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in the discussion.

“Not in the great white north!” Eve interjected.

“Unless you’re going to use that money to build a thousand-square-mile, air-conditioned, indoor fun center for polar bears – don’t bother us Canadians with any of that bullshit.” Vicki sat back in her seat and waited for Matt’s rebuttal, but he could tell from the enthusiasm in their protests that this might be a lost cause.

“Well, I’m not going to waste time pissing into the wind on this one,” he stated. “I’m still going out there this afternoon to see some friends, so you’re still welcome.” Neither of the women bit.

After another half-hour, Matt said he’d give Eve a call later that day and went off to take a shower. When he came out of the bathroom, Eve and Vicki had cleaned up after themselves and left the suite. There was a note under his phone. See you tonight!

An hour later, after taking the subway from downtown Montreal to Notre Dame Island, the site of the 1967 World Expo, and now the home to the road racing circuit that held the F1 each June, Matt signed in at the credential booth. He found his way to the paddock and one of the teams for which he knew the owner and many of the engineers.

They had met two years earlier in Singapore when Matt was called in under the guise of being a travel writer to cover the event for Singapore Airlines magazine. In actuality, the wife of an American diplomat was rumored to be having an affair with an F1 driver, and Matt was sent to investigate. When one of the team principals, an American from Indianapolis, was arrested after an encounter with a local in a hotel bathroom, Matt had been able to step in and neutralize the situation.

A few significant blows by Matt to a knife-wielding drunk had been all it took. The punk was arrested, and the principal assured his rescuer that he would always be welcome by his team wherever they traveled.

Matt spent a couple hours in the team’s hospitality area, posing for pictures with fans who continued to mistake him for a movie star. On pit road, after mingling with celebrities as they watched the Ferraris, Mercedes, Red Bulls, and other race cars speed past them on the track, Matt thanked his host and headed for the subway. He thought he saw the now-former wife of the diplomat somewhere in the paddock, but he didn’t bother to pursue that any further. As he boarded the subway, he felt a text arrive on his phone.

We still on for tonight? What should we wear?

He smiled and texted back a few ideas. At nine o’clock that night, the ladies arrived in the town car he had sent for them. They immediately went through the hotel lobby, showed their photo IDs to security, passed through metal detectors, and then took the elevator to the rooftop bar to enjoy a party being hosted by the prime minister of Canada. Eve and Vicki had said they wouldn’t attend a racing party, but the opportunity to mingle with politicians and celebrities from the music and movie worlds intrigued them.

Eve’s gold mini-dress caught the eye of every man and woman at the party, rivaled closely by Vicki’s floral mini sundress. For Matt, he’d picked up a dress shirt and pants at a high-end store on St. Catherine Street on the way back from the track before returning to his room for a shower.

The atmosphere was festive, much like a beach party in Cabo but without the sand. The margaritas and tequila were flowing and the music of the Gipsy Kings played into the air. The weather was a perfect 70 degrees Fahrenheit with little humidity, and the noise and the hustle and bustle of downtown Montreal were 20 floors below them and far from sight.

After catching up over drinks, Matt excused himself to mingle with some of the racing people he knew and left Eve and Vicki to enjoy the event and mix with the rich and famous. The prime minister had opened the event but left just before the three arrived. It wasn’t long, though, before more fireworks began to go off.

“That guy’s a real pig!” Eve shouted, pointing at a tall man in his twenties who had just made an offensive suggestion to her.

The man, who had left his band of buddies at the bar to strike up a conversation with her, had blended back into the crowd, but she wasn’t having any part of his retreat. She walked right into the midst of the men, stopped face to face with the offender, and the two heatedly exchanged insults. Matt noticed everyone’s focus turning toward the confrontation. When he saw the gold mini-dress in the midst of it, he moved quickly to render assistance.

Eve stopped him dead in his tracks. “I can handle this!” she stated, putting her left hand to Matt’s chest as he closed in. Vicki had come up behind her and seemed prepared to help as well.

“Just here for moral support, luv.” Matt assessed the man in Eve’s sights and the crew standing with him.

As the two continued to trade insults, Matt could see that of the guy’s four friends, only one might be an issue. He was an alpha, the type always ready to fight at the drop of a hat, and already amped on energy drinks, white powder, or both. The rest were followers and would run or back down if challenged, but only if the alpha was put down first. If anything were to go down, he decided he’d let Eve take the lead if she truly did have what it took.

Her person of interest was, from what Matt could see and hear, a rich punk who would always rely on his friends or his family’s money when his mouth or his hands got him into hot water. Matt kept his focus on the alpha until he noticed Vicki’s attention suddenly shift to something behind him.

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