Page 70 of Hot Stuff
“He’s never let me hang out with any of his girlfriends. Not even that Krissy bitch,” she mutters.
“Oh, you didn’t like Kristina?”
A shudder wracks her. “Hell no. That’s one obvious gold-digging skank I will be forever grateful he didn’t introduce me to.”
“Hmm…I struggle to understand how they stayed together so long.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t call what they had being together.”
“You wouldn’t?”
“Hell no. He’d go over there and screw her, then leave. I’m not sure they ever spent the whole night together.”
“Really?” That bit of info hadn’t been in the PI report. Then again, Walker had already broken things off with Kristina before I initiated the investigation.
“I don’t think he’s ever spent the night with a woman.” Shelby hums as she thinks. “I’ll have to ask Gannon to be sure, but I know in college he was a one and done guy.”
The more she speaks, the more I like. Because he’s stayed with me all night.
Twice.
Walker
The media frenzy starts before my retirement announcement even leaves my agent’s office.
Mine and Oakley’s phones have been going crazy for the last hour. We’ve ignored them until now.
But as we usher Shelby out the door onto the street, the doorman helping her into the car Oakley ordered, I can see the paparazzi lining the sidewalk to the left and right as well as across the road.
“We’re going to need to deal with them,” Oakley murmurs. “It isn’t fair to everyone else who lives in the building.”
“I’ll get the doorman to call the police. See if they can move them off.”
“It might be better if we do a press conference.” She glances up at me. “Has your agent sent your press release out yet?”
“I don’t think so.” I rub a hand on my chin, the stubble scratchy. “Let me call him and we can work out what to do.”
“Let’s conference call him to sort it out. I also think you should reach out to Rafe, ask him if they want to do a joint one.”
“They said—” No,theydidn’t, Cantrell did, and after dinner last night I don’t think I can take his word when it comes to the Knights org. “You’re right. I should see what he wants to do.”
Putting a hand on her lower back I urge her toward the elevator.
“I’ll message Drake and let him know what’s going on and see when he can?—”
“Drake is right here.”
We spin around to find Drake is indeed here. “Hey.”
He’s frowning at me. “You didn’t think I should know about this?” He waves a hand between me and Oakley.
“Have I ever told you about my love life?”
“No, but you’ve never been seeing the billionaire CEO of a global sportswear company and if rumor has it”—he aims a look at Oakley that has my hackles rising—“the owner of a national sports team.”
“What rumor,” Oakley demands as I say, “Fuck!”
“Inside contacts. I do represent a number of hockey players, remember?” Drake puts his arm out. “Lead the way—the rest of this conversation needs to be out of the press’s lens shot.”
