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alpha male, my-dick-is-bigger vibe, but I can’t figure out what.
    “When he gets back, tell him Sofie’s ready to go.” He directs the response to Sofie’s mother. “She’s not feeling well, Aunt Billi. Rip can find her outside the restrooms.”
    “She’s not coming back?” Billi Baston crinkles her blond brows. “I’ll go check on her.”
    “I don’t think there’s any need for that.” Kerris offers a kind smile. “Seems she just needed some air and time to recover, and is really tired. Maybe just send Rip back and it should be fine.”
    Something’s not right. The unease on Walsh Bennett’s face is about more than just his twin girls’ fevers.
    “I’ll see you two tomorrow, right?” Walsh splits a look between Harold and me. “Bright and early at Bennett?”
    “Yes.” Harold’s smile is a little too eager for my liking. “Nine o’clock. We’re looking forward to it.”
    Harold’s ready to move on. Do something different. Something that doesn’t keep him in third world countries half the year, with limited access to ESPN. We’ve made a helluva lot of money since we left Princeton, and he’s ready to enjoy it. I get that, but we didn’t start Deutimus primarily to make money, and that won’t be the deciding factor in why or to whom we’ll sell it. So Bennett Enterprises and any other takers can flash vulgar amounts of cash in our faces, should they choose. I’m not moved by it.
    “Did I miss the memo about the meeting, Walsh?” Ernest scowls.
    “Our assistants spoke, I believe. Celeste should have it on your calendar.” Walsh takes Kerris’s elbow. “Karma confirmed with her. We need to get home. Good night.”
    Ernest’s frown only deepens as he watches Walsh and Kerris walk away. It can’t be easy for him to see Walsh, a man half his age, taking over the company he built right alongside Walsh’s father. While I feel for the older man, I don’t much like him, and probably wouldn’t consider Bennett Enterprises at all if Walsh wasn’t at the table. For one thing, the way the man treats his daughter rubs me the wrong way.
    Speaking of…
    “I’ll be right back.” I scoot my seat back and stand.
    “Where are you going?” Harold looks at me over his spectacles like a librarian.
    “I know we’ve been friends a long time, Smith,” I say with a grin. “But I’m still not ready to go to the bathroom in pairs like girls.”
    Harold’s face reddens and he rolls his eyes.
    “I’ll be ready to leave when you get back, I think.” He spoons up some of his crème brûlée. “Henri wants to meet at seven tomorrow morning.”
    Henrietta runs a tight ship. Even now she’s back at my sister’s place in Brooklyn, prepping for tomorrow’s meetings and our trip to Cambodia. I’ve been looking forward to getting off this continent, but meeting Sofie tonight makes me wish we didn’t have this three-week interruption in our New York trip.
    “I’ll be right back.”
    Why am I seeking out Sofie? What is this about? So she’s the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen in real life. Looks count for something with me like most men, but not for everything, and from what I’ve heard, she probably doesn’t have much else to offer. But there’s this gulf between what I’ve heard and the woman I met tonight. Maybe the gulf is filled with my preconceived notions.
    I see her slumped against the wall as soon as I round the corner, shoes kicked off and wiggling her bare toes. Even witnessing her posture less than perfectly straight, perfectly erect feels like a violation of her privacy. She looks up, squinting into the semi-dark passageway. I can see her much better than she can see me.
    “Rip?” She straightens from the wall, her expression becoming annoyed when she realizes it’s not the quarterback. “You’ve got to be kidding me. How many more people have to come through here? What is this? A parade?”
    “Oh, I’m sorry for stumbling into your private boudoir.” I lean one