But when she tugged on the door handle, he used the last of his restraint and let her push it open.
"I'm going to at least walk you up," he said, reaching for his own handle. It wasn’t the best neighborhood and the apartment building had a sketchy vibe.
"There’s a doorman, I’ll be fine. And honestly?” She pursed her lips and leveled him with a solemn, wounded stare. “I'd really rather be alone right now."
Fuck all.
He’d hurt her feelings, and that hadn’t been his intention at all. He’d stopped because he didn’t want to hurt her.
"Right. Well, we're going to need to set up a time to talk. Go over some strategies, work on our cover story.” He couldn’t stop the next words from following, in spite of knowing no good could come of them. “We can talk over dinner tomorrow.”
She nodded and smiled, but it felt forced. “Sure. Give me a call and we’ll work something out.”
Ironic that he’d made her feel bad when he wanted nothing more than to make her feel good.
She stepped out of the car and slammed the door behind her. He waited until she entered the building, and then a few minutes longer, wondering if he should text and make sure she got upstairs all right. She was a grown woman and had clearly done a fine job managing herself up until now, so why did he feel the urge to make sure she was taken care of?
The question answered itself as he stared at the decrepit building. Whatever front she was trying to convey, she wasn’t on the grift so she could live the high life and roll around in her bags of money. From what he could tell, there was no sign that she spent any of it on herself at all, and now he had confirmation she certainly wasn’t spending it on her dwelling. So then where was she spending it? She clearly needed it…
He felt another twinge of conscience and reaffirmed his commitment to this new and surely ill-advised plan. If he could help Sadie while still getting what he wanted from this Hannigan situation, there was no reason why he shouldn’t.
If, in the meantime, he was able to spend more time in her company and uncover more of her secrets?
More the better.
8
“That’s the third text you’ve gotten from him since you walked in, and you blush every time. So you’ve got a boyfriend then. That’s what you’re telling me?” Clarissa leaned over the side of the hospital bed and shook Sadie’s shoulders, a wide grin stretched across her pale lips. “Sadie’s got a boy-oy-friend,” she said in a singsong voice. “It’s about time.”
Sadie winced, pressing her forefingers to her temples as the throbbing ramped up to double time.
“First, stop shaking me. My head feels like it’s about to explode. Second, two dates does not a boyfriend make, so don’t get crazy.” When she had told Clarissa she was having dinner with Jake later, her sister had assumed he was the guy she’d attended the gala with. She wasn’t about to correct her, but she didn’t want her to get her hopes up, either. “In fact, it’s not even really a date…”
So what was it, then? It wasn’t just a business meeting. She could fool herself into pretending otherwise, but that didn’t explain why, when Jake had called that morning, she’d spent two hours poring over the contents of her sad little closet like a teenager heading out to her first dance. Or why, when he’d texted to ask her restaurant preferences, she’d gotten all flustered and jittery.
It definitely wasn’t a date, though. People didn’t go on dates to talk about how best to rig a card game or determine an escape route.
But what about the kiss…
No. She’d been lucky he’d called it to a halt. She shoved the memory aside and tried to will away the sudden heating of her cheeks.
“It’s a get together. A hang out, is all. God, can’t a girl just hang out with a guy like friends or whatever?”
Clarissa sat back on her pillow, the smug smile still wreathing her face. “You ‘hung out’ at the gala, too. I hate to tell you, but if you wear a dress like the one you wore that night, it’s a date.”
If that were true, it was the weirdest date ever. She couldn’t help the small and selfish part of her that wished she could tell Clarissa the truth about her life and her nighttime activities. She would have cried laughing at the story of her big sister pretending to be a Countess and taking a dive off a balcony, or getting caught with the jewels and then kicking Jake in his jewels.
But after the laughs, Clarissa would blame herself for the life Sadie led, and that was the last thing she wanted. No one had forced her into anything. She’d made her choices and sure, they were tough sometimes, but she’d make every one of them again if she had to. Until they were sure Clarissa was cancer free for good --God willing, that would be this time-- she’d continue the charade, letting her sister believe that everything was all right and that Sadie led a normal life.
“Okay, so maybe it was a date. But I don’t think it’s going anywhere serious. He’s got some baggage.” At least that much was true. She hadn’t been able to get it out of him yet, but there was no question that his hatred for Alistair ran deep. It was all she could do not to use her research skills and the web to figure out why. But now that they were partners, it would be rude and she certainly wouldn’t appreciate Jake doing that to her. Better if they left each other with what secrets they had left in tact.
Clarissa snorted and reached for the glass of water beside her on the rolling tray. “Don’t we all? And who’s to say that every relationship has to go somewhere, anyway?” She shook her head and took a long sip from the glass before setting it down with a decisive clink. “When I’m healthy again, I’m not living for the future. I’m going to do what feels good in the now, because tomorrow might never come for any of us. Find me a hot guy to take me to a gala and make me blush like that, and I am so down.” Her blue eyes locked with Sadie’s and she lifted her chin in challenge. “And, frankly, I kinda think you’re a chicken-shit if you’re not.”
Sadie held her sister’s gaze, sadness rushing over her like a wave. “I’m so sorry-” Clarissa shushed her with a talk-to-the-hand.
“Don’t you dare apologize for being healthy. The one thing I thank God for every day is that it’s me in this bed instead of you.” Her voice cracked and Sadie’s heart cracked right along with it. “And don’t tell me how everything is going to be okay and how I’ll have all those chances to live my life and meet a guy soon. I already know that. I’ve always known it. Sometimes I just get so tired, and it really helps if I know you believe it, too.”
“I do.” Tears blurred her vision as she took her sister’s cold hand, squeezing it gently in her own. “Jesus, sis, I’ve always believed-”
“Then act like it.” Clarissa’s eyes snapped with passion as she spoke, her voice getting stronger with every word. “Stop treating me like I’m going to drop dead before you see me next. Live your life. If you want me home, I need to know you’re doing that. I don’t want to feel like the anvil around your neck.” Clarissa stared down at their clasped hands and shrugged. “I don’t want to be a burden. That sounds silly because there’s no other way for me to be right now, but it’s the truth.”
Sadie’s stomach pitched and she swallowed hard to dislodge the knot in her throat. “You’re never a burden. You were the light of my life. Especially after Mom died. I don’t know what we would have done without you, cracking jokes and making me and Dad smile when we needed it so bad.”
Clarissa gave her a shaky grin. “You guys always were an easy audience. Couple of bad knock-knock jokes, and you’d be laughing your asses off.”
“Well, believe me when I tell you that there is nothing that would make me happier than to have you home making me laugh, so let’s pinky swear.” She tugged her hand away from her sister’s and crooked her little finger. “We’re both going to do whatever it takes to make that happen, ASAP. And I promise I’ll work on getting my shit together.”
Clarissa clasped her pinky with Sadie’s and wiggled it. “Deal.” The heavy tension in the air disappeared in
an instant. “Now, on to more important stuff. Did you hear one of the Kardashian sisters is going to name her baby Kale? Like the vegetable…”
Sadie stayed for another hour and they chatted about celebrities and current events and some new recipes they would try when Clarissa came home. By the time she walked out into the warm summer sunshine, she was feeling like a weight had been lifted off her. Like she’d been in a dark room and someone had finally showed her where the light switch was.
She’d spent the last decade and a half insulating herself from life and staying inside a little bubble because really living felt like a betrayal. From high school on, she’d wondered how could she go to dances and make friends and run track and flirt with boys while her baby sister lay in a hospital bed with tubes coming out of her nose and her hair falling out?
But she had it all wrong. Clarissa wanted those things for her. And not living life to the fullest was the real betrayal. Jesus, she’d been so blind and stupid.
No more, though. She had her health. She had her youth.
And, unless something had changed in the past twelve hours, she still had a chance to take life --and Jake Callahan-- by the balls. Even if it was just for a little while…
“So here’s what we’ve got, in case you need to pull a quick disappearing act.”
Jake laid the blueprints out on the mahogany table and set a pair of coasters on each side to weigh them down.
Sadie let out a low whistle from between her teeth.
"Fancy. Mine aren't nearly as nice, and they're also dated. I didn't even know about that new wing, or the second wine cellar." She tapped her index finger to the paper, indicating the spots she was referring to. "I bought my set from the nice lady at the desk of the deeds department at town hall and she let me photocopy them. You?"
"I made sure the architect who built the home when Alistair purchased it two years ago was on my payroll. Every time there was an upgrade or change, he redid the blueprints for me."
She inclined her head and made like she was bowing to him. "Well, clearly I'm in the presence of a master. I'll have to keep that in mind."
Another compliment. It was the third so far, and she’d only been in his house for an hour. He found himself both intrigued and suspicious.
He hadn’t even been sure she would take his call that morning after the way last night had ended. She’d thrown him for a loop when she not only agreed to meet him, but called back a couple hours later to suggest getting takeout and eating at his house. Ever the optimist, his dick had gone stiff in an instant at the implications, but his brain was more cautious. Was this another grift? Some sort of angle to get into his house? The idea that he’d now become the mark would have been almost funny if it wasn’t such a real possibility.
But even that didn’t do fuck all to deflate his cock. Especially not when she walked in wearing a swing-y, sexy skirt paired with a white halter-top that made her look like a nineteen-fifties pinup.
She leaned over the long dining table to look closer at the blueprints, giving him a glorious, unobstructed view of her cleavage.
“I’ve been a solid card mechanic for more than ten years. I have no intention of getting caught, but if for some reason, the shit hits the fan, it seems like the best thing for me to do is to head out through the east wing and down the servants’ stairs out the side kitchen door.” She straightened to face him.
He dragged his gaze away from her perfect-handful breasts and nodded. “Sounds like a plan.”
“Since he introduced us, Hannigan won’t suspect we’re working together. Even if he suspects me or I make a mistake, go along with him. Get irate. Maybe yell at me some. Whatever you have to do to maintain your own cover. What’s he going to do? Call the police to come arrest the cheater at his illegal high stakes card game?” she said with a snort. “Not likely. I’ll give them their money back, kick off my heels and bolt. Call myself a cab and have them meet me around the corner. You stick around until things cool off. As long as you get a chance to put the jewelry back and I walk out with at least the twenty-five thousand dollar stake I started with, I’m okay. I knew when I made the deal this wasn’t a guarantee.”
Her assessment of the way things should go was close to his own, but Hannigan could be something of a wildcard. If he got angry and felt disrespected in front of his peers, there was a chance things could heat up.
Jake cut that thought short. Odds were everything would turn out just fine. Especially if Sadie was as good as he thought she was. No point looking for problems.
"I’ll pick you up at your apartment at eight on the nose,” he confirmed. “By the time we get there, everyone should already be settled in.”
She nodded, but then paused, chewing on her lower lip. “What if you were right, after all? What if he doesn't let me play?"
Jake stared down at her for a long moment and then barked out a laugh. "You can't be serious? I just said that to try to talk you out of it. Did you see the way he was eye-balling your...er, the Countess’s assets? If you wear the right clothes, I'm pretty sure you could get him to sign over the deed to his house."
Her eyes took on a speculative gleam. "Now that would be a good score."
"Only problem is, you'd get the house with him in it."
She shook her head, sending a dark lock falling forward over her cheek. "Forget it, then. Not worth it."
Another thing he respected. She might not be Mother Teresa, but she had a moral code --albeit a screwed up one-- that fit very nicely with his own. She could easily have landed herself a sugar daddy like Alistair who would have taken care of her for all of her days, but she chose not to. That realization relieved him more than it should have.
"And when will you step out of the room to return the stuff I nabbed?"
"We'll give it an hour or so, for sure, but I can't pin it down more than that for you. When I see a window of opportunity where everyone is preoccupied, I'll give you a sign. You give me one back to let me know you’re comfortable, and I'm off. I think I'll need about three or four minutes. All you have to do is keep him busy during that time."
She pursed her lips and nodded, clearly deep in thought about their shared mission. It must have been nice to be able to focus so intently on her objective without the kind of maddening distraction he had to deal with. Like the way her citrusy perfume fanned out every time she shook her head, or the enticing line from her outstretched finger leading up that toned arm all the way to the swell of her breasts again.
"I think I can handle that."
He had no doubt. She was a chameleon and he was pretty sure she could handle anything he threw at her.
"Right, then,” he said, regrouping to continue the task at hand. “So we go in, and you pour on the charm and the drinks. Get him loose and a little unawares. We play for a while, and you use that time to slowly build up a nice little score. It's not uncommon for one of the guys to walk away with forty or fifty grand, so I think you can definitely get away with doubling your money without anyone even looking twice at you."
At least, not for that reason, at any rate. There was no question the rest of the guys would be looking at her more than twice that night, and probably again later in their dreams. Especially if she wore anything even remotely as sexy as what she had on now.
"That kind of money would be a godsend for us," she murmured, staring down at the blueprints.
An icy ball formed in his stomach at her words.
“Us?” Did she have a child whose well-being she was risking with this lifestyle? He couldn’t be party to that. Or maybe “us” meant a husband…
Her gaze went shuttered and for a second, he was sure she was going to lie or stonewall him. But she surprised him by blowing out a long breath. "Me and my sister, Clarissa. She’s not well. From the time I can remember, we were taking her to the hospital or waiting for the ambulance to come. I was five when she was born. The day they brought her home, she wouldn't stop crying. I thought it was the worst sound I'd ever heard."
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Her lips tipped into a little smile that was bittersweet and twisted him up in knots.
"I laid in bed and covered my head with a pillow, but that didn't work. So I made a little tent out of sheets in my closet and tried to sleep there, but that didn't work either. Finally, I got so mad, I climbed into her crib with her. Who knows what I was planning? Something horrible, probably, because I was a rotten kid.” She let out a hollow little laugh. “But then I looked at her face and she looked at me and something broke open inside of me. So I curled up next to her and patted her round little belly for a while, and eventually, she stopped."
Her eyes took on a faraway look and she paused for a long moment before she continued. "So strange, that cry. It was so strong, it seemed like she could bring the walls down if she wanted to. As summer turned to fall and fall to winter, that cry got weaker and weaker, and the fevers started. When she was two we got the definitive diagnosis. Leukemia. I lay awake at night for months, praying that I'd hear that cry again. Clarissa, wailing her heart out."
Her despair was so absolute, he wished like hell he knew what to say, what to do to ease her pain. Up until now, he’d known there was a chance, despite her tell, that every word Sadie had spoken had been a lie. But this? This, he had no doubt was the God’s honest truth and it made his stomach churn to witness her pain. She was so cautious, so necessarily secretive all the time, he was moved that she had chosen to share this with him.
"Sadie, I'm so sorry to hear of her suffering. It’s a terrible disease."
"It is. But she’s getting better. And we had some good years mixed in with the bad.” She swiped a hand over her eyes and sucked in a breath. “Then, after a bone marrow surgery and this last round of treatments, we saw some amazing results. She’s now cancer free and in recovery. But all that cost money we didn’t have, so…" She shrugged and pursed her lips.
The Family Jewels Page 8
