a sip of coffee and studied her. “What did you say to her, anyway?”

“I told her she should dump the guy who was making her so miserable.”

“One of the dirtiest players in the league,” Graham said in disgust. “Late hits, facemasks, head butting. You name it, and the son of a bitch has done it. One of my MRIs has his name written all over it.”

“Yet you let him in the club.”

He shrugged. “If I excluded everybody who’s pissed me off, I could be out of business.”

“I don’t get why you’re doing this in the first place. It’s a semiseedy business—not that Spiral is sleazy, but the hours are crap, and you already have enough money to buy a small country. Or an island. That’s what I’d do. Buy an island.”

“They’re a dime a dozen.”

Lack of caffeine made her stupid. “I don’t like you.” She quickly amended her statement. “Let me clarify. Personally, I don’t like your sense of entitlement, but as your employee, I am completely loyal to you. I’d even throw myself between you and a bullet.”

“Good to know.”

Considering the fact that he’d given her a job and offered her an apartment, she was being rude, even for her. He also didn’t seem inclined to censure her for last night’s incident with the actress. “Sorry. I have an attitude problem when I haven’t had my morning coffee.”

“Only then?”

“Other times, too. I’m kind of a guy that way.”

“Really?” His gaze dropped to her breasts, and that brought her fully awake. She’d forgotten she wasn’t wearing a bra under her Bears T-shirt, and she automatically slouched. He smiled. Why not? He’d seen some of the most expensive breasts in the world, and hers were nothing more than ordinary. But still, he’d made her uncharacteristically self-conscious.

“The coffeemaker’s on the counter,” he said.

She started for the kitchen, then remembered she hadn’t bought coffee. “Never mind. I haven’t been to the grocery.”

“There’re beans and a grinder in the kitchen downstairs. I’ll unlock the door for you.”

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