“Yes, ma’am.”

“Does he ever give you any stock tips?”

It was Jeffrey’s turn to laugh, and his brown eyes crinkled up at the corners. “Wouldn’t that be something?”

“My 401(k) could sure use the help.” Jenny spotted Emily across the dance floor in Cole’s arms. In her ultrahigh heels, they were nearly nose to nose. Her expression looked tense, her movements stiff, and Jenny couldn’t help but wonder what was wrong.

“My salary’s just fine,” said Jeffrey. “But I expect my career to be short.”

Jenny’s attention went back to Jeffrey. “You do? Is something wrong?”

“I’m going by the mathematical odds. It’s tough out there.”

Jenny cringed reflexively in sympathy, remembering some of the hits Jeffrey had received in the game. She leaned in. “Are you in pain?”

“I’m always in pain. But that’s not the same as being injured.” He nodded toward the perimeter tables. “Now, Mitch there. He’s injured. And his physiotherapy regime is brutal.”

Jenny glanced sideways to where Mitch stood in a group of other players. He gazed intently at her, with what looked like anger simmering in his darkened eyes.

She missed a step, but Jeffrey quickly caught her, tugging her close. “Whoa, there, missy.”

“Sorry,” she breathed, refocusing her attention. What on earth was the matter with Mitch now?

Four

Mitch watched from the sidelines at the Moberly Club, while out on the dance floor Jeffrey flirted with Jenny. Though he knew she was too smart to be taken in by Jeffrey’s smooth talk, he was tempted to warn her away from the man. Or maybe he should order Jeffrey to stay away from her. It might be his responsibility to make it clear, in no uncertain terms, that Jeffrey was to stay well away from his assistant.

He straightened away from bar, intending to do just that.

“Well, hello, stranger.” A tall, leggy blonde sidled up to him.