“Catherine’s worked with several Rogues,” Zen continued. “She has the ability to recognize opportunities before anyone else. Her honesty draws clients. Cat’s known for keeping confidences and connecting prime properties with secure investors.”
A half smile curved as Zen said, “She’s beefed up Psycho’s and Romeo’s portfolios with strong stock options. Psycho’s put his returns into Psycho Choppers, custom-built motorcycles. Romeo’s bought into a bagel franchise.”
The locker room had buzzed with the players’ latest ventures. Law hadn’t realized Catherine May had secured their futures after baseball. The lady had skills.
Zen ended their meeting with, “My wife admires Cat and I plan to make her a partner later this year. Keep it professional, Law.”
“I’ve no plans—”
“You were a human tripod,” Zen accused.
Shit. “She touched me,” he said in his own defense.
“She took your Ziploc.” Pause. “Don’t take her heart.”
“I’ve no intention—”
Lavender and lilac wafted toward them, indicating Catherine May had returned. Law pushed to his feet, turned, and found her standing in the doorway, her arms piled with files.
He crossed to her. “Let me take those for you.”
“I’m capable—”
“I’m polite.”
She relented. The transferring of files went poorly. He slipped his hand over the stack and his knuckles brushed the top of her breast. Soft crossed his mind as sparks shot between them. She immediately jumped back, leaving Law to juggle the stack. He barely kept the papers from spilling from the folders.
Damn. He looked at Cat; her expression was as flustered as it was frightened. He understood her embarrassment, but what scared her? She appeared to fear him, which was crazy. He wasn’t Freddie Krueger.
“Ready to go?” he asked.
“As ready as I’ll ever be,” she said under her breath.
Outside on the sidewalk, late-afternoon shadows crept across his shoes and up his pant legs. Patterns of light decorated Cat’s ankles and calves.
Cradling the files under one arm, Law reached into his pocket for his roll of Life Savers. He offered Cat tropical pineapple. Palm up, she allowed him to roll back the wrapper, then drop the candy onto the flat of her hand. There was no touching this time around.
He popped an orange candy into his mouth as they walked to his car. He pressed the button on his key-chain and opened the passenger door for Cat.
“Let me remove the items on the floor mat,” he was quick to say. He settled the folders behind the seat in a small luggage compartment, then snagged the bottled water and athletic shoes. The Lasso of Truth was the last to go.
He caught Catherine’s eye as he wound the lariat into a golden loop and slid it in the storage space. She’d bitten down on her bottom lip, raking its fullness. Her breath rattled as though she was having a panic attack.
“The lasso belongs to Wonder Woman,” he attempted to reassure her. “I’m not into whips, chains, handcuffs, or kink.”
He sensed that she didn’t believe him. He felt her shiver as she slid by. Once seated, she belted in. Law scratched his jaw. He didn’t understand her unease. Most women would have laughed off his comment on the lasso, yet Cat kept one eye on the coil as if it were a snake ready to strike.
He rounded the hood and eased in beside her. “Restaurant of your choice?” he asked.
“Someplace quiet where we can spread out the files and talk.”
He knew of such a place. His penthouse.
He started the Bugatti and power hummed, raw and untamed. He suddenly found himself as hyped as the engine and incredibly horny. He debated a midnight booty call. A quick text and a willing woman would warm his bed.
The thought died a quick death. Wonder Woman still claimed his brain. And charming Catherine May into trusting him was a priority tonight. Damn, she was distant. Cat needed to chill.
He eased the sports car into traffic and took the long way home through downtown Richmond instead of the interstate. It was the dinner hour and people were congregating at countless restaurants. Couples and groups entered sushi bars and steak houses. Some chose fast food.
Beside him, Cat breathed easier. She’d settled deep into the gray leather seat, her gaze on the city lights and activities. Her profile was lovely, classic, and calm. Wisps of her blond hair curved against her cheekbone and chin. Her hands were folded in her lap, her fingers no longer fidgety. She’d crossed her legs, the hem of her skirt inching up just a little.
The digital clock showed six thirty as he pulled into the underground parking lot of the Richmond Grace, the oldest hotel in the city. There had been renovations over the years, yet the setting still embodied a feeling of pedigree and opulence. Old Hollywood, European royals, and world leaders had passed through its revolving doors. It was the place to stay, and reservations were often taken for a week or a month.
Heir to the Grace hotel chain, Law reserved by the year. He had a penthouse suite that encompassed an entire floor. His grandfather resided there, too, in a suite in a separate wing. Heritage allowed Law to live a quiet, private life away from the ballpark. He valued the luxury and escape.
While Randall Burton Lawless would have preferred that his grandson take a more active role in the family hotel business, Law was a physical animal. His high energy and God-given talent for baseball had landed him in professional sports. He’d never regretted his career choice.
To please Randall, Law familiarized himself with the hotels during the off-season. In exchange, his grandfather watched all his games. Randall was a man who understood the value of details. He could discuss any given play with the insight and wisdom of a seasoned veteran. Randall could have been a sportscaster.
No more than a few seconds passed before a valet runner claimed his Bugatti at the guard gate. “No zero-to-sixty on the ramp, Jay,” Law reminded the young man.
Jay nodded, shamefaced. “Never again, sir.”
Two nights earlier, security cameras had caught the teenager hauling ass on the inclines. Personnel had been ready to fire the kid when Law requested that Jay be given a second chance. The teen was grateful.
Law waited while Jay assisted Catherine from the passenger side. She was all soft scent and fluid grace. Her hair was glossy, her figure gorgeous. Jay had the balls to wink at Law. Law let it pass.