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  “I liked the curve of your hip, Melanie.” He took a deep breath. “And those legs. You have amazing legs. You didn’t cover up nearly enough of the good stuff.”

  Melanie’s eyes were glued to his expressive face. She could tell the memory excited him. She wished they had another night in Vegas to run into each other and do something crazy again. She wanted to satisfy him in an elevator, while a bunch of tourists from Dubuque, Iowa, waited impatiently to get on. I don’t think there’s any part of you I don’t like. Except your suspicious mind.

  The public announcement system clicked and a voice came on over the terminal. “Alaska Airlines Flight 643 is now pre-boarding at gate A15.”

  “That’s me,” Rob said, speaking over the rest of the announcement as he quicksilver-changed back into a businessman. “Are you in first class?”

  Melanie shook her head no.

  “Too bad.” He tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear and tugged gently on her earlobe. “See you around. Somehow I doubt we’ve seen the last of each other. After all, the deal between LeatherWorks and Professional Massage isn’t signed yet.”

  “You’re going to have to come up with a better reason to run into me than that, Rob, because I’m not kidding. I’m not going to be involved.” Melanie tried to smile. When would she meet the likes of him again? She was almost sorry this business trip was over.

  His eyes darkened and he shook his head. “I don’t believe it for a second. We’ll meet again. I’m willing to bet every penny your boyfriend lost in those slots just now that I’m right.”

  Melanie chuckled at Rob’s description of Tommy Joe. Maybe having Rob think that wasn’t such a bad idea—he thought she was in demand. “The only reason for you and I to run into each other is the situation regarding my cousin Brisa Vanderpool.” She held out her hand to Rob, who took it with a firm grip. “Don’t think I’m going to ignore the fact that, in my opinion, she has an unresolved harassment complaint against your company. Even if you weren’t involved in any way, you’re still the CEO.”

  Rob’s mouth twisted and he dropped her hand. “Why don’t you take that up with your company? After all, they’ll be the owners soon.” He turned on his boot heel and walked toward the gate.

  Melanie was glad for the frisson of anger that shot through her. She wanted to be angry with him. What other emotion could she possibly have? She turned back to Tommy Joe.

  * * * * *

  “Daddy Bear,” Tida crooned. “Are you happy I am home?” She spooned up against Al, spreading her hair across his shoulders as she ran a red-lacquered finger down his morning erection.

  “Papa Bear,” Al corrected. “I’m sorry you left.” He relaxed into the mid-morning hedonism she offered. But afterward, the sun beat down hot through the dormer windows and he was sticky, so he threw back the crumpled white sheets and crossed to the bathroom. Once again he wished he had remembered to put in air conditioning, even if he only needed it for the few weeks out of the year that Seattle experienced summer.

  “How did it go in Vegas?” he called from the bathroom. He hoped Tida had gotten the exotic dance bug out of her system and that modeling would be enough for her, though he doubted she’d had any luck. He felt Tida’s slight body lean into him from behind, almost invisible as he looked into the mirror. A younger man would have stiffened immediately at the sight of her thickly perfumed jasmine hair cascading down to her rounded, tawny tush, but he merely smiled and reached behind, running a hand over one peach-firm cheek.

  “I found a better job,” she said, nuzzling his shoulder blade.

  “You’re going to be a LeatherWorks model?” Al asked, surprised, though he had suggested she check into it. He had figured she wouldn’t get the opportunity until the company was sold to Professional Massage and he could pull some strings. He had mainly bought her the ticket to give her a little excitement and time to think about whether she really wanted to change jobs. Tida liked to play the exotic innocent, but he knew how her mind worked. She thought out loud. Just because she said it didn’t mean she’d come to a final conclusion.

  Tida stepped out from behind him and shook her head at him in the mirror. “No, I am not to be a model.”

  Not surprising. Anita, his ex, had been a porn star for years before getting a shot at a modeling contract with them. LeatherWorks was the cream of the crop, which is why Al had suggested the purchase to Professional Massage’s upper management when he heard they were on the block.

  “Then what kind of job did you get?” he asked.

  “Nurse assistant.” At Al’s raised eyebrow, she smiled. “Fifty percent raise, Papa Bear, not bad.”

  “Not bad,” Al repeated. He pushed away from the sink and turned on the shower. “Where will you be working?” Was she going to move to Vegas? That wouldn’t suit him at all.

  Tida pulled two towels from the linen cupboard set into the wall of the bathroom and stacked them on the heated towel rack. “In a private home—the house of the owner of LeatherWorks.”

  “No kidding.” That job wouldn’t last for long. After John Black died they’d have to go through this all over again.

  “Yes. The conference was a very interesting and profitable experience.” She fixed him with her almond eyes as he was about to step into the shower. “I met your former lover Anita. Very nice lady. I like her.”

  “You met her?” For some reason, Al’s first instinct was to cover his limp privates with his hands as he stood naked to his lover’s probing eyes.

  “Of course. I recognize her from her photograph on the mask package you gave me for my birthday.”

  Al swallowed and watched the corners of Tida’s mouth creep up in a Mona Lisa smile. Gotcha.

  “The Whipmaster is as beautiful as his picture,” said Tida, changing the subject now she had made her point. “A California boy, but with a dark soul, I think. Unhappy.”

  Al pulled the shower curtain closed and mused over this information as he stood under the showerhead. Could he trust her? Not really, but she was greedy and he could use that.

  “I told you the company was for sale, right?” he called out over the sound of the water.

  “Of course, Papa Bear,” Tida gave him a girlish giggle. “You have clout.”

  “Right. But I didn’t tell you the owner was dying.” Al stepped out of the shower and pushed his hair out of his eyes. He held out a towel but Tida held it in her arm.

  “You tell me I should not take this job?” Tida asked, her mouth set in a thin line. “It is temporary?”

  Al snorted. “The man has cancer, Tida. He wants to sell before he dies.”

  “I do not think the Whipmaster knows this,” Tida said.

  Al grabbed the other towel from the rack and mopped his face. “What he thinks isn’t important. He’s not the owner and he’s a surly SOB anyhow.”

  “He does not want to lose his job, I think,” Tida said absently, putting the towel she held onto the rack. She stepped into the shower. She washed quickly then stepped out and grabbed her towel, clutching it around herself. “Should I take the job?”

  Al had never seen her unsure of herself before. But he realized the situation had worked out perfectly for him as well as Professional Massage.

  “I’ll tell you what, Tida. Things aren’t as smooth as they could be with the sale.” He could see Tida’s greedy brain mentally adding this information to the picture of his net value to her. Dropping his towel, he put his arm around her.

  “Listen to me. You might hear something important. Professional Massage needs to buy time. We think as John Black sickens, we can force the price down, but we can’t wait so long that Rob Black gets enough control to stop the sale.”

  “So I am important to you?”

  Al nodded. “Very important.”

  “What do I get?” she smiled and ran a finger down his chest.

  * * * * *

  “Thanks for shopping with me, Brisa,” Melanie said as she picked up her cousin Saturday morning.

&
nbsp; “Where to?” Brisa asked, pulling a hair band around the end of her long blonde braid.

  Melanie noticed her cousin was dressed almost identically to herself. They both wore blue chino shorts and lemon-colored short sleeve shirts. With the addition of matching braids, they could have been twins, despite the two-year age difference and the minor height and weight variances. “How about Southcenter?”

  She wanted to pick up a sweater, but more importantly, Victoria’s Secret was having a sale. Her intimate apparel looked a bit raggedy and her favorite pair of panties had been sacrificed to the orgasm god back in Vegas. If she could resurrect her career, she’d have to get her dainties into shape for wild encounters like that night on the stairwell with Rob.

  Brisa shrugged, which emphasized her full breasts. “It’s out of our way but why not? Ethan is over at a friend’s house.” Melanie had always thought the two-cup size difference between her and her cousin was evidence of Brisa’s childbearing, but after having spent the last four days surrounded by porn stars, she realized her cousin’s breasts were far too perky to be real.

  This information set off a bell in the back of her mind, but she ignored it and focused on the issue at hand. She wanted to discuss Brisa’s job situation, not think about her week. Or Rob. Or adult stars. They got in the car and headed for the I-5 entrance heading south to Tukwila. “The Nordstrom at Southcenter has a fall sweater I want,” she said in explanation for the long drive. Then she asked, “Have you heard from LeatherWorks at all?”

  “Flowers and a note. Which I didn’t open.”

  “That I heard. Anything else?”

  Brisa frowned. “Who have you been talking to?”

  “Rob Black. In Las Vegas.”

  “No kidding.” She sounded surprised. “You ran into him there?”

  “I saw Tim and he introduced me. No. That’s not really true. I met Rob the night before but didn’t know who he was.”

  “Rob isn’t the Vegas type. It sounds like there’s a story in there somewhere.”

  “He was there to work. Do you care?”

  “No, why? I already told you I don’t plan to go back.”

  “For sure?”

  “Not if I can get a hospital job. I’ve already applied to the ones within a reasonable commute, but I haven’t gotten any calls. I guess I may have to go crawling back if I don’t hear soon.”

  Melanie merged to the left to avoid heading to I-90 as they reached downtown Seattle. “You’re already out of options as far as LeatherWorks goes,” she said grimly.

  “Why do you say that? They’ve always hired me back. Whether or not I want to go back is another issue. It doesn’t really suit me.” Brisa fiddled with the radio until she found KMPS, a country station, which was playing a Dixie Chicks tune that Melanie couldn’t stand.

  She raised her voice over the chirpy music. “Listen to me, Brisa. They’ve already replaced you.”

  “You’re kidding.” Brisa didn’t sound terribly concerned. “With whom?”

  Melanie rotated her jaw to relieve the tightness that was forming there. “A little bimbo named Tida. She’s a skinny, curvy little sex machine who drapes herself all over Rob like some kind of lap dancer.”

  “Sounds like you’re jealous.”

  “I’m not! It’s just disgusting is all.”

  “You’re sure you don’t have something to share with me?” Brisa teased.

  “Why aren’t you taking this seriously? Don’t focus on me, focus on your financial situation. You have Ethan to worry about. I think you should sue them for harassment.”

  “What?”

  “Think about it! You’ve got every right! You ought to be treated like a professional, not some silly girl who can be wooed with flowers and candy. That alone shows you how sexist they are.”

  “It’s not that big a deal.”

  “Yes it is. You can’t go back there now. Their bimbo-hiring has lost you the chance to go back. You deserve something. You quit in the first place because of their behavior.”

  “If I go back I’m right where I started.”

  “Don’t go back. Sue the bastards.”

  “Mr. Black is dying already, Melanie. I’d feel like a murderer if I filed a lawsuit.”

  “You told me it wasn’t just him, but the guys at the plant.”

  “What’s the point?”

  “But you said—”

  “Let’s talk about something else for a while, okay? Death depresses me. I’d rather go work in the PACU like I told you on Monday.”

  “I think you should get a lawyer. Call Stanley.”

  “So you want me to lose this hypothetical lawsuit?” Stanley was another cousin who was in his last year of law school at the University of Washington. Sadly, no one in the family had much confidence in his abilities.

  “Of course not, but maybe putting something on the letterhead of the firm he is interning at would scare them into at least giving you a severance package.”

  Brisa sighed. “Okay, I’ll do it. But only if you explain what you’ve got against LeatherWorks. Something must have happened between you and Rob Black.”

  “Vegas got a little complicated,” Melanie admitted, wishing her cousin would focus on what was important. “Rob did ask me out.”

  “No kidding. He asked me out a time or two over the years, but he’s a little too clean-cut for me. Gorgeous, but unimaginative.”

  Melanie opened her mouth to defend Rob, but Brisa’s information deflated her. Maybe he asked out every woman he met. And really, why had she thought she was special? Rob probably went down on women in stairwells every second Thursday or something. “I guess he isn’t too picky.”

  “Excuse me?”

  Melanie patted her cousin on the knee. “You know what I mean. Maybe he just flirts with everyone and asks them out.”

  “I would have said he was pretty quiet, actually. But with my history, even being a single mother, I still get asked out quite a bit. Especially by guys at LeatherWorks. But I have a policy about that—you have to if men find you intriguing, or think you’re easy.”

  “What do you mean about your history?” Melanie pulled off Southcenter Parkway and into the mall parking lot next to Nordstrom. She turned off the ignition.

  Brisa’s profile looked pained. “I had a brief career before nursing.”

  Melanie shut her eyes. “This doesn’t have anything to do with Honey Luscious, does it?”

  Brisa’s hand flew to her chest and she gave a little gasp. “What do you know about that?”

  Melanie drummed her fingers on the steering wheel. “Only that a bunch of people down in Vegas, especially some guy named Harvey Long and another scary loser named Drew Huntley, thought I was a porn star named Honey Luscious.”

  Brisa inhaled sharply.

  “What’s wrong?”

  Brisa’s eyes were closed. “Let’s not discuss this, okay?”

  “Rob thought I was her for a day or two, until Anita Press straightened him out.”

  “Anita?” Brisa shook her head, looking pained. “Enough already!”

  “Okay, okay,” Melanie said softly, afraid her usually stalwart cousin would cry. “Let’s change the subject. How about some gossip?”

  Brisa nodded and grabbed a tissue from the box on the dashboard.

  “Vegas does something to people. I had all the men I could handle there, even though they were guys who live in Seattle. I had encounters with my coworker Tommy Joe and Rob. There was even a night I kissed them both. And did other things too, actually. Life in Vegas was quite a change from Seattle.”

  “You’re kidding!” Brisa said, startled out of her depression.

  Melanie shook her head. “Not at all. Tommy Joe scared me off big time, but Rob, well, let’s just say he has his moments.”

  “So you’re mad about him hiring this Tida chick because you’re afraid he’s going to go after her now?”

  “Of course not,” Melanie protested.

  “Give me a break, cuz. I kn
ow you. Gerald’s philandering drove you half crazy. I’d be surprised if you didn’t react negatively to any man who acted like he was playing the field. But I find it hard to believe.”

  “Why?”

  “Rob is quiet, like I said. He’s pretty cool.”

  “If he’s so cool, he’ll give you a severance package,” Melanie said stubbornly.

  “Fine,” Brisa said, “I’ll call Stanley. Happy?”

  “For the moment.” Melanie knew they would have to talk again. Drew Huntley could come calling since Rob had become involved. What if he knew Brisa’s real name? Now that he knew about a LeatherWorks connection, would he track her to Seattle? She shivered.

  * * * * *

  On Monday in his office, Rob finished up the last email in his overstuffed inbox. He had gotten behind in Vegas. He glanced at the clock and realized it was time for his nine a.m. meeting with the LeatherWorks executive vice president.

  Right on time, his door opened and Jack peered in, jet-black hair flopping over his eyes. “Ready for me, buddy?”

  Rob waved at him to come in. “I see the fort is still holding.”

  “You bet. We’re thrilled about the product you moved in Vegas.”

  Rob grunted. “Speaking of sales, what’s the latest on Professional Massage?”

  “About that,” Jack said.

  “What?” Rob looked up from his computer.

  “We have another offer.”

  Rob took his hands off the keyboard. “You’re kidding.”

  Jack shook his head. Rob noticed that not only did Jack’s hair need a trim, but he had bags under his eyes. He wondered why his VP was burning the midnight oil.

  He stood up and came around his desk then perched on the corner in front of Jack. “Does Grandfather know?”

  “Of course. His assistant is too loyal to keep the news from him until we can spin it properly.”

  “Who made the offer?”

  “Wicked Oil.”

  “Another massage company? That’s odd. Who are they?”

  Jack handled him a file folder. “They’re out of Odessa, Texas. They’re pretty new and privately held, so it’s hard to get concrete details.”