The Professional

by Laine Stockton

  Once we pulled ourselves together, I looked down and noticed that his hand still hadn’t left my arm. He followed my gaze and quickly pulled it away. He looked out at the Reservoir, and that same brooding expression, the one he’d made on the trail, took over his features, erasing the smile and the laughter.

  “I never should have challenged you,” he said, getting quickly to his feet. His tone was dark. “Everyone knows royalty are fragile.”

  My mouth dropped open at the comment. “Fuck you,” was all I could come up with. What had happened to him? He didn’t meet my eye and then started walking toward the street, leaving me there on the grass. I stayed where I was, completely shocked by how quickly we’d gone from a good time to him being a jerk again.

  He looked around. “Are you coming?” he asked.

  I considered staying there, but my arm was starting to ache and I wanted to just go home. I stood up and stalked past him, leaving him behind as I walked toward the road. So Flynn wanted to play hot and cold. That was fine. Like I said before, it wasn’t like he was going to be staying for much longer anyway.

  * * *

  Later, scrapes bandaged and emotionally bruised by Flynn’s rejection, I called my mother to complain about him. This was as far as Alex Flynn and I went. He’d be gone tonight. I thought about how he looked laughing in the grass, shining with sweat, muscles tight and quivering with exertion. Then I saw that far away gaze and realized that he could go fuck himself. I was done.

  Mother didn’t answer her phone, Collette did, her personal assistant in Athea.

  “I need to talk to my mother,” I said, sitting down on my bed, annoyed that I needed to talk to a third party to reach my own parent.

  “Sorry, Cora,” Collette chirped. “The Princess is in a meeting, and I don’t know when she’ll be free. She’ll have to call you back.”

  I hung up without responding and threw the phone onto my bed. Of course she was too busy. It didn’t matter. In a few hours I’d hear back from her and then this whole mess would be put to rest once and for all.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Alex

  Cora stayed in her room for the rest of the day and I was glad not to be forced to be around her. I suspected she felt the same way.

  I didn’t know what happened that morning. One minute I was racing along, my heart pumping fast, blood flowing, adrenaline coursing through my veins, and the next I realized that we’d stopped running and I was still riding the high, just by keeping a hand on her leg. Her weight in my arms as I carried her from the path gave me all the excitement of running across a rooftop with a precious gem in my hands. Except this time it was a girl, warm, breathing heavily from exertion, twisting against my chest. I didn’t want to put her down, just keep running with her until we got to my apartment where I could place her amongst my treasures and never take my eyes off her.

  But I had put her down. My hand had lingered and she’d noticed. She’d looked at me, confused, wary, and the hopelessness of the situation came crashing down around me. Cora was a princess and I was a thief, a deceiver. She didn’t even know my real name, although honestly, after close to a decade, even I didn’t remember my real name. It had changed too many times, my original a reminder of a painful past best left behind. My identities had become my reality. Unfortunately, the moment I dragged another person into them, I could see that reality for what it was - a sham, transparent, as flimsy and see-through as a colored paper screen, distorting the lies but never really blocking them.

  And I knew how it felt to be sucked in. To trust someone I thought I loved with my safety, my freedom. In the darkness of my nightmares I still felt that disbelieving, sickening feeling that crashes over you when you know you’ve been betrayed, but your mind can’t quite process the horror of it yet. I’d had nine months of captivity to think it over - every sign she gave, every gut instinct I ignored. That was the true torture. Realizing that it had been my own blind devotion that had put me in there. That I had been the fool.

  And the discomfort at exposing Cora to that kind of betrayal kept me at arm’s length.

  I had to accept that she was just a girl. A beautiful, smart, headstrong girl that brought out my adrenaline for the first time in years, but a girl nonetheless. I couldn’t risk my life and career on someone who didn’t know who I really was, and I couldn’t subject her to a lifetime of distrust and regret.

  So I’d pulled back, tried to hide my attraction with a hurtful comment and stalked away.

  It’d been awkward ever since.

  But Cora was a distraction for the day. It was night and Alex the Bodyguard had to go in the closet as Alex the Thief came out to play. The Crown was my purpose here. Everything else was just keeping me from my goal.

  At midnight, the house was deathly still. The thick walls and marble floors seemed to absorb all invading sounds from the city, leaving the manor a tomb. Lights from the cars outside flashed across the windows, throwing shapes and patterns over the walls like fleeing spirits as I walked through the house. The creepiness didn’t bother me. I’d been in much more disturbing places - ancient museums, actual tombs, prison. But still, I walked with a quiet step and listened with a careful ear just in case I stumbled on something that I should be prepared for.

  I took the stairs down from the servants’ quarters, getting a lay of the land. The second and third floor were similar, filled with bedrooms and guest rooms and fancy baths. There was a small sitting room and, behind another door, I found a nursery where ancient children’s toys stared at me with glassy black eyes. I quickly shut the door. Most of the furniture was covered in sheets, long out of use. I wondered if someone would be coming to throw open the windows and run a vacuum before the royal family arrived.

  After a compulsory tour of the top floors, I moved on to my main objective: the ground level where the Crown would be displayed. I examined each room, considering the likelihood of each from a security standpoint.

  There was a dining room that could seat fifty or more, beyond it a two-story tall smoking room with a skylight and a fabulous Moorish chandelier that must be worth millions. I briefly stood in the doorway and tried to imagine exactly what kind of operation would be required to steal an object of that size and weight. Once I finished with this job, maybe I should take on a new challenge. Anyone can steal a ring or a painting - a true master gets away with something the size of a baby elephant and three times as fragile.

  A door off the smoking room led to a ballroom that dwarfed the massive dining room, again two stories, again with a skylight. I walked across the lacquered floor and imagined the parties that must have been thrown here once upon a time. It seemed a more elegant age, one I thought I would have done well in, where men and women wore formal clothes and there weren’t any security cameras to catch thieves. They also hung people for practically nothing so maybe I shouldn’t be too wistful.

  I left the ballroom through the main doors and found myself in the great hall next to the twisting staircase behind which the servants’ lift lay. I walked across the floor, toward a door leading to the other side of the house, when I felt a shift in the air and froze. Someone else was here.

  “Getting a lay of the house?”

  It was Jackie. She was standing on the main staircase, looking over the spiral at me. Her green eyes glittered, amused, in the dark. She could tell she surprised me.

  “Sure am,” I said, stepping back from the door and walking to the base of the stairs. “And what’s your excuse? Why are you even here so late?” My irritation at being snuck up on put a note of accusation in my tone.

  Jackie smiled down at me and then descended until she was standing on the second step, putting her an inch or two above me. “I’m working late. Thought I’d stretch my legs.”

  “Beautiful house,” I said.

  “But you’re used to that, aren’t you?” she said. “Protecting all those rich and famous people for so long.”

  I shrugged. “Sure, after a while the glamor fades. But
this house has a little something extra.”

  “They had expensive tastes back then,” Jackie agreed. “I’ll give them that.”

  I didn’t respond, not sure what to say. She was still standing over me and her honey-blond hair twisting over her bare shoulder caught the light in such a way that she looked like a ghost out of the past.

  “And what about you?” she asked softly.

  “What about me?”

  She walked deliberately down one step, then another, until she was at my level. Her green dress hugged flattering curves, red heels still bringing her almost to my height. “Do you have expensive tastes?”

  “I’ve been known to dabble,” I said. But I didn’t move any closer. For some reason, my thoughts jumped upstairs to where Cora was probably sitting on her bed. I pictured her reading, something heavy and philosophical. Maybe writing. Jackie moved again, another step closer, and my eyes flicked back to her green ones.

  While fucking the boss seemed as good a way as any to forcibly erase any chance of being with Cora, something felt off about the entire exchange. I couldn’t place the feeling, but I’d learned over the years to trust my judgment when it came to women. Ever since Katrina…

  I would never make that mistake again.

  I physically stepped back and the tension left the air. Jackie smiled. She didn’t seem overly disappointed that I was rejecting her advances. She continued to walk closer to me and I moved for her to pass. She slid one hand, adorned with a massive emerald ring, over my chest, and walked smoothly across the great hall and out the door, toward her office, without looking back.

  That was odd, but I pushed it from my mind. There was too much riding on this heist. I needed to stay sharp. I didn’t have time for female distraction, Jackie’s or otherwise.

  I moved on, to the right side of the house which seemed to be a fancy sitting room followed by another, smaller fancy sitting room followed by a great big fancy sitting room. Did these people really need so many options on where to sit? Jeez.

  On the other side of the great big fancy sitting room was a closed door, odd in a house where most rooms led directly into each other. I almost left it closed, assuming a closet, but just to be safe, I pulled it open and peeked inside.

  I was immediately glad I did. Behind the door was a chapel, high ceilinged with eight rows of pews on either side of a center aisle. An altar sat on a raised platform above which were the only windows, stained glass which further distorted the city light, giving the room an ethereal essence.

  This was where they’d display the Crown. I’d bet my life on it. No other room in the manor had the same majesty. I could picture the Crown, sitting on the altar, a parade of tourists lining the aisle waiting for a chance to get a look. They’d have to hurry; it wouldn’t be there for long.

  I walked around the chapel, made notes for my plan, and decided not to linger. It was getting later, and I needed to make sure I’d be up tomorrow in case Cora decided that she wanted another run, even if I was going to be an asshole. I sent a mental thanks to Jackie for warning me that Cora liked her morning excursions. The look on her face when she saw she hadn’t gotten one over on me was hilarious.

  I left the chapel, closing the door softly behind me, and immediately heard footsteps echoing off the marble floor from somewhere deeper in the house. Fuck. There was someone walking around out there. It wasn’t Jackie, the step was too heavy. Which also meant it wasn’t Cora. Then who…

  My eyes narrowed. Midas. He’d have to come to scope out the place eventually, assuming he hadn’t already. Could this be him? Was I going to be the one to catch him off guard this time? I slunk into the shadows of the large sitting room, pressed against a curio containing miniature porcelain trinkets and trying to hear through the echo to place where the sound was coming from.

  I moved closer to the doorway, keeping in the shadows, and peeked around the corner. There was a shape in the smaller sitting room, examining another display case.

  I exhaled when I saw the bulky shoulders. Fucking Scott. Well that was disappointing.

  Oh wait, Scott! Without questioning my decision, I walked as quietly as I could back toward the chapel. There was no way I was engaging with that guy right now. He was already suspicious and me sneaking around in the middle of the night wasn’t a good look.

  Once in the chapel, I realized I was only delaying the inevitable. There weren’t any good hiding places in here. He’d see me for sure if he came in. Would he believe me if I said I was praying? No, not at all.

  I scanned the room for a hiding spot I might have missed. On the other side of the door, I could hear Scott’s footsteps approaching. He was lingering in the larger sitting room, but he’d for sure take a peek inside. I’d only met him once, but I knew he wasn’t the type to cut corners.

  For lack of better options, I went to the wall next to the door and pressed myself against the wood. This was bad. He’d see me for sure.

  The door opened.

  Just then, a hand landed on my shoulder. It took all of my ability to not shout in alarm. I turned to see that the wall to the right of me had been rolled aside and behind it was Cora. She pressed a finger to her lips and gestured for me to come in.

  I’d never been more relieved to see anyone. I darted into the opening and she rolled the wall back, covering our tracks just as Scott entered the chapel.

  The passage was dark and musty, cramped too, barely enough space for the two of us as we stood, frozen, listening to Scott walk up the aisle.

  In the confines of the passage, Cora’s figure was pressed closely to mine. She smelled amazing, her hair just beneath my nose. It was exciting - the relief at the narrow escape, the continued potential for capture, the feel of her against my body. I willed myself to not get hard, positioning my crotch away from her just in case.

  She looked up at my slight movement, and I almost couldn’t meet her eyes after how I’d acted in the park. But there in the passage, so close together, I couldn’t remember exactly what it was that I was even worried about.

  We stayed there, together, looking at each other and every muscle in me wanted to lean down and kiss her, but something held me back, the memory of doubts from before.

  The slam of the door closing and Scott’s fading footsteps cut the tension in the air. She relaxed away from me and started to slide down the passage.

  “I guess I don’t have to tell you that you saved my ass,” I whispered.

  She faced away from me as she slid along. “I should have just left you,” she said, a hardness to her voice. Of course it would be stupid to just assume she’d forgotten earlier.

  “And I wouldn’t have blamed you if you had,” I said. I stopped even though there was a wooden beam jutting into my side. “Cora,” I said.

  “What?” She kept sliding, but I reached out and grabbed her hand. She flinched at the touch but didn’t pull away. She looked back at me. There was irritation in her eyes, but the anger from before was gone.

  “I was an asshole earlier. I’m sorry.”

  She blinked, opened her mouth, and then closed it. “There are cobwebs in my hair,” she said. “We need to keep going.”

  Maybe she didn’t entirely forgive me, but the hostility had left her voice.

  “What is this?” I whispered as we continued. “Are we in the wall or was this built on purpose?”

  “Can’t it be both?” she whispered back. “There’s a main passage that runs through quite a bit of the house and a few entrances and exits. Don’t worry, it’s not all this cramped.”

  Almost at her words, the passage widened slightly, at least so that we could stand normally and not have to slide. We continued until reaching a small, winding staircase that curled upward into the house.

  “It comes out in my living room,” she said.

  As we climbed, the obvious occurred to me. “Why are you awake?” I asked. “And down here?”

  “I heard you get up and I was wondering what you were up to,” she admitted.<
br />
  “You’ve been watching me?” I asked, hoping that she didn’t see my encounter with Jackie.

  “Just at the end. I saw Scott coming and decided as idiotic as you acted earlier, you didn’t quite deserve an interrogation.” Her tone was light. There was forgiveness in it.

  We emerged in the servants’ quarters, dusty and covered with a fair amount of cobwebs. Before I could think, I reached out and plucked a particularly substantial one from her hair.

  She didn’t flinch away, but her face twisted, like there was something she wanted to say but couldn’t quite voice it.

  “What is it?” I asked. She was close to me. Not as close as we were in the passage, not intimate close, not yet. I itched to take the half-step forward and close the gap.

  “You’ve never called me Cora,” she said.

  It took a moment to understand. I had used her real name, in the passage.

  I felt myself grin. “What about it?” I asked.

  “Can I call you Alex?”

  “You can call me whatever you want.” It came out low, almost a whisper, but in the still of the manor, the implications reverberated around us.

  I’d just made up my mind when a mechanical buzzzzzz broke the moment into a thousand glittering pieces. Cora bit her lip and pulled her phone out of her back pocket. She frowned at the screen.

  “You can take it,” I said, pulling myself back and out of a moment that was no longer perfect.

  “It’s just my mother calling me back,” Cora said. She shook her head, pocketed the phone. “It’s not important.”

  We were alone again, but the electricity had given way to awkwardness. She must know as well as I did that this was a bad idea. And she didn’t even know the full extent of how bad an idea it was. A pang of guilt scratched at my heart.

  “I’m going-”

  “Well, I’ll-”

  We started at the same time and then let the silence finish for us. She gave a quick nod and turned, escaping into her bedroom.

  I groaned and rubbed my face with my hands. How much longer did I have of this? I didn’t think I could survive the next week.