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Amber was used to being judged only by her agile coloratura-soprano voice, and that made her naive about the television industry. Piper tried to encourage Jen, but growing up as the daughter of Duke Dove had let her see every facet of male sexism. Jen was being held to a different standard than the men at the station were, and she had reason to worry.
Berni shot up from the couch. “I know what I’m going to do!”
“Put out a contract on Dumb Ass for me?” Jen said glumly.
“I’m going to hire Piper to find Howard!”
Piper regarded her with dismay. “Berni, that’s not—”
“I’ll pay you. I’ve been looking for something special to spend my income tax refund on. Nothing could be more special than this.”
“Berni, I couldn’t take your money. Howard had a—”
Another knock sounded on the door, this one more forceful than the others. No one had buzzed her condo, and her usual visitors were already here. She set down her beer, made her way across the carpet, and turned the knob.
He filled the doorway—all long muscles, big shoulders, and powerful chest.
“Hello, Esmerelda.”
3
The barbarian was at her gate. Piper’s stomach plummeted. “How did you get in the building?”
He regarded her with the golden-brown eyes of a wolf ready to devour his prey, not because the wolf was hungry, but just for the hell of it. “Your downstairs neighbors are Stars fans.”
They weren’t the only ones. Berni squawked as though she’d laid an egg. “Cooper Graham!” She jumped up from the couch, agile as a teenager. “Oh, I wish Howard was here! Oh, my goodness.”
Cooper tipped his head to her. “Ma’am.”
“Howard was a Bears fan like Piper,” Berni told him, “but I was born in the western ’burbs in the days when hardly anybody lived out there. I’m Berni Berkovitz. Bernadette, really. I’ve been a Stars fan from the beginning. And Howard always rooted for the Stars. Unless they were playing the Bears,” she amended.
“Understandable.” He was all celebrity graciousness, waiting patiently as she rambled on. Jen, in the meantime, crossed her very shapely legs, dangled her pump from one toe, and swished her dark hair away from her face, waiting to be noticed. Amber, however, was mystified. She could name every obscure composer from the past four centuries, but she barely knew Chicago even had professional sports teams.
Berni was still gushing. “Oh, my, Piper. You said you had an important client, but I had no idea . . .”
“I’m not a client of Ms. Dove’s.” Cooper stomped on her name as if it were a cockroach. “I’m the person she was hired to investigate.”
Thank you, Officer Hottie, for your big mouth.
Berni sputtered, then turned accusing eyes on Piper. “Really, Piper? Why were you investigating Cooper?”
While Piper tried to unlock her jaw, Jen rose gracefully from the couch. “Jennifer MacLeish. Channel Eight weather. We met at the Children’s Charities Holly Ball last year, but I’m sure you don’t remember.”
“Of course, I do.” His hand engulfed hers. “It’s good to see you again, Ms. MacLeish. Although I can’t say much for the company you keep.”
Amber dashed toward the door. “I’ll leave.”
“Not you, Amber,” Jen said. “He’s talking about Piper.”
Graham nodded. “That’s true.”
Piper took a slug of beer, wishing it were the Stoli.
Berni couldn’t stand Amber’s ignorance. “Amber, this is Cooper Graham. He’s one of the most famous football players in the world. Even you have to have heard of him.”
“Oh, I’m sure I have,” Amber said, sure of no such thing.
“Amber sings with the Lyric,” Jen explained. “She’s both clueless and amazing.”
