Page 14 of Lucky Puck

It’s her—the showgirl from last night. I almost don’t recognize her because she’s wearing sunglasses and is dressed in jeans and a t-shirt. She’s no less gorgeous with her tall slim bikini-model figure showing to perfection. I find my speech box and she smiles in recognition.

“It’s you,” I say. Not my most poised greeting. “I mean, who are you?”

“I’m looking for Brody,” she says. “Have you seen him?” She gives me a sly smile as if she knows I’ve seen him—all of him, every last glorious naked speck of him.

“Yes, but he’s not here.” I grab her arm. “I need to talk to you. It’s important. Brody wants me to ask you a few questions.” Her look tells me she knows exactly what I’m talking about.

“I don’t know,” she hesitates. But I take her arm and guide her a few steps in the direction of my room. “Brody’s room is that way.” She turns to the other end of the hallway.

“He’s not there. Who are you?”

She huffs. “My name is Tammi Morrow.”

“Why did you put a wedding band on Brody’s hand?”

Her eyes go wide and she glances up at what looks like a light, but I’m pretty sure it’s a hotel security camera.

“Let’s talk in your room.”

When we get to my room, as soon as we’re inside, she says, “I need my ring back.”

I collapse into a chair, more confused than ever, but confident that she’s not going to bolt. Also, I’m optimistic that I may actually make it to the game in time with the mystery of the showgirl resolved.

Before I can respond, the room phone rings. Bigelow.

I pick up the receiver and face away from the still unidentified woman. “Yes?”

“It’s Bigelow. I got a picture of the woman in question and I know her. Your hunch that she’s a showgirl was correct.”

His news is anticlimactic now that the woman is standing here in my room, but I try to muster some appreciation. “Great. Come up to my room right away.”

I hang up the phone and turn to her.

“Who was that? I don’t want any trouble⁠—”

“Don’t worry. It’s the hotel concierge. Ironically, he was trying to help me find you.”

“Well, here I am. Now if you don’t mind, I’d like my ring back.”

“What makes you think I have it?”

She gives me a smirk like we have some kind of inside joke. “You were all over him last night. If I didn’t snag him first, you would have been the one spending the night with him.”

My face heats up and I know it’s crimson, so I turn toward the door as if I can see through it. I don’t know what to say to her that would convince her she’s wrong, and what I really want to do is ask her if she was serious about the offer of a threesome, but I don’t.

A knock at the door rescues me from having to defend my honor, and I leap to answer it.

It’s Bigelow. “What’s she doing here?” he whispers.

I pull him aside, halfway into the bathroom. “What’s her name?”

“Tammi Morrow. How did you--”

“I ran into her and invited her in.”

“I’m surprised she’s the one because I’ve seen her at the hotel before with her boyfriend.”

“He’s her fiancée. It was his ring that she put on Brody’s finger. Her fiancée gave it to her when they were supposed to get married, and they broke up instead.”