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“You’ve been watching too much historical drama again. Go wash your imagination out with soap.”
“Nope. Not my imagination. I know the signs of a guy who has got his eyes on someone.”
“Well, that’s too bad for him. Alex Winters is just about the last guy on earth I would want to date—or anything else your warped mind can come up with.”
“Why? He’s smokin’. If I weren’t so very happily married, I’d do him.”
“Han!” Maggie glanced around the parking garage, hoping like hell that Mal Coulter hadn’t had time to install any security upgrades. Like security cameras with sound. That was the last thing she needed, Alex and his two cronies hearing her best friend debating their sexual merits.
“Maggie!” Hana parroted back. “It’s not a terrible idea. When was the last time you got laid anyway? You stopped seeing that grad-school dude about six months ago. Tell me you’ve gotten some since then.”
“I—” Maggie stopped, thinking about it. When had it been? Evan had been more like seven months ago when she counted back. And then there’d been a blur of final assignments and exams and the end of the season and then Christmas. Of course there were fingers and vibrators but she didn’t think Hana would count those.
“Christ, you need to get out more if you can’t even remember,” Hana said. Before she’d settled down with Brett, Hana had never gone long without a man. Maggie knew that all too well. Hana told hilarious stories about sneaking around during her Olympic prep to escape the eagle eye of her very traditional coach who believed that sex would take away from her vital energies or something. Or maybe it was that unmarried women shouldn’t have sex at all. Whatever the reason, Hana had never made a secret of the fact that she enjoyed men both in and out of bed, and she found Maggie’s ability to actually take a few months’ break between relationships somewhat mystifying.
“Give it up, Hana. I am not going to sleep with my boss.”
“We’ll see,” Hana said. “Let me think about other possibilities. I’ll ask Shelly. She knows everyone.”
“God. The two of you are like a broken record. Now, are you going to let me out of the car so I can actually get some work done?”
“Hey, you were the one banging her head on the steering wheel. I just stopped to make sure you weren’t sucking down carbon monoxide. Not a pretty way to die.”
“Thanks. You’re all heart.”
Hana stepped back so Maggie could climb out. She fell into step beside her when Maggie headed for the elevator.
“Weren’t you leaving?” Maggie asked.
“Nope.” Hana patted the huge black bag she carted everywhere. “One glove still to be delivered. And one best friend to escort through the building to make sure she doesn’t wimp out and leave.”
“I am not going to wimp out.”
“Good. If you play your cards right, then you can have Alex Winters eating out of the palm of your hand and you’ll be helping him run the place before you know it.”
“Nice theory.” Maggie pushed the elevator call button and began the wait for the lift to descend. It was pretty slow even on a good day. Maybe Alex would upgrade it as part of his plans. It would be nice to be able to get upstairs in less than five minutes occasionally. “But I don’t think that Alex Winters is a pushover. Or the kind of man to be bamboozled by female wiles.” He had some pretty good male wiles of his own. Not to mention that very healthy ego. In her experience it was the guys who were not quite so secure as they made out who fell prey to women trying to manipulate them. She’d seen it often with the younger players. And some of the older ones. But the really great ones. The ones with a solid belief in themselves and their abilities? Those were the ones who could pick a schemer at fifty paces. The ones like Brett who picked good women like Hana. Even if Hana was a nutcase at times.
“You’ll never know until you try.”
“I’d prefer to actually show him what I can do and get him to take me seriously.”
“Well, sure. You can do that too but a bit of sex appeal can’t hurt. It’ll make your brains even more of a surprise. So what are you wearing to the party?”
“Party? What party?” The elevator door dinged and the doors slid open with a rattle.
“The one that Alex was talking about last night,” Hana said as they stepped in. “The belated Christmas party. Big shindig? Remember?”
“Yes, I remember,” Maggie said.
“So you need a killer dress. If Alex wants you to play hostess, you’ve gotta outdress all us WAGs. And we’re pretty hot.” Hana struck a pose worthy of a Victoria’s Secret angel and pouted.
“I gave up trying to outdress you years ago.”
“That was your first mistake.” Hana looked her up and down, considering. “Short. Slinky. Show off your legs. Good heels and a bit of glitter. Got anything like that?”
Maggie thought of the sparkling silver stilettos that had been one of her European purchases. “I have shoes. Silver and spiky.”
“It’s a start. So we need the dress. Not black and not red. Too many of the newbs—” “The newbs” being Hana’s term for the players’ girlfriends who weren’t long-term or serious. “They’ll do the obvious thing. Tight black dress. Or Christmas red cut that little bit too low.”
