The lady looked at Sam as if she was a complete idiot, an expression she was all too familiar with. “Mugwort herb, not oil,” the woman said.
From behind them, a man cleared his throat. “Did someone say mugwort?”
Sam glanced over her shoulder at him and realized that he was the guy who’d paid her tab at the café, the man she’d spilled her coffee on.
He retrieved a glass jar from the highest shelf.
“Thank you,” she said.
One corner of his mouth lifted in a subtle grin as he set the jar down next to the register.
Had he followed her? He was too handsome and well-dressed to be a weirdo or a stalker. Not that she’d personally known any of either variety. Heck, criminals could be handsome, couldn’t they? She’d seen a story on the news about a man out west who got a modeling contract based on his jail booking photo.
Slipping behind the counter, she covertly opened the drawer where Emma had always kept a knife. When she glimpsed a flash of silver from the drawer, she drew a relieved breath; although she was ninety-nine percent sure the man was harmless.
The customer set her purse on the counter and fished out her wallet. “I don’t have all day, miss.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Sam keyed in the prices on the cash register. “That’ll be nine-sixty.”
The woman handed her a ten. “I don’t have my glasses with me. Would you please read me the back of the label on the essential oil bottle? I want to be sure I’m getting the right one.”
Sam held the tiny bottle close to her face and read the tiny print. “Sweet, floral ylang-ylang is a natural aphrodisiac.”
Hot guy waggled his eyebrows at the older woman, but luckily she was checking out the jewelry in the display. When he met Sam’s stare, amusement shone in his eyes.
Sam held back a chuckle and continued reading the label. “Use in aromatherapy to relieve anxiety and tension. Associated with the heart chakra. Helps to bring emotional balance and self-love.”
“Sound like great stuff,” the man said. His grin widened when he shifted his gaze to Sam. “No aphrodisiac needed for me.”
Warmth rose in her cheeks.
“Smells nice, too,” the woman said.
Sam packed the customer’s purchases in a bag along with her receipt and handed it to her. “Have a good day.”
“Can you direct me to the best essential oils for relaxation?” the redhead asked Sam.
“Um, sure,” Sam replied. Did Aunt Emma have a cheat sheet somewhere? A guide to what herbs and oils were for? A quick search behind the counter didn’t turn up anything helpful.
“Lavender is supposed to be good for that,” hot guy offered. “And chamomile. Together, they’ll knock out even the most hyper person.”
The redhead closed the distance the man and gave him a sultry grin that made Sam’s gut clench. Which was totally ridiculous. Sam wouldn’t give a hoot if every woman in town flirted with him. Why should she? She had no interest in him. Zero.
“I’m glad someone here is knowledgeable,” the young woman stage-whispered to the man. “This isn’t the only metaphysical shop in town, after all.”
To his credit, hot guy ignored the woman’s comment. She shrugged then headed to the herb section.
Sam threw the man a grateful smile.
“I’ll take these.” The redhead set two bags of herbs on the counter.
Sam rang her up and tried for a polite—if not warm—thank you. “Come back and see us.”
The woman rolled her eyes as she took her bag.
The moment the lady was out the door, the man turned to Sam. “I’ve finally gotten you alone.”
Was he just flirting with her? Or were his intentions sinister?
Chapter Two
What the hell was wrong with him? Worst thing he could do was to frighten or embarrass the poor woman. Bad enough that he was going to have to steal from her. He needed to gain her trust, and fast, yet she was backing away from him, blinking like a terrified child. She escaped behind the counter, her expression stiff and guarded.
He tried his best, most charming smile, but she didn’t budge.
Her throat twitched with a swallow, and he couldn’t help but notice her long, lovely neck. She folded her arms over her chest. “What do you mean by that?”
He’d planned to quickly gain her trust, find out where she had the brooch then disappear from her life. Unfortunately, she wasn’t going to be the pushover he’d hoped. He knew way more than he should about Samantha Cartwright. Although certain things hadn’t been included in the file he’d been given, he’d quickly ascertained that she had little self-confidence. Which baffled him, because not only was she a talented artist, but she was also so much prettier than her photo. With her thick mass of long auburn waves and the fire in her deep blue eyes, he couldn’t believe that she didn’t have a boyfriend or husband lurking about.
Raising his arms in surrender, he took a backward step to set her at ease. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you or come on too strong. It’s just that…the moment we crashed into each other at the café, I felt an instant connection with you. I was hoping you had, too.” When she didn’t say anything, he continued. “I’m Eli. And apparently, I suck at reading signals.”
She held her ground…and her tongue.
He had to wonder if the information he had on her was valid. In a floral-pattern peasant dress, five-dollar sandals, and a bunch of cheap bangles and beaded bracelets on each wrist, she hardly appeared the kind of woman who’d turn down an opportunity to sell a valuable gem. He’d never been a fan of the bohemian look, but on her, it worked. There was no denying that she was gorgeous, nor that she was completely unaware of her beauty. The only makeup she wore was a little pink lip-gloss. Her features didn’t need any enhancement. Her skin was peaches and cream fresh, and those long eyelashes showed off her eyes better than the war paint most women wore. After two days of following her, he’d only seen her from afar, until a little while ago. This close to her, he could appreciate the sprinkling of freckles across her cheeks and the way her hair shone in the light.
No, he refused to let a pretty face distract him from his mission. Going town to town—Las Vegas, Reno, Atlantic City—he’d seen his share of beauties. One- or two-night stands were his MO. Sam was the antithesis of the type of woman with whom he kept company. He’d always gone for Park Avenue rather than Greenwich Village. Besides, he planned to get the heck out of dodge the moment he got his hands on that sapphire brooch. The sooner he had the trinket and delivered it to Diaz, the sooner he and his sister would be safe.
“Honestly, I just came over here to offer to pay for your dress since I ruined it.” He swept a hand through the air. “You looked pretty overwhelmed when I came in here so I figured I could be of help.”
Her flinch was subtle. Picking up on such things was how he’d been able to make a living at card games. Well, until recently, when a string of bad luck had culminated in that high-stakes poker game where he’d been dead wrong about Diaz’s hand. If only he could go back and replay it. But he couldn’t. All he could do now was capitulate. Diaz had made that abundantly clear. If he failed, the shark’s henchmen would do a lot worse than break Eli’s ribs as they had a few days ago. There was no way he’d put his sister in danger. Lizzy had been through enough.
Unfortunately, Eli was way out of his element. He was a gambler, after all, not a criminal. As soon as he completed the task Diaz had given him, though, a bona fide criminal was exactly what he’d be. Lizzy would be so disappointed in him if she ever found out. She’d given him a college education in hopes that he’d stay on the straight and narrow, something she hadn’t been able to do. But the working-stiff life hadn’t appealed to him.
Illegal activities had never been his thing, though—nothing more than poker tournaments and the occasional private, high-stakes game. Until now. He had no choice but to do the job because he couldn’t afford the consequences. Period.
“Someone will be here soon
to help me.” Sam squared her shoulders but lowered her gaze. He’d seen similar contradictory body language more than once at gaming tables. “My…boyfriend, Big Bruno,” she said.
Eli held back a laugh at her bluff. She was a lousy liar, but the fact that she’d felt the need to conjure up an imaginary boyfriend confirmed that she was leery of him. And for good reason. “Big Bruno,” he repeated. “Sounds like a scary guy. I’d hate for him to get the wrong impression about us.”
“And what would that be?” She bit her lip.
“That there’s some chemistry bouncing around between us.” He gave her his most charming grin.
A rosy flush crawled up her neck, and settled on her cheeks. “I don’t think so.”
Shrugging, he gave the store a final glance. “My bad. Guess I should leave before he gets here.”
“Probably. He’s very protective of me.”
Starting toward the door, he stuck his hand in his jacket pocket and fingered his good luck poker chip, the very first he’d won. He wasn’t ready to fold yet.
“Thanks for the croissant,” she said.
Her words gave him a modicum of hope that the story he’d made up had worked. But she wasn’t sold yet. Without facing her, he waved. “Don’t mention it.”
Three, two, one…
“Hey,” she called. “I’m Samantha. Sam.”
“Have a nice life, Samantha,” he said over his shoulder as he grasped the doorknob.
“I didn’t mean to be rude.” She sighed. “I’m not used to people doing nice things for me.”
Turning around, he glimpsed the vulnerability in her expression. Shouldn’t bother him, but it did. He dropped her gaze for a moment. “Then you deserve to be treated better.” A lot better than the way he planned to do her.
She shook her head. “Not really.”
His gut clenched.
I have to do this.
A middle-aged couple came in, followed by two young women.
Sam slipped behind the counter and rubbed the bridge of her nose.
Eli returned to the counter and kept his voice low. “You know, I don’t mind helping you here for a little while.”
Her expression registered interest for a moment. Too quickly, she frowned. “I can’t ask you to do that. We don’t even know each other.”
The opportunity to get close to her was like a neon sign beckoning him to go for it, and not only because he needed that sapphire. In truth, he’d been drawn to her from the moment he’d seen her through his binoculars. Her earthy attractiveness was so unusual, so sensual. He didn’t want to have to steal from her, but what choice did he have?
She’d eventually get over the loss. If he didn’t do what Rodrigo Diaz wanted him to, the son of a bitch would surely follow through on his threat to cut off Eli’s hand, and maybe even go after Lizzy. No way could he put his sister in that bastard’s crosshairs. He’d already let Lizzy down enough.
Squashing the stab of guilt jabbing his insides, he waved off Sam’s objections. “How can you say we don’t know each other? We shared a cup of coffee, did our laundry together.” He winked at her. “Sort of.”
That earned him a chuckle, but before she could say anything, the door chime rang, and a young brunette came in. She glanced around for a few seconds, then peered toward the back of the store. “Is Emma doing a reading?”
Sam shook her head. “She’s not here. Can I help you?”
The brunette pursed her lips, pulled a crinkled piece of paper out of her purse, and handed it to Sam. “I need all those items. Except for the sandalwood oil. I’ve got that.”
Sam furrowed her brow as she stared at the paper, but Eli didn’t offer his assistance. Better to give her time to realize how much she needed him. When her gaze drifted to him, he was sure she was about to fold. Until she touched her finger to the sheet. “White sage,” she read. “That should be on the bottom shelf.” She went to get it.
“One of the large bundles,” the customer said. “I just moved, and I need to smudge my new place.”
Sam smiled at her, clearly a little relieved. Until she returned her attention to the woman’s list. Her throat twitched with a swallow. “Um, let’s see—lavender, feverfew, diatomaceous earth …”
“Miss,” a male customer called to Sam. Do you have any polished shungite?”
Sam blinked several times, which was one of her tells. Clearly, she was overwhelmed. “I-I’m not sure.”
Unable to bear Sam’s discomfort another second, Eli covertly checked the other customer’s list. “Want me to get the lavender and the feverfew down for you?”
Sam gave him a slight nod. “I’d appreciate that.”
Reaching to a high shelf for the purple buds, his sore ribs reminded him of his mission. “I’ll get the diatomaceous earth, Sam. I see it up on the top shelf.”
“Thank you.” While she fetched the crystal for the woman, Eli rechecked the customer’s list and rounded up the other items.
Sam rang up both orders, and Eli bagged them.
After the customers left, Sam exhaled loudly. “Wow, thank you so much. I don’t know what I would have done without you.”
His gut tightened as he shrugged off her gratitude. “How are you going to manage here for the rest of the day? Well, assuming that Big Bruno doesn’t show.”
Another blush bloomed on her cheeks. “I kind of…made that up.”
Chuckling, he took a few steps toward her. “Really? I’d have never guessed.” He grabbed his phone out of his pocket and opened the calendar app for effect. “I have some time now. I could stay for a while.”
Her pretty eyes brightened and the wariness that had been there earlier vanished. “You’d do that?”
It was the least he could do, considering he planned to rob her of the brooch and hand it over to Diaz. “Let’s just say that someone did me a solid once. I don’t mind at all.”
In truth, no one had ever done anything kind for him, not without expectations. Well, except for Lizzy. Which was why he couldn’t let her down, or let her find out how far he’d fallen.
He had to get that jewel. Yet looking into Sam’s innocent eyes, part of him wished that she’d throw him out, tell him to take his bogus offer of assistance and shove it. The other part of him wanted her to trust him—the side that knew Diaz didn’t make empty threats.
She wrapped her arms around her body. “No. Absolutely not. I refuse to take up your time. Besides, I don’t think this place gets very busy except when there’s some big event in town, and those are usually on weekends. I’m sure all those customers at once was just a fluke. Most days, only a few customers come in. Unless business has picked up since I left several years ago.”
On cue, a young couple entered the store, followed by a group of three women who appeared to be in their sixties. Despite Sam’s insistence that she could handle it, clearly, she’d have a tough time.
“How about I just help get you through this rush?” he offered.
She caught her bottom lip between her teeth. After a short hesitation, she gave Eli a half nod—all the encouragement he needed.
Another customer came in looking for help with insomnia. “What herbs do you recommend?” she asked Sam.
Sam scratched her head. “Um, hang on a sec.”
Eli reached for a book of herbal remedies from among the small collection for sale. He thumbed through it until he found a chart of natural remedies and quickly scanned it. “Lavender near your bed should help. Also valerian capsules and California poppy.” After gathering the items for the woman, he talked her into the book as well.
Sam grinned at him and started ringing up the sale. “Thank you,” she mouthed.
He made the young couple a custom blend of lavender, rose, and ylang-ylang essential oils to use in a diffuser for their dog’s anxiety.
Sam sniffed the concoction before wrapping it up. “Smells great.”
“Emma made us a mix for stress,” the man said. “It helped. So we figured why not try
something similar for Ruff?”
That furrow on Sam’s brow that he’d noticed earlier was gone.
More shoppers came and went. With him aiding the customers in scoping out various items, and Sam handling the transactions, they found their rhythm as if they’d been working together for years. He wished he was merely helping her out for its own sake, but her appreciative smiles and glances only served to poke at his conscience.
A couple hours after Sam had opened, the traffic finally slowed down. She sat on a stool behind the counter and leaned her chin on her hand. “That was kind of exhausting. I had no idea Aunt Emma’s business had grown so much. She’s been doing this for so long that it’s second nature to her. I wish it weren’t Greek to me.”
Eli rubbed his hands together. “I think you’re just warming up.”
She rolled her eyes. “Scary thought. How about I close up for an hour for lunch and get you something to eat? My aunt won’t mind buying us a meal. We’ve definitely earned that.”
The opportunity to break bread with her was too good to pass up. The faster she started trusting him, the sooner he could find out where she kept the sapphire. He checked his phone. “It’s almost two-thirty, way past lunchtime. But I never turn down a free meal or a beautiful woman.”
Color flared in her cheeks again. She averted her gaze. “We could go back to the cat café. Or somewhere else.”
Apparently, she knew some of the staff next door, but he wanted her all to himself. “I’m more of a meat eater, and they don’t serve much besides croissants and pastries at the café.”
She grabbed her bag from behind the counter and a twenty out of the register. “Fine with me. Purry’s has amazing burgers.” Before they left, she set the little clock on the closed sign to three-thirty.
Minutes later, they sat at a booth in the back corner of the diner. The jukebox played a familiar song from the sixties, but at the off-hour, hardly anyone was there to hear it. He took two menus from the stand on the table and handed one to Sam. A waitress in a pink uniform—who was seventy-five if she was a day—brought them water. “What’ll it be, folks?”
Gambling on the Artist Page 3
