Not a Chance

by S. C. Stephens

  “Mack, you are going to ignore him if he calls…right?”

  Makayla glanced at Neil frowning at her. “Well…”

  Sighing, he dropped his head back to the seat. “Damn it…I knew it.” Crossing his arms over his chest, Neil shook his head. “I knew the minute I got a good look at him that you’d be interested. He’s exactly your type.”

  Makayla dropped her jaw. “He is not, and that’s not why—”

  “He is so!” Neil twisted his head to her. “He’s hot, Mack, that’s why you’re not turning him in.”

  Twisting her lip, Makayla resumed concentrating on her driving. “No, I didn’t turn him in because he was right, I didn’t have enough proof. And I wouldn’t say he’s hot…cute, but not hot.”

  Neil groaned. “God, you’re in such denial right now. He’s hot, you’re attracted, end of story… ”

  Not liking the thought of Neil being right, of her hormones clouding her head, Makayla lifted her chin. “Well, it doesn’t matter. I’m not going to talk to him. I’m not going to meet with him. I got my wallet back and that’s all that matters. We’ll just…pretend the rest of tonight didn’t happen.”

  “Really?” Neil asked, his voice tentative.

  “Yep,” Makayla nodded. “We’ll never see that thief again.” Curious or not, Neil was right. That path was not a smart path. And Makayla was a smart, level-headed girl. At least, she liked to think she was.

  ***

  Safely concealed in a dark corner of the lot, Chance watched Makayla and her friend drive away from the grocery store. Shaking his head, he smiled as the honey-haired, blue-eyed creature that had completely taken him by surprise sped past his line of sight.

  Chance had been having a tumultuous year, and hadn’t really been sure that he’d wanted to do another job right now. Considering all he’d been through lately, he’d been tossing around the vague idea of retiring from his devious lifestyle; he’d even been unofficially out of the game for the last several months. But Garrett had found him and propositioned him with a con that was easy compared to his last gig. An afterhours bank robbery, an employee assisted inside job. Nice and simple. And maybe that’s what Chance needed right now to get his head on straight…simplicity.

  In a weak moment, Chance had agreed to swing through town and scope things out for Garrett. He hadn’t given him a firm answer yet, but had been spending the last few weeks doing all of the research he could on all of the potential marks at the bank. Right away Makayla had been a standout. Chance had been following her for a while now, and had instantly been captivated. But attraction on his end wasn’t a necessary component to manipulation, and he’d needed a bigger push to make the decision on whether or not to go through with this. Tonight had been the test, her test.

  Smiling as he started his car hidden in the shadows of various low-hanging trees, Chance thought his first contact with her had gone remarkably well, better than he’d hoped. He’d imagined all kinds of responses that she’d have to his blatant thievery, but her jumping into her car and following him had not been one of them. If she’d called the cops, Chance would have known that she wasn’t the right mark for the con, and he’d have chosen someone else, maybe the younger girl at the bank. If Makayla had simply cancelled her credit cards, Chance wouldn’t have been too impressed, but he’d have grudgingly chosen her. He could have worked with that. And if she hadn’t even noticed the theft at all, Chance would have sighed with boredom, called Garrett with his working terms, and proceeded to sleepwalk his way through the next few weeks.

  But no, Makayla had done something completely unexpected and now she had Chance’s complete attention. Now he was intrigued.

  Digging into his pocket, he pulled out his cheap, disposable cell phone. He entered in Garrett’s number and waited for the man to pick up. “Yeah?”

  Chance frowned. Garrett wasn’t exactly his first choice in partners. He was gruff, impatient, and more than a little crude. He lacked…refinement. But, as Chance was at a crossroads in his life, he ignored the distaste in his mouth and instead focused on the one thing he knew how to do, the one thing he was good at….his job. “I made contact…it’s on, I’ll take the job.”

  He heard a low chuckle on the other end. “Good. We’ll get started on our end. I wanna hit this thing soon. She gonna take you long?”

  Remembering the odd look of interest Makayla showed from the very first instant she’d spotted him, Chance shook his head. “No, no I don’t think so.”

  “Excellent! I knew you were the right man for the job.”

  Chance raised an edge of his lip. “Remember, my cut is forty.”

  Silence, then, “Adrian’s was less.”

  Chance smiled wider as he pulled onto the street that would lead him to his “temporary” home here in Plymouth. “Yeah, but Adrian turned his back on the job…and I’m the one that’s going to get you in and out completely undetected…so my take is forty percent.”

  “Fine.”

  With that, the gruff man disconnected the call. Chance rolled his eyes. Nope, no finesse at all. But he didn’t have time to worry about his new business partners. Chance had a con to prepare for, a not-typical woman to begin to seduce.

  This was the part of a seduction con that Chance most enjoyed—a surreal form of dating, where he adapted himself to be whatever the mark needed him to be. It was all a matter of listening and reacting…playing, toying…acting all shy and nervous, unsure of himself as he tried to impress the girl. Maybe give her a little sob story, a little—I’m a victim of poor circumstances and I’m yearning to change, yearning to be shown the light of true love.

  It was fun, and Chance had missed this these last few months. Yes, maybe getting back in the game was exactly what he needed right now. It would almost be enough to make him forget all of the crap that he’d gone through recently… almost. He doubted that he’d ever be able to completely forget…but he had to try.

  Chapter 2

  A Date with a Thief

  When Makayla woke up the next morning, her thief was all she could think about. The way his lip curled up when he smiled—playfulness and deviousness masked behind an air of innocence. The way his eyes had watched her—warm, friendly, amused and most of all, intrigued. The way the slight accent on his words made her insides feel like taffy. The way their brief moments of connection had gotten her heart beating faster.

  It had been a while since a boy had affected Makayla. She’d gone on plenty of dates, but nothing had held her interest for long. She just tended to find most men…a little boring. Maybe that’s why her mind kept coming back to Chance. She had a feeling that, if anything, a relationship with him would not be boring.

  But that was the problem. He was too far on the other side of the spectrum. She couldn’t be with someone who would brazenly rifle through a woman’s purse on the floor of a darkened movie theater. She couldn’t be with someone bold enough to steal from someone a foot away from them. Someone who’d snatch her money one second, then give her a charming grin and a smooth pickup line the next.

  If he had the stones to do all that…then who knew what else he was capable of? And would she ever know? Would he tell her everything if they were a couple? Would she believe him if he did? Could she ever really trust someone who was completely comfortable with lying, cheating and stealing? Besides, for all she knew, hers wasn’t the only wallet he’d stolen last night.

  Frowning, Makayla sat up. She shouldn’t have let him go. He was a menace. She should have searched him. She’d had probable cause… Of course, she hadn’t known if he was armed or not, and Makayla wasn’t really a cop, even if she liked to pretend she was sometimes. No, she was a bank teller. A bank teller that needed to start getting ready for work. She’d done the right thing by letting Chance walk away.

  Makayla rubbed her eyes as she stood up, wondering if she could scrub the image of his four-leaf clover from her vision. It was an adorable tattoo for a guy to have. She wondered what the story was behind it…


  Shaking her head, she rolled her eyes. No, it didn’t matter what his story was. She was not going to be curious about a boy that would probably clean out her house if he had the opportunity. Frowning, Makayla looked around at all of the valuables in her bedroom. The jewelry she’d inherited from her mother was strewn across her dresser, left out from rummaging through it last night before the movie. A laptop was on her nightstand next to her bed, an online novel that she’d fallen asleep reading still displayed on the screen. An MP3 player rested on her desk, a solid oak piece of furniture that had been in her family for generations. She kept a stash of emergency money hidden in one of its drawers. Makayla didn’t have a TV in the bedroom, but the one in her living room was a full-sized big screen, a college graduation present from her father.

  Now that the thief knew where she lived, Makayla started to wonder if she should tighten up her security. Maybe she should invest in a safe. He probably knew how to crack a safe, though. All thieves seemed to know how to do that…like there was a prerequisite safe-cracking course they all had to take. Right after Lock-picking 101 and How to Hotwire your Ride. Maybe she should add a deadbolt to the doors? Decorative bars on all the windows?

  Just as she was wondering if she’d feel any safer living somewhere that more resembled an institution than a home, her purse rang. Blindly, Makayla made her way over to it. Floundering through the bag, she found the obtrusive, ringing cell phone and quickly answered the unknown number. “Hello?”

  “Good morning! Is this Makayla?”

  Frowning at the unrecognized voice, Makayla wondered if she’d just answered a phone call from a solicitor. “Yeah…who’s this?”

  A small chuckle met her question. “Did you forget me already? And I really thought I’d made an impression.”

  Makayla sighed. His comment matching with the slight drawl she’d just been thinking about not too long ago, she finally registered the voice. “Chance. Isn’t it a little early for you to call? You wouldn’t want to seem overeager now, would you?” Makayla swallowed, hoping her surprise wasn’t too evident. She really hadn’t been expecting to hear from him so soon. And she really hadn’t planned on answering his call…she was pretty sure that had been her plan anyway. Too late now.

  As Makayla sat on the edge of her bed, Chance laughed again. “It’s never too early to call a beautiful woman. Besides, over the years I’ve learned that it’s best to seize opportunities as they arise.”

  Makayla smirked. “Right…just like wallets.”

  Chance only chuckled at her comment, neither confirming nor denying the theft he’d partaken in. “You want to talk about that date now?”

  Makayla sighed, not really wanting to talk about anything with this man. “Well, I could take you for a tour of the local precinct? You could start getting yourself familiarized. You know, for when you end up there.”

  “Or…we could go see another movie?”

  Makayla rolled her eyes, reimagining the moment when they’d first met. “Right, so you can steal more of my stuff? I don’t think so.”

  Chance didn’t respond right away and Makayla got the distinct impression that he was stifling some laughter. She didn’t particularly enjoy the fact that she was amusing to him. One, it would make it all the harder to shove him away, and two…well, nothing he had done to her so far was amusing. Except maybe the short time they’d flirted together, when she’d thought he was perfectly normal. “Look, this isn’t going to happen, and I have to get to work, so why don’t we just go our separate—”

  “Where do you work?” he cut in, his voice bright and inquisitive, not in the slightest hurt that she’d been blowing him off.

  “Uh, Bank of New England…did you hear what I said about this not ever going to happen?”

  “Uh-huh, yeah, I heard you.” Again his voice was irritatingly chipper. “So, you like working at a bank? I’d think it would get pretty boring.”

  Shaking her head, Makayla started to answer him before remembering that she didn’t need to; she wasn’t going to have any sort of relationship with this man, so he didn’t need to know any pertinent details about her. Well, any more pertinent information. He already knew her name, weight, birthday, and now, place of employment. Oh boy, Makayla really hoped this guy was firing on all cylinders. The last thing she needed was some crazed, stalker-thief following her every move.

  “You’re not easily deterred, are you?”

  Chance chuckled, and even that sound had a light accent to it. Against her will, Makayla was charmed by the sound. “No, I don’t let myself think about the obstacles in the way if I see something that I have to have. And in the end…I usually get what I want.”

  Frowning, Makayla considered how devious that sentence really was. Yet another reason she couldn’t accept an offer of romance from him…even if the memory of his grin was a pleasing one. “And now you want me?”

  A pause on his end. “I’d like to get to know you better.” He laughed. “Is that a crime?”

  Makayla smiled, amused by his sense of humor. “Fine, how about Saturday?” She bit her lip and cringed. Damn, she really hadn’t meant to agree to see him. Her curiosity was again overriding her common sense. She couldn’t help but be intrigued by this seemingly normal man that led a not-so-normal life.

  “Sounds great. I’ll pick you up around six.”

  Makayla shot up off her bed. She did not like the idea of him at her home…even though he already knew where she lived. “Uh, wait, no, I’ll meet you there…”

  “Don’t be silly, Makayla. A man should always pick up the woman. It’s the polite thing to do.”

  Makayla sputtered on her words. A thief was giving her etiquette rules? Really? She had a snappy retort about politeness and wallet-snatchery, but Chance didn’t give her enough time to collect her thoughts. “I eagerly await our evening, and don’t worry, I’ll plan everything. You just be your charming, beautiful self.”

  “No, wait, I’ve changed my—”

  “See you Saturday! Have a great day at the bank, Makayla. Bye!”

  He hung up before Makayla had the chance to finish her objection. “Shit…” She moved the phone to stare at the screen. What the hell just happened? How did she go from wondering if she should report him, to agreeing to see him? Damn that charming man. He could probably talk his way out of anything. God, Neil was going to have a stroke.

  Shaking her head, Makayla tried to brush off the upcoming outing she’d agreed to. She did have to get ready for work. Besides, she could always conveniently not come home Saturday night. Maybe she’d have a sleepover at Neil’s. Of course…Chance was a persistent sort of fellow. He’d probably just wait outside her home until she did get there. She could come back a week later and he’d just stroll up to her door and chipperly escort her out for the evening.

  Hopefully his “planned” date didn’t involve breaking and entering. Makayla really didn’t want a rap sheet. That would make joining the force a little awkward.

  Once she was dressed in her professional clothes, her long, board-straight hair pulled back into a sleek ponytail, Makayla headed out the door. The coolness in the spring air cleaned Makayla’s lungs. She breathed it in deep, the refreshment cleansing her tumbling thoughts.

  Her home was a modest, reliable, one-level town house. Makayla had been drawn to the color when she’d been house-hunting. It was a yellow, but not a bright, garish yellow. No, it was the same pale shade as Easter eggs that had been lightly dipped in yellow dye. It reminded Makayla of her mother. She’d always preferred the muted tones of the pastel pallet, instead of the harshness of bold colors. Spring had been her favorite season to decorate for—when the world seemed to celebrate the subtle shades of life. Just looking at her home brought Makayla memories of the warm woman the world had lost, and, as she always did, Makayla felt closer to her as she locked the front door.

  Her home was nestled in the middle of a cul-de-sac, similarly shaped homes on either side of it. The safety and security of
being on a dead-end street had also appealed to Makayla. Maybe it was her police-like instincts, but she preferred to have her back to the wall so she could watch the exit. Her home felt that way, since there was only one way into and out of the neighborhood.

  A lighter wind than the previous evening swished her ponytail in the air. Makayla pulled her jacket tighter around herself and hurried into her vehicle—a dependable, never-breaks-down Honda Civic that she’d had for at least ten years now. The car starting as instantly as she knew it would, Makayla headed out the few miles it took to get to her work.

  Weaving through the streets of Plymouth, Makayla made her way to the bank. It was a relatively small business, more a local bank than a national chain, but it did have branches throughout the state. The emphasis here was on customer service, not outrageous fees and questionable home loans. The bank owners pushed the importance of interacting with the clients—knowing everyone’s names, remembering their stories, treating someone with ten dollars the same as someone with ten million dollars. It was how the little business could compete in a world of huge corporations. Customer service. Truly a trait that was dying off in a sea of online social networking.