tucky. He's this close to buying that colt by Artful Dodger
out of Little Bit More."
"Yeah, what did he say?"
"That he's seriously thinking about it."
Angus came out of his chair, booming his approval.
"That's great news, son. That old man's a tough son of a
bitch, I've heard tell. He's a crony of Bunky Hunt's. Feeds
his horses caviar and shit like that after they win." Angus
slapped Junior on the back and ruffled his hair as though he
were three, instead of forty-three.
"However," Angus said, his frown returning, "that just
emphasizes how much we stand to lose if the racing commission
rescinds that license before the ink on it is even dry.
One breath of scandal and we're history. So, how are we
gonna handle Alexandra?"
"Handle her?"
Favoring his ailing toe, Angus hobbled toward the refrigerator
to get another beer. "We can't wish her away. The
way I see it," he said, twisting off the bottle cap, "we'll
just have to convince her that we're innocent. Upstanding
citizens." He gave an elaborate shrug. "Since that's exactly
what we are, it shouldn't be that hard to do."
Junior could tell when the wheels of his father's brain were
turning. "How will we go about that?"
"Not we--you. By doing what you do best."
"You mean--?"
"Seduce her."
"Seduce her!" Junior exclaimed. "She didn't strike me
as being a prime candidate for seduction. I'm sure she can't
stand our guts."
"Then, that's the first thing we gotta change . . . you gotta
change. Just seduce her into liking you ... at first. I'd do
it myself if I still had the proper equipment." He gave his
son a wicked smile. "Think you can handle such an unpleasant chore?"
Junior grinned back. "I'd damn sure welcome the opportunity
to try."