First Star I See Tonight (Chicago Stars #8) - Susan Elizabeth Phillips Page 0,23
observed . . .” she said, “. . . and remember I was at Spiral to keep an eye on you, not your staff . . . Your pal Keith might have had a side deal going with a couple of the servers. Claiming a drink had been returned when it hadn’t, then voiding the sale and pocketing the money. That kind of thing.”
“Which servers?”
She wasn’t throwing anyone under the bus without evidence. “That’s what you’re hiring me to find out.”
Heath Champion came in from the garden carrying a grocery bag with green carrot fronds sticking out of the top. “You’re the only guy I know who’s growing brussels sprouts. Tomatoes I understand. Jalapeños, sure. But brussels sprouts?”
“Deal with it.”
She’d forgotten to turn off her cell, and it blared out the theme from Buffy the Vampire Slayer.
Graham arched an eyebrow at her. “Very professional.”
She grabbed the cell from her messenger bag. The call was from Officer Eric. She turned off the ringer and reached back inside. “I have an agency contract . . .”
Graham tilted his head toward his agent. “Give it to him while I put some clothes on.” He headed toward the stairs, and for the barest moment she imagined standing under those open metal stair treads and looking up. She thrust the folder toward Champion.
He set down his garden produce and took it from her. She watched nervously as he studied the contract. Even though she’d resisted the urge to inflate her flat rate, he might still think she was too expensive.
Champion pulled a pen from his shirt pocket and clicked it. “He can afford a little more than you’re charging.”
She tried to absorb that. “Aren’t you supposed to be protecting his best interests?”
Champion smiled, but didn’t respond.
Graham appeared a few minutes later dressed in jeans and a chest-hugging Stars T-shirt that did an exceptional job of displaying his remarkable shoulders. His agent handed him the contract. Graham studied it, raised an eyebrow at Champion, then looked at her. “Knock off five hundred,” he said, “and you can have the apartment over the club instead of moving into that shitty basement apartment you mentioned.”
“Cheap bastard,” his agent said cheerfully.
“There’s an apartment over the club?” Piper said.
“Two of them,” Graham replied. “One’s occupied, but the other’s free. It’s noisy when the club’s open, but you can always buy earplugs.”
“She’ll knock off three hundred,” Champion said. “That’s as low as she goes.”
Which put her right back where she’d begun, except she’d have a place to stay.
Graham squinted at his agent. “Remind me again why you’re still working for me?”
“Because you need a conscience.”
Graham didn’t seem to take offense. Instead he turned his attention back to Piper. “Move in whenever you like, but I need you on duty tonight.” He pulled a set of keys from a kitchen drawer and tossed them over. “I’ll introduce you at the staff meeting. Eight o’clock sharp.”
She had a job, and she had an apartment that wasn’t in her cousin’s basement. As she gathered up the contract, she wanted to kiss Heath Champion. But there was one more thing.
She gazed at a spot right between Graham’s dark eyebrows. “This means you’re not still suing me, right?”
She didn’t like the quick flash of his crocodile’s teeth. “I’ll get back to you on that.”
***
“There’s something I’m missing here,” Heath said as the elevator doors shut behind Piper Dove.
Coop investigated the contents of Heath’s produce bag with more concentration than it warranted. “What do you mean?”
“Why did you offer her that apartment?”
“The closer I keep her to the club, the more bang I get for my buck.”
Heath retrieved his bag. “I hope your buck is the only thing you’re thinking about banging. That woman is not one of your actresses.”
“I’ve noticed. Besides, as you may have observed, I’m not too fond of her.”
“I got that.”
“And she flat-out despises me.”
“Definitely not one of your fans.”
“But the thing is, the woman’s got guts and integrity.”
“She’s got more than that. Great eyes, an interesting face, and a very nice pair of legs.”
“Not interested.”
“No entourage?”
Coop was damned if he’d let Heath land any more digs about either his ex-girlfriends or Piper Dove. “Get the hell out of here and go see your wife.”
“I’m on my way.”
With Heath gone, Coop wandered through the kitchen into his garden, his favorite place on earth. He’d always liked growing things, and he hadn’t seen why living in a city should change that. His big, multileveled wraparound terrace had brick walls high enough to protect the