“Remy!” A tall redhead wearing what looked like a band of
gauze lassoing two Goodyear blimps threw her arms around his
neck. “I can’t believe you’re here!”

The new arrival practically knocked Harper out of the way,
pretzeled her stacked body around Remy’s, and sucked on the
Cajun’s lips like an anteater. It took him a good three and
a half seconds—but who was counting?—before he drew back.

“Have we met, chérie?”

“We have now, Jinx,” she purred. “I just wanted to welcome
you to Chi-Town. Properly.”

His mouth hardened slightly. “Well, it sure is a pleasure,
but right now I’m kind of in the middle of something, so
I’ll have to take a rain check.” His eyes flickered over the
woman’s shoulder to where Harper was sipping on her whiskey,
enjoying the show. She had a perfect view of the woman’s
tramp stamp—the positively poetic Get Some with an arrow
pointing down—along with her above-the-waistband
leopardprint thong.

Goodyear Blimps speared a look designed to put Harper six
feet under twice over and then quickly recalibrated her
smile for Remy. From her cleavage, she extracted a
(crumpled, undoubtedly sweatstained) business card and
placed it in Remy’s jeans pocket. It took a few moments to
ensure it was safely secured.

“The welcome offer is open-ended, Jinx.”

Another wince crossed Remy’s face, though Goodyear missed it
as she was too busy trying to maintain her center of gravity
on her totter toward the bar.

“ ‘The welcome offer is open-ended, Jinx ,’ ” Harper
mimicked in her most breathless gush, adding a bout of
vehement eyelash batting into the mix.

“Don’t be jealous, now, Harper. I sent her away, didn’t I?”