Double Play (16 page)

“
What …?”

“
Caught ’em in the closet at the party the other night …
checking each other’s coats.” She raised an eyebrow so he got her
gist.

“
Whoa,
right underneath her husband’s nose.”

“
And
his double-breasted car coat.”

“
Are
you going to say anything?”

“
Hell,
no! Shoot the messenger, remember?” She shrugged. “Not that anyone
would really care. She’s George’s third wife. Aiken’s on his
second. Damien’s not the only cheating husband on the team.
Marriages in this business make Hollywood nuptials seem
sacred.”

She couldn’t
think of one example on the team, or anywhere else for that matter,
where the couple lived happily ever after. Last year’s star rookie
was back at the top of the Buffalo’s list of bachelors after
breaking off his engagement this summer. It wasn’t just her male
coworkers, either. Even Anne Marie, who’d been married to her high
school sweetheart for the last twenty years, constantly complained
about her husband.

As though he was
reading her mind, Benji squeezed her hand
and said, “Well, we
won’t be like that.”

For a man of
science, he sure didn’t see the facts
.

The doorbell
chimed and Cat’s heart leapt in her throat.

“
Oh,
God. At this rate, that’s probably a flaming bag of dog poop.” She
hurried out of the bedroom but Quinn met her in the
hallway.

“
Don’t
worry, that’s for me.”

He flung the door
open. A tall, willowy, raven-haired beauty was braced against the
threshold.
Her double-D chest
was already inviting itself in.

“
Quinny, Quinn, Quinn.” A big smile spread across her face.
“You are one lucky bastard, you know it?”

“
Come
on in and tell me all about it.” He held the door open and she
sauntered in, her stilettos clomping with each slow, deliberate
step.

She passed by,
giving Cat’s bathrobe a dismissive glance. The woman’s outfit was
as flashy as her short, spiky
black
hair. She wore wide-legged trousers and a
tight white t-shirt. Stretched over her large breasts was a set of
scarlet suspenders. They were a bold choice but judging from the
vamp lipstick and eyebrow ring, she was going for bold.

“
Webbs, this is my sister Cat. Cat, Webbs.”

“
Half
-sister,” Cat said, her smile
thin-lipped.

Webbs fingered
the long strand of faux pearls around her neck and eyed her
suspiciously. “I know you. You’re the reporter who had the poker
game ….” She looked around the apartment and snapped her
fingers. “Oh my God, don’t tell me. This is the place, isn’t
it?”

Cat rolled her
eyes and walked into the living room. They followed on her heels.
She sank into the couch and said, “This is it. If you want to tell
me off, take a number.”

Webbs waved her
slender hand through the air. Her long fingernails were painted
blood red. “Nah. I’m a Toronto fan anyway.”

“
Thanks, but that’s not really the reassurance I was looking
for.”

“
I’m
sure it sucks being all over the news but it’ll blow over; this
shit always does.” She took an envelope out of her back pocket and
smacked it up against Quinn’s broad chest, leaving her hand there
until he took it. “Of course, until that happens, you’ve got one
rich brother. You’re my only client that’s actually made money
tonight, sugar lips. All my other stops are pickups.” She rubbed
her thumb against the pads of her fingers.

Cat froze. Her
eyes flashed back and forth from the towering Quinn to the almost
as tall Webbs. “Hold up. Quinn, is she a bookie?”

Webbs seemed to
give this some thought. “Actually, I prefer to be called a sports
broker. The word ‘bookie’ conjures up this image of a shady ogre
wearing a stained wifebeater and kicking in teeth.” She stuck her
foot out and tugged her pant leg up. “These are Christian
Louboutins and I love them too much to get some deadbeat’s blood on
them.”

No wonder she was
almost as tall as Quinn, those Christian Louboutins came with a
six-inch heel. They were also made of Italian leather. Cat felt a
twinge of envy.

Sports brokers
must make a lot more money than sports writers.

She tore her eyes
away from the expensive shoes and glared at her brother. “Quinn, I
can’t have bookies in my apartment. Do you realize what could
happen if someone sees her coming in here? I mean, God only knows
who’s watching my apartment anyway.” She hurried over to the
window, peering out into the street. A car passed by and a man
walking his dog. “We’re probably on the news right now. The media
is just waiting to make this situation so much worse, not to
mention that I’ve got a detective on my ass who thinks I’m hiding
something.”

Quinn laughed,
carefree as a kid on Christmas. “Wrinkle cream. Economy size. Look
into it. This is why people think I’m your younger
brother.”

Cat gritted her
teeth. “Do you know how this must look? Some shady chick comes into
my house handing over cash for my team’s bloody playoff loss?” She
turned to Webbs. “No offense.”

“
Might
want to refill the Paxil while you’re at it,” Quinn
added.

Webbs stepped
closer. “Offense not taken but you need to slow your roll,
chickadee. It really isn’t that big of a deal.”

“
If
the league has any reason to think I’m betting on games, I’m toast.
Crispy, charred toast.”

Webbs crossed her
arms under her massive chest. “You’re not exactly Pete Rose. I
doubt anyone will care.”

“
Have
you watched the news lately?”

“
Bets
or no bets, you have no effect on the game.”

“
It’s
a violation of the ethics code, which is a fireable offense.” She
shook her head at Quinn. “Why do you want to ruin me?”

His dancing eyes
finally softened. “I don’t.” He sighed. “I think all the stress is
making you paranoid. Nobody’s watching your freaking
house.”

“
You
do look stressed,” Webbs said. She pulled a business card out of
her back pocket and grabbed a pen off the coffee table. “I’m going
to write a coupon code on here. If you punch it into the website,
it’ll give you a bunch of vouchers for the gaming ship I work at,
the Snow Bird. You should come down sometime, blow off some
steam.”

“
Oh
sure, hanging out at the casino. That should help repair my
reputation.”

Webbs smiled a
big, toothy grin as she passed her the business card. “There’s more
to do than gambling. Maybe a couples’ massage for you and your
handsome boy toy back there.”

Cat hadn’t even
noticed that Benji had entered the room until now. He was leaning
against the back wall.

“
It’s
fiancé
, actually. Benji,” he said.

Webbs nodded.
“Aw, how nice. Then you two should come check out the wedding
chapel. I bet even a classy chick like you would be
impressed.”

Cat gave her a
thin, polite smile. “I appreciate that but we just moved from Las
Vegas. The last thing we want to do is get married in a
casino.”

“
Well,
hoity-toity, your highness, but the least you can do is give it a
look on the ship’s dime.” She ripped the business card out of Cat’s
hands and wrote another code on it before handing it back. “This
one will get you a free dinner at the ship’s five-star
restaurant.”

“
I’ll
think about it.”

“
I
know for a fact there’s no game tomorrow so I’ll schedule you for a
four p.m. massage with Lars. He’s Swedish but his massages don’t
have to be.” Webbs winked at her.

Benji cleared his
throat. “Tomorrow’s a travel day for the game in Chicago. She’ll
leave with the team.”

“
Actually I was thinking about taking an early flight to O’Hare
on Monday morning instead,” Cat said.

Benji gave her a
curious look. She shook it off. “I’ll explain later.”

“
Well,
great,” said Webbs. “Four p.m. with Lars, you can check out the
chapel and then I’ll make a reservation for two at
Les Fleurs
des Iles
. I recommend the steak, but I think you’ll find
they’ve got a great menu.”

“
Wow,
thanks … I guess.” Cat narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “What,
do you get a percentage of every couple you bring in or
something?”

She laughed.
“Let’s just say any sister of Quinn’s is a sister of
mine.”

Quinn jerked his
head toward the door. “Enough playing wedding planner. I got a
little more business to discuss. We can go into my
office.”

“
Uh,
that’s
my
office—your guest room.”

Quinn rolled his
emerald eyes. “Whatever. Follow me.” He shut the door behind
them.

Cat rolled her
own green eyes at Benji. “Is it just me or do you get the feeling
he’s slowly easing us out of our own apartment? Like we’re going to
come home next week and find this place crawling with go-go dancers
and that our keys no longer work?”

“
Yet
we’ll still have to pay rent?” Benji ran his hand through his
disheveled black curls. “Yeah, I could see that.”

“
You
know his Harley was parked in my spot when I came home? I had to
park in one of the guest spaces down by the office and walk all the
way across the parking lot.”

“
I can
beat that. When I got home from school, he was in our bathroom
taking a bubble bath.”

She curled into
his arms. “Regale me with the tales of being an only
child.”

He stroked her
hair. “Well, for starters, the concept of sharing was lost on me.
My toys were mine and mine only. Sadly, this might be the reason I
fail to qualify as an attentive lover.”

She
giggled.

“
And
had my family celebrated Christmas, I’m sure I would’ve had gift
after gift to unwrap. I always got more than the prescribed daily
gift during Hanukkah.”

“
Unless you were naughty.”

“
Ooh,
I’ll show you naughty.” He brought his lips to hers and she kissed
them, savoring the best moment of her day.

It was still dark
out when Cat’s eyes flipped open for her first day off in a week.
She squinted at the alarm clock.

5:43.

Benji was sound
asleep. Days of the week didn’t mean much to her during baseball
season
,
but to a teacher
they were everything. Sunday was Benji’s favorite. It was the only
day when there were no early or late hour labs for the
nontraditional students—the classes that he, as the biology
department’s low man on the spindle pole, always got stuck
teaching. Benji wouldn’t wake for several hours and that’s when
they’d usually go out for pancakes.

Cat took a deep
breath and debated how long it would take her to fall back to
sleep. Wedding nightmares had stepped aside to allow her work
troubles to terrorize her slumber. Last night she’d been tied to a
stake on the pitcher’s mound in front of a packed, cheering
Soldiers
S
tadium. She’d
woken up just before a hooded executioner had thrown the flaming
match on the kindling beneath her. She longed for the nights when
all she’d had to worry about was being strangled by her own veil or
stampeded by a horse-drawn carriage. She took one more look at
Benji—his breathing was still slow and deep—and slowly crept out of
bed. Grabbing her
pink
robe off the door hook, she tiptoed out the bedroom door, closing
it softly behind her.

She peered down
the hallway. Seeing that her office door was closed, she wondered
if Quinn was in there asleep or still out on the town. The Buffalo
bars closed at 4 a.m. but that didn’t mean he hadn’t found an
after-hours party. Quinn made friends as easily as he made trouble.
She crept to the office door, placed her ear against it, and smiled
when she heard snores.

She started the
coffee pot while her laptop cued up at the kitchen table. Once she
had a warm mug in her hands, she searched the news for any updates
on Damien Staats.

“
What
are you doing up so early?”

Startled, Cat
jumped and hot coffee splashed onto her hands and the table.
“Benji!” She wiped it off with the sleeve of her robe.
It stained the pink flannel with soft
brown blobs.
“You scared me.”

“
You
didn’t have that nightmare again, did you? The one where you
explode after the wedding rice is thrown at us?”

“
Not
exactly.”

He went into the
kitchen and came out with a mug of his own. “Because I already told
you that the ‘birds will eat the wedding rice and their stomachs
will burst’ thing is just an urban legend. Birds will and do eat
rice with no adverse effects.” He took a sip of coffee. “In fact,
it’d be raining bloody feathers in Asia if that was
true.”

“
That’s lovely imagery for six in the morning, thank
you.”

“
Speaking of birds, what time do you want to head down to this
Snow Bird Casino?” Benji pulled out the chair next to
hers.