It’s like she doesn’t know the meaning of keeping shit under wraps.I grab hold of her hand and spin her around, dipping her body and pulling her up like we’re two lovers dancing instead of practically strangers exchanging cold hard cash in broad daylight, er, stagelight, right under everyone’s noses.It’s only a matter of time before sports betting is legal in our state, let alone openly traded, but today is not that day.And even if it was, it’s not like I have a license for this shit.Every bet is meant to be placed quietly and behind closed doors, or at least with an ounce of subtlety.This girl, however, clearly hasn’t gotten the memo, and losing a potential new client all because she’s too damn naive for her own good is the last thing I should do.Especially not in the current climate with Morgan.When she’s upright again, I lean closer and whisper in her ear, “And what is this for, beautiful?”
She turns her head ever so slightly, letting her lips skate against my cheek before hovering against my earlobe.“My brother says there’s an NHL game tomorrow.Wanted me to place a hundred on the Grizzlies.”
With a slow nod, I murmur, “Any kind of spread?”
“Uh, no?”It comes out as a question.“What does that mean?”
Oh, the trust people have in their bookies.I could say whatever I want right now.Lie right to the girl’s face, or manipulate her into taking a shit bet.I won’t.But I could.She’s lucky she came to me instead of Morgan.He would’ve fucked her over, for sure.Probably literally and figuratively.But I digress.
“Did your brother mention how many points he thinks the Grizzlies will win by or anything like that?”I ask.
“Uh, no?”she repeats with the same heavy dose of confusion.“Shit, am I doing this wrong?”
“Not at all.”I let our cheeks brush, giving any potential outsiders a solid show before pulling back and giving her a smile.“I’ve got you covered.”
Relief spreads over her.“Perfect.”
“So, who won a lovely night with you?”I ask.I shouldn’t.Truth be told, I don’t give a shit, but my business is already precarious enough as it is.If she’s coming to me instead of Morgan because of my gleaming personality, I might as well give her a taste, even if it makes me feel a little dirty.
The things I do for money.
“George Manwell,” she answers.“He’s one of my father’s associates and hired me to help his daughter learn how to do a back handspring.”
That’s how I recognize her.She’s on HHU’s cheerleading team.Noted.
“Well, I’m sure you two will have a great time,” I reply.
“Not as much as you and I could have.”
“Of course not.”With a wink, I drop my arm from around her waist and let go of our entwined hands while keeping a firm hold on the money.“And even though I would love to discuss all the fun we could’ve had, I should probably get going.People to see.Nights to plan.”I bend closer one more time, whispering, “Bets to take.”
Her tinkling laughter hits like nails on a chalkboard.“I almost forgot how funny you are, Ford.”
Fuck, we’ve actually talked before?Not just passed by in one of our classes or at a party?I must’ve been shit-faced.
Please tell me all we did was talk.
My stomach churns at the thought of touching her waxy lips with mine.
“Well.”She smooths down the starched white fabric along my chest.“I guess I’ll be…impatiently waiting for an invite.”She smiles.“Or, you know, a non-invite.”Super subtle, cheerleader.“See you around, Ford.”
I tack on a fake-as-hell smile.“You definitely will, beautiful.”
The smell of perfume cakes the air as I move further into the backstage area, finding Jagger standing with Violet and June.Violet’s back is pressed to my brother’s chest, his arms wrapped around her torso, and her hands cupping his forearms.It’d be cute if I weren’t so disgusted.The man is whipped.
June, on the other hand, looks as gorgeous up close as she did on stage.Like a perfect little slice of Quasimodough I’d love to reach out and take a bite of.Bet she’d taste like?—
“What took you so long?”Violet asks.
I tear my attention from June, sticking a pin in the fantasy of tasting her, and turn to Violet instead.“Ran into a friend,” I lie.
“We saw,” Violet replies.“She seems…” Her brow quirks.“Nice?”
I glance over my shoulder, curious if the girl in question is still hovering nearby.“Who?”
“The girl,” Violet explains.“Your…friend?”
“Friend?”I repeat, mimicking her tone.“Do I sense a hint of accusation, Ms.Violet?”
