Hog Heaven by Ben Rehder Read Free Book Online Page A

that reached mid-thigh, four-inch heels, and a sleeveless silk blouse unbuttoned just far enough to catch the eye.
    “Thank you for flying American, Miss, uh, Babe...”
    “Babikova.”
    He grinned sheepishly. “I have to say that I really like your accent.”
    A woman behind Aleksandra released a small sigh of impatience.
    “Ah, but you are the one with the accent,” Aleksandra said.
    “Ha. I hadn’t thought of it that way. Enjoy your flight to Houston. San Antonio. I mean Austin.”
    She continued down the ramp, to the airplane door, past the female flight attendant who gave her a quick up-and-down appraisal and showed the smallest frown of disapproval. Aleksandra did not care in the least. She took her seat in the first row, beside the window. A man across the aisle stole a glance at her. Then, a few seconds later, he glanced again.
    It was possible some of the oglers recognized her. It wasn’t that long ago that she had made a career for herself as a volleyball player. It began with an Olympic silver medal and a starting position with the elite team Dinamo Moscow. Then came modeling contracts, mostly in eastern Europe, then in western Europe, and eventually here in the States, including one for a leading lingerie company. That led to a small part in an American big-budget spy thriller and appearances on various reality shows, followed by a tastefully done nude pictorial in one of the more discriminating gentlemen’s magazines.
    It had been a whirlwind, but it was all behind her now. She had suffered a career-ending knee injury, and then, for reasons her American agent could not fully explain, the offers and opportunities slowly came to an end, despite the fact that she was every bit as stunning as she had been at eighteen.
    “Your fifteen minutes of fame are up,” the agent had said with a shrug. “Remember Darva Conger? Carrie Prejean? Rebecca Loos? Those names ring a bell? Probably not. That’s how it works sometimes. Not much we can do about it. Be glad it lasted as long as it did.”
    So that was it. She was washed up, as they say, at the age of twenty-three. Then, to add insult to injury, she’d discovered that her pig-dog of an ex-husband had not only been sleeping with her longtime volleyball teammate, he had squandered the bulk of the modest fortune she had managed to amass. So she had decided it was time for a divorce, and a new start. She had immigrated to the U.S. two years earlier and begun a new chapter in her life.
    For a brief time, she worked as a reporter and commentator for a now-defunct cable sports channel. It was during this stage of her career, while researching a story about the recruitment of college football players, that she recognized a way to carve out a unique and extremely lucrative career for herself in the world of athletics. Too bad it was a serious violation of NCAA rules.
    Of course, that hadn’t stopped her.

    Kurt Milstead fit the bill for a Texas football coach. Ruggedly handsome, with blue eyes and some gray around his temples. Not overly talkative or loud, but charismatic nonetheless. Friendly. Likeable. Courteous. His players routinely said he was the kind of coach who made you feel good about yourself, so you didn’t want to let him down. You wanted to earn his approval and respect. He had a way of bringing out the best in the people around him—players and staff.
    More important than Milstead’s personality was the success he’d brought to the Blanco County High School football program since he’d arrived in town four years earlier. Turned them from a mediocre team into a contender that had gone twelve and one the previous season, ending the year with a narrow loss in the state semifinals.
    “Next year’s team will be even better,” Milstead had promised in the post-game interview at Cowboys Stadium in Arlington, unaware at the time that Sammy Beech—the core of the team—would no longer be around to carry the ball. “I hate to see my seniors go, but the