Cat listened as Law refused all three. “I’m fine. My headache’s gone and my vision’s cleared.” He looked down at Bouncer. “Has he had his walk?”
Walter nodded. “The hotel dog walker took him to Lockland Park. Apparently Bouncer has several playmates there. According to Alice, he’s smitten with a champagne French poodle named Peek-a-Boo Pom-Pom.”
Law cut Bouncer a look. “A poodle, huh?”
“Pom-Pom’s a registered purebred and impeccably groomed,” Walter went on to say. “She’s a bit standoffish with Bouncer.”
“You’ll win her over, big guy.” Law voiced his confidence in the boxer. “We’re headed to a doggy day spa tomorrow. A bath, a little T-bone cologne, and Pom-Pom will be chasing your tail.”
Bouncer barked as if he understood every word.
Cat silently wished the boxer luck in his courtship.
“Your mail is laid out on your desk,” Walter added. “Revelle Sullivan from player promotions called. You have a commercial shoot tomorrow at four at Mazzo Jacuzzis. She suggested you buy a Speedo.”
Cat’s eyes went wide. She’d rubbed against Law at Haunt. A Speedo would be too small, too tight, for this man. He’d poke out.
“No Speedo,” Law said. “I’m going with black boardshorts.”
Catherine was aware of Revelle and her affiliation with the Rogues. Zen Driscoll spoke highly of her. Game’s On connected players with lucrative ad campaigns. Whether promoting car dealerships, dog biscuits, or organic cereal, the players built their names within the community as well as worldwide.
Cat was inordinately relieved that Law’s commercial would capture no more than his chest. His very broad, solid chest.
“I signed with Mazzo Jacuzzis for two television commercials,” Law explained to her. “The owner, Harold Mazzo, wanted more than the typical ad of a man with blond arm candy, sipping a can of beer. I’ve tested the Hotsy Twelve, and the heat, blast of the jets, and swirling water revive every muscle after nine innings of play. I had one installed in my personal gym. It’s an honest endorsement.”
“One final notation,” Walter wrapped up. “Revelle sent an e-mail reminder about the Chalk Walk and Great St. James Canoe Race. I posted the dates on your calendar.”
Again, Law included Cat. “If you’re not familiar with the events, they’re both awesome. In late July, the Chalk Walk brings ballplayers together with the community. Fans pay big money to produce colorful chalk pictures alongside their favorite Rogue on the sidewalk in downtown Richmond. We draw on the same block as Driscoll Financial. Viewers donate a few dollars to vote for their favorite drawing. All proceeds go to cancer research.”
Law grinned, his dimples deep. “Last year, Psycho McMillan won first prize. He was paired with a college art student. The girl had drawn an intricate Civil War battlefield: officers on horseback, bayonets and cannon fire, fallen soldiers. Psycho managed to color between the lines.”
Cat had met Psycho. Macho, handsome, arrogant. He lived to win, whether the competition was chalk drawings or the World Series.
“The Great St. James Canoe Race is a wild time,” Law continued. “It’s in early September, and the Rogues paddle the river for Homes of Hope, houses built for single mothers. Both events are for great causes. I participate as often as I can.”
Walter looked at the boxer. “Shall I schedule a dog walker this evening, sir?”
“Bouncer and I need some guy time,” Law stated. “We’ll take a jog around the park before bed.”
“Be sure to take security.”
“I’ve got Bouncer.”
“It will be late and dark when you jog. Randall prefers Maxim and Lynx to be at your side.”
Law shook his head. His grandfather would always see him as a kid, no matter his age or accomplishments. He could live with that. The hotel kept six bodyguards on retainer. Many of their high-profile vacationers requested protection.
“Fine,” Law agreed.
“Will you require dinner service?” Walter asked finally.
Law deferred to Cat. “Most nights when the Rogues play at home, I have my meals sent up from Beauvais, the hotel restaurant. Chef Amaury prepares both French and American cuisine. My dining room table is long, so you can spread out the file folders. We’ll keep it all business.”
“Works for me,” Cat agreed.
“Shall I place your orders before I depart?” offered Walter, as he shifted his stance, straightening his tie.
“Catherine will need a menu—”
“I’ll let you order for me tonight,” she assured Law. Walter appeared antsy to leave and Cat didn’t want to hold him up further. This was Law’s family hotel. He would know the best items on the menu.
“Very well, sir.” Walter turned to leave. “Have a good evening.”
“Walter—”
The assistant paused with one foot out the door.
“Any word on the lost lasso?”
“I contacted twelve costume shops today,” Walter responded. “Unfortunately, no one had rented a Wonder Woman outfit. I’ll begin calling again in the morning.” With a nod of his head he was gone.
Cat’s heart seized. Her disguise had been rented outside the city limits. She’d have to swear the shop owner to secrecy until she could retrieve the Lasso of Truth and return the costume in one piece.
Silence collected, then lengthened between them, broken only by the click of Bouncer’s nails on the foyer’s onyx marble tiles as the big dog made two circles, then lay down.
“Your assistant appears very dedicated in his search for the owner of the lasso,” she finally managed.
Law shoved his hands in his pockets and leaned his shoulder against the wall—a man very low-key and comfortable in his skin. “We’ve worked together for eight years now. He knows what’s important to me and makes it a top priority.”
“I’m sure you’ll find your Wonder Woman.” Somehow she managed to keep her voice even.
“She’s not mine,” Law confessed. “Just someone I met in costume and would like to meet in person.”
Cat purposely changed the subject. “Walter works from your penthouse?” she asked.
Law nodded. “His office is next to mine.” He shot her a self-deprecating grin and ruefully admitted, “Early in my baseball career, I employed young, unqualified women. I doubt many knew the alphabet and none could type. They were desk dressing, nothing more. Time and again I missed phone messages, interviews, and business appointments. It was my fault for hiring them, but damn frustrating nonetheless.