Turned out, though, that the acting and modeling stuff had helped her in the long run. She’d been homeschooled by a qualified teacher, and she was way ahead of her public school educated colleagues. Hence the amazing scores on the standardized college admission tests.
She was always bright. But even her intelligence couldn’t make an actress out of her. She didn’t have that kind of talent, and she just wasn’t interested. She wanted more. She wanted to help others. What better way than to become a physician? A healer? She dreamed of bringing new lives into the world, so she’d already decided that when—not if—she made it to medical school, she’d specialize in obstetrics.
Her mother was against Smith.
Her mother was against a career in medicine.
But the girl was eighteen. She could make her own decisions. Her own choices.
Her first choice was to leave acting and modeling behind.
No more auditions.
No more dieting.
No more dance classes.
Though she’d actually enjoyed the dance classes. She was a capable dancer, and she’d reaped the benefit of the hard work for the last ten years. Her body was toned and muscled.
But she just wouldn’t have time for dancing as she embarked on her new life.
Her brief foray into modeling had given her a lovely wardrobe, and she packed all of her clothes into her car for the road trip to Smith.
Her mother refused to go with her. Refused even to co-sign on her student loans.
No problem. She’d get deferments until she was done with school altogether, and as a physician, she’d be able to pay off the loans in a reasonable amount of time.
She and her mother said their goodbyes. There was no hug. No handshake, even.
Just a goodbye.
They both seemed okay with that.
The girl drove herself into the city. She’d been there many times before, to meet with agents, but she’d never done the tourist thing.
She wanted to visit the Statue of Liberty, the Metropolitan Museum of Art, Ground Zero, the MOMA—so she allotted herself three days in Queens in the only hotel she could afford, and she learned the subway system to see her heart’s desire.
She ate the best bagel she’d ever tasted at a deli. Okay, maybe it was the best because at least five years had passed since she last ate a bagel. Still, it was delicious with the smear of cream cheese and the zing of poppy seeds.
She ate a hot dog from a street vendor. Then a slice of New York-style pizza.
She laughed, knowing what any agent—or her mother—would say about these treats.
Didn’t matter. That was her old life.
This was the new.
She was exhausted after her first day of tourism. She’d walked miles and miles and breathed in all she could of the beautiful culture of New York.
She perused her guidebook and made plans for the next day, and then she snuggled into the lumpy bed in the cheap room filled with cheap seventies furnishings, and fell into a deep sleep.
When she woke up, she was in the fight of her life.
6
Reid
Nieves sipped her third martini. I’d ordered another scotch, but each time I brought it to my lips I feigned drinking. Age-old game of getting your adversary drunk so he’d talk. I was good at it.
I’d learned from the best.
Not that I considered Nieves an adversary. Not yet, at least. I still didn’t know how her sister was involved in all this, but tonight I’d find out.
If I had to fuck her to get the intel, I would.
No sweat off my back.
“Tell me about your sister’s doctor,” I said. “Dr. Manfred.”
She rolled her eyes. “Manny? That slimy guy? I wouldn’t let him near my pussy.”
I smiled, holding back a chuckle. “Why?”
“Have you met the man?”
“I have, actually. I’ve checked him out. He’s in good standing with the Montana Medical Board. He was at the top of his class in med school.”
“Where’d he go to med school? Guatemala?”
“University of Virginia, actually. Quite a good school.”
“He couldn’t get into Harvard, huh?”
I laughed this time. “Without connections, it’s almost impossible to get into Harvard Med School. But his undergrad record was excellent. He was a great candidate for any med school.”
“So?”
“So he’s a capable doctor, which doesn’t jibe with your dislike of him.”
“He’s just…slimy.”
“Meaning…” I knew exactly what she meant. He wasn’t tall and good-looking. I wanted her to say it. Why? I wasn’t sure.
“Meaning, my body, my choice. I don’t want him near my pussy.”
Okay, she wasn’t biting. Fair enough. Time to try another tactic. “Apparently your sister only went to him once.”
“Did she?” Nieves stared down at her nearly empty third drink.
“Her previous physician was a Dr. Isabel Caleb.”
“She’s good. I’ve gone to her.”
“If she’s good, why would Leta switch to Dr. Manfred?”
“I don’t know. I’m not my sister’s keeper.” Again, staring into her now-empty martini glass.
“It’s puzzling, don’t you think?” I took another fake drink of my scotch.
Nieves met my gaze. “The only thing puzzling is why we’re not hitting the sheets yet.”
I smiled—that devilish grin that no lady could resist. “Oh, we will. But I find anticipation makes it even better.” I signaled the barkeep. “Another for the lady.”
The still-blushing bartender slid another dirty martini in front of Nieves. She daintily took a sip.
“How did Leta know that Rock had left Montana?” I asked.
Nieves kicked off one of her stilettos and slid her bare foot underneath my pants, rubbing her toes against my ankle. “I don’t know.”
Oddly, I wasn’t getting turned on. I still enjoyed a woman who was a challenge, and Nieves Romero clearly didn’t fall into that category. Partially my fault. I’d gotten her drunk. Alcohol, the great social lubricant. Not that Nieves needed any lubricant. Of any kind.
But Nieves hadn’t been a challenge back in Manhattan either, and I’d been sloppy seconds after she couldn’t seduce Rock away from Lacey.
That night, I hadn’t cared. I’d been horny, and she’d been available.
Tonight, though? She wasn’t appealing to me.
Damn Rock and his ill-timed phone call. If I hadn’t answered, I’d be doing the horizontal tango with Ms.
