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“How was he talking about me?”
“I can’t say much. Privacy and all that. But he threatened to call the police on us if he didn’t talk to you. Sorry for ratting you out, babe. It’s not in my nature, but he was quite persuasive.”
She’s funny.
“Uh-huh,” I mumble.
“Things all right with him?”
“More than all right.”
“That’s what I thought. He’s a fine man… Listen. That’s not why I called you. A friend of mine took me to the Homestead-Miami Speedway today, and guess who was there?”
My knees turn into cotton balls.
I grab my dress and lean against the wall.
“Who was there?”
“Haha…”
She has such a good time while I feel like fainting.
“Your other boss. You said you were working on Wall Street. This guy is a car racer.”
“He’s not a car racer. I mean, he is, but he’s running a business.”
“Right. He is hot. With those blue-gray eyes. And broad shoulders. I was like… Is that him? My friend didn’t know what I was talking about. He’s a good racer. Made the best time. People know him. And I mean local people. There was a TV crew not far from us, and a woman interviewed him.”
“Are you sure?”
This doesn’t sound like him.
“I’m sure, girl. I saw him at the club first. It’s the same man.”
She describes his clothes, and yes, it was him. Huh.
“What time was that?”
“It was, um… We went there after lunch. He must’ve been there for some time.”
“Okay. Yeah… It was probably him.”
My jaw barely unclenches as I speak.
Kai Walker.
“He seems like a lot of fun…” she drones on, and I start to doubt we’re talking about the same person.
“What makes you say that?”
“He was laughing with a group of people.”
“Group? Like men? Women?”
“Men and women.”
“Were they like his entourage?”
