In his defense, all four of those relationships had been with stars who were brainy as well as beautiful. He liked whip-smart, successful women who also happened to be heart-stoppingly beautiful. What man didn’t? And being an NFL quarterback gave him access to the cream of the crop. Now, however, all his laser-sharp attention was focused on growing a nightclub empire. Women brought too much drama, too much press, and too damned much perfume. If he was quarterback of the world, he’d outlaw the stuff. Women should smell like women.

Esmerelda hadn’t worn perfume, and with all her disguises, who knew what her hair looked like? But there was that interesting face and those shapely legs. Still, the whole episode was making the back of his neck itch exactly the same way it did right before he got blindsided.

***

Piper jerked off her wig and drove home from Spiral with one desperate scheme after another churning through her head. A different approach. A better disguise. But it wouldn’t take him long to see through both. If she didn’t come up with something quickly, she’d be on a one-way street back to a computer job in a cubicle, something she couldn’t abide thinking about. Her last job as a digital strategist for a local chain of auto parts stores had been interesting at first, but after the second year, boredom had begun to set in, and by the fifth year, she’d found herself dreaming of a zombie apocalypse.

Her father had denied her the career she was born for, working with him at Dove Investigations—or even working with one of his competitors, something he’d made certain didn’t happen. Everybody in the country knew him, and Duke Dove had put out the word. “Anybody who hires my little girl to do any investigating that doesn’t involve stayin’ at her computer is gonna have to deal with me.”

But Duke was dead, and she owned the business he hadn’t wanted her to have—the business she’d paid far too much to buy from her stepmother only to discover too late that Duke’s client list was woefully out-of-date, and her stepmother’s bookkeeping practices were, if not outright fraudulent, the next closest thing. Piper had bought little more than a name, but the name was precious to her, and she wouldn’t give up without the fight of her life.

By the time she fell asleep, she’d made up her mind. She was going to stick with barmy Esmerelda Crocker and hope for the best.

The next morning, she showered, slipped into jeans and a T-shirt, and ran her fingers through her wet hair—no need for a wig. After she’d grabbed her coffee and a slice of three-day-old pizza, she set out.