by Xavier Neal
“Much. How the hell did you do that?”
“A little extra fairy dust does quite a few things.”
“I’ve never seen you use that trick before.”
“I actually take pride in the way I look and like the work and effort into getting dressed. However, as we are on a tight schedule, I used a backup plan. You ready?”
“Everything in place?” Once I receive a nod, I grin, taking the flower, “Then, it’s show time.”
Locking the apartment, I adjust the jewel around my neck and pull up on the straps of my black cocktail dress as Justin sighs. “I know tomorrow’s your birthday.”
Slightly annoyed, I reply, “You and everyone else.”
“I got you a gift.” A small velvet box slides out of his pocket. “I know it’s not much, but…”
“Did you buy this or steal it?”
In an offended tone, he answers, “Bought it.”
“With stolen money?”
“I…well…I mean, does it…you see…”
“You sound like me.” I chuckle playfully, nudging him. “I was just giving you a hard time.” Opening the box, I see a small, silver bracelet with several silver, red, and pink stars and one gold cloud shape. Perplexed, I ask, “What’s with the gold one?”
“After tonight, you won’t remember my face. You won’t remember my name. In fact, after we leave tonight, I’m just one more line in the Peter Pan fairy tale. But, I won’t forget you, and even though you won’t know why you have this bracelet or where it came from, I know I’m still a part of your world. That gold cloud represents the nebula you saw in the sky. It’s the portal to Neverland.”
Holding back the urge to tell him I love him, I allow him to fasten the bracelet around my wrist before we leave. The two of us load ourselves in his car and take off to the For the Love of Art Museum.
Once we arrive at the magisterial building, I pull my invitation out and hand it to the front door security. I don’t recognize any of the new, extra guards. Most of the normal guards look like the most they could intimidate is a twelve year old girl lost on a field trip, but these guards…they look like they arrest guys like Justin every day between reloading their machine guns. This could make things a little harder…A little anxiety attempts to set in, but I kick it back, knowing there’s no room for doubt, because doubt creates error. Immediately, the two of us are asked to walk through the metal detectors before security searches through my purse.
“I can’t believe you refused to take me to dinner!” I snip at Justin, while security rifles through my purse.
“I thought you had eaten.” His answer is followed by me tapping my foot impatiently, pretending as if I didn’t hear security tell me my purse is fine.
“God! I swear you’re such an inconsiderate…”
“Miss!” The guard waves my bag at me, “You’re clear.”
“Oh.” I take it from him. Sheepishly, I giggle. “Sorry. Thank you.”
The two of us take hands and pretend to continue the spat until we’re at a safe distance. In a low whisper, he says, “You know, I would’ve gladly taken you to dinner, right?”
Chuckling, I shake my head. “Stay focused please.”
“Just saying. I mean, I would have. I…”
“Will you hold my purse? I need to go to the ladies’ room.” I state loudly enough for close ears to hear.
“Of course.” He nods, takes the black bag, and lingers outside the bathroom.
Slowly, I turn around and slip out the side door, where Aiden’s disabled the alarm. My heels take me swiftly to Justin’s car, where I grab the other black purse from under the front seat and head back up the stairs past the front doorman and into the security area.
Preparing to bypass security, one of the guards attempts to stop me. “Miss, you need to get your bag checked.”
Luckily, the other one pipes up, “No, she’s fine. I checked her earlier. She was the one fighting with her boyfriend because he didn’t take her to dinner. Jerk.”
“Right?” my offended voice is followed by me continuing to move ahead.
The remotely cute guard speaks up again. “I thought you were already inside.”
“I was, but I had to get something for a feminine problem.” The words straighten both security guards up because, for some reason, guys of all ages hate to discuss lady products.
“Oh, go on ahead.” They usher me in past the others. Strolling back by the bathroom area where I left Justin lingering, he chimes in, “Is everything okay, babe?”
“Just peachy.” I wink and adjust the bag in my hand.
The two of us begin strolling around enjoying the displays and looking for cues from Eiden, who is dressed as waiter, and Aiden, who is part of the custodial staff.
An announcement is made that the big speech of the night is about to take place, which means our window is finally here. Justin disappears before me into the men’s restroom and drops an “Out of order” sign on it, which is when I stroll over to Aiden.
“Excuse me, sir, there’s a problem with the ladies’ room. Can you help me?” I politely ask.
“Yes, miss.” He nods and strolls in that direction.
The two of us linger there until Eiden blocks the small hallway as he drags a tray of food by. At the perfect moment, I drop to the ground and give the door a single knock, and Justin crawls out of the men’s room. The two of us crawl at Aiden’s feet into the custodial room. Immediately, he locks the door and blocks it with the cart. He yanks a blanket off what looks like a box of chemicals but is actually a computer system.
“We’re here,” he whispers. “I’m closing all security codes and passwords for the next three minutes. You have that long to get here.” His finger lands on another point on the screen. “Eiden’s already slipped the decoy you repainted last week in the storage room. Once there, Justin, it’s your job to draw security’s attention. Peyton, you have to get those switched in five minutes flat. Remember to be careful when peeling and sealing.”
“Just like we practiced.” I wink.
Unlocking the back door, which leads to a secured set of doors and flights of stairs, Aiden gives us the go ahead, and we take off. Once down the stairs, we storm through two sets of separate doors, take a left, another right, and go down another flight of stairs, this time having to slide past one of the main security offices. Within the window given to us, we arrive at the mark on time.
Justin pulls out a duplicate key to the storage room and slides out a tube that contains the painting I created. He hands it to me along with a small set of tools.
“It’s all you.”
With a wink, I slide him a small bottle of alcoholic smelling body spray and pull an access card out of my purse to swipe myself into the room where the goods are waiting. Cautiously, I wait until I hear Justin’s sad attempt to be drunk and disorderly, then he heads toward the security office.
“This is the worst parking garage ever!” he yells from two flights of stairs up.
I stare at the painting in its protective glass case. Shaking my head in wonder that anything is worth this much trouble, I slide a glove out of my purse, a key card, and an access code. Quickly, I swipe the card, plug in the code, and slide on the glove to place it onscreen. The glass slides open, and I grab the painting.
As rehearsed, I do my best to try to slide it out of its fame. For some reason, no matter how hard I try, the stupid thing won’t come out, and I feel panic set in. There was no plan for if it didn’t slide out of the frame. How could we have not created a backup plan? See, I knew these old paintings had more to them! Trying to remain calm, I feel all along the gold and ruby-colored frame. Suddenly, I notice the smallest piece of the frame at the top is missing. In disbelief, I place my hand on my necklace, remove it from around my neck, and pop out the ruby piece. Placing it carefully into the empty space, the frame unlocks, and the painting is mine for the taking.
“Thanks, Dad.” I smile at the necklace that was given to me when I was bo
rn. “Hope you understand.” Excitedly, I slide it over to the side and prepare the duplicate to take its place. Gently, I use a handheld torch to help age it along with the gloss and seal, a process that feels natural, thanks to the weeks of practice I was lucky enough to endure. As soon as I’m through, I stick it in the frame and pull the ruby out of place, which forces the frame to snap back together. Placing the ruby back in my necklace and the necklace around my neck, I do my best to hide my crooked grin.
I put the painting back on the display, hit the button to seal it closed once more, and stare at the object standing between me and the most important decision I’ve ever made.
With a quick motion before I’m interrupted, I pull out the smaller tube I slipped into the bigger one to hold the decoy painting. I shove a packaging label on both of them before sliding Sous Clef in the tube. Once it’s secure, I take my knife to the large case and carefully unlatch the second, secret decoy I taped to the inside of it. As soon as it’s free, I slip the lid on and place my tools back in my purse.
Afterward, I put my hair up in a high bun, place a pair of square glasses on my face, and rip off the bottom portion of my dress, causing it to appear to be much shorter than it was before. Lastly, I drape a security pass around my neck and pick up the cases.
Opening the door, I see Aiden wiping off all fingerprints from both sets of doors. With a simple nod, I slide the large case and ripped part of my dress onto the bottom of his cart, as he hastily tosses a clipboard on top moments before security comes down to find us.
“Excuse me!” the guard yells at me.
With my nose in the air, I toss my head his direction. “May I help you?”
“What are you doing down here?” he says, holding onto the top of his gun still in its holster.
“A transfer.” I wave the small case in his face. “This item was requested to be transferred tonight.”
The security guard glances over my security badge and then at the clipboard before picking up the package to match the sticker numbers to the information written there. “Why wasn’t I informed?”
“Oh honey, I don’t know. I just do what the big man tells me even if it means dropping the glass of wine I was nursing on my day off.” The words cause him to nod in agreement.
“I know what you mean.” His sudden distraction causes him to merely hand the clipboard back. “Just the other day, I was on this date, and someone called in sick. Had to just drop everything for them.”
“I hate that,” I say with a pouting lip. “If she was with you, she was probably pretty special, huh?”
Loving my response, he licks his lips. “Not too special. Not as special as you might be.”
Aiden pipes up, “Wet floor.” The two of us turn to face him as he moves the mop, “No walk. Wet floor.”
“Got it.” The guard points a trigger finger at him. “Hey, do you mind letting me out on the side? I hate having to do transfers through large parties like the one upstairs. Safety of the art first, you know?” My sympathetic voice is followed by his understanding nod.
“I do.” The security guard escorts me up the stairs. As I turn the corner, Aiden gives me a quick wink before mopping the floor where my heel prints would be.
The guard allows me to exit on the side where Justin’s car is parked, waiting for me. I stroll toward it, making sure no one is watching me and knowing the window is almost closed. The minute I’m inside, I pull a spare key out of my bun and start the engine, taking off down the road.
A few lights away from the museum, I let down my hair and remove the glasses and the badge before taking a left turn to head home with the real painting beside me.
Chapter Eleven
Nervously, I shake my leg as I watch my bedroom balcony window, knowing that, at any minute, I’m going to be greeted by a very angry mob, most likely with Peter at the head of the line. I can’t believe that I not only pulled off a successful heist but that I conned the con man! I pulled the old switcheroo and just might get everything I want. How often does that happen?
Sure enough, an enraged Peter pushes my bedroom doors open, with Belle, Justin, Eiden, and Aiden behind him.
“Where the hell is my map?” he shrieks at me.
“My map.” I correct him quickly. “I stole it. It’s mine.”
“Mine!” he shrieks like angry toddler. Stomping his foot, he continues, “Mine! Mine! Mine!”
“Wow, that’s not a cute look on you.” I shake my head, slowly leaning forward.
“Tell me about it.” Belle giggles beside him, her arms folded across her bright pink T-shirt.
After running his hands through his hair several times, he sighs. “I’m cool. I’m cool. I just want my map.”
“My map.”
“Mine.”
“You mean mine.”
“Mine! Mine! Mine!” His fit continues for a moment, while everyone watches on, muffling their snickers.
“You know what? Whatever.” I roll my eyes. “If you want it, which you clearly do, you’ll give me what I want in return.”
“What?” Peter lowers his eyes in a glare.
“You wanted something from me, so you deceived me to get it. Well now, I want something from you, but I’m not going to waste time deceiving you to get it. I prefer not to con my way through everything. No offense, sweetheart.”
Justin speaks up. “None taken.”
“You are a world class con though.” My smile flatters him enough to motivate Justin to adjust his tie.
“Why, thank you.”
“Conning really is just a different sort of art, isn’t it?”
“You know I…”
“Excuse me, Romeo and Juliet. Yeah, if you don’t mind, my map.” Peter waves his hand at me. “What do you want?”
“I want you to make me a Lost Boy.”
Justin’s grin extends from ear to ear as I see hope leap into his eyes. Aiden and Eiden raise their eyebrows at me, both slightly excited as well.
“You won’t be a very good Lost Boy. You’re a girl.” Peter starts off condescendingly. “Besides, everyone on my crew serves a purpose, the tech wiz, the weapons magician, my con artist. What exactly would I need you for?”
“The fact that, for every piece of art you’re chasing, I know the information you need.”
“Justin can read a book and do the same.”
“You know, I’m planning on reading a lot less these days. Beginning to hurt the eyes.” Justin points to his face, while Peter angrily looks over his shoulder at him. I try to suppress my grin as I continue, “But does Justin possess the same expertise as I do? I assume you’re after more artwork. I was bred in the art world. I have access and information to things you might not even know about. There are clues and stories in these artworks that you can’t find anywhere else.”
“And why couldn’t I?”
“Because they are the types of stories that are passed down from generation to generation, the kind that don’t make it into textbooks, like the fact, for instance, that the Sous Clef ’s frame was locked because it needed a key.”
“Like the one around your neck?”
“Isn’t that the reason you really needed me?”
Justin stands strong, proud that I had figured it out, while Peter’s face begins fading into a shade of red.
“Aw, is poor Peter upset I figured out his little plan?” Immediately, I lean forward. “I’m smarter than I look.”
“Well, that’s good because you look like…”
“Peter!” Belle snips at him.
Clearing his throat, Peter continues the fight. “While it’s an enticing offer, you can’t. You can’t be eighteen.”
“I’m not,” I interject. “I’ve got an hour before I officially turn eighteen.”
Uncomfortable, he turns his head to Justin. “Can’t you talk some sense into her?”
After staring deep into my eyes for a moment, reading me the way we’ve both become accustomed to, he shrugs. “She’s a big girl, Peter.
She knows what she’s doing.”
“Does she?” The words are weighted with meaning. More irate than before, he yells, “Come on! Everyone else here thinks this is good idea? Did everyone fall off the crazy train this morning? Really! There’s no other way?”
“No,” I smile, “and time is ticking away. Because if you don’t agree on my deal before the time is up, I’ll return the map.”
“You wouldn’t.” His voice is low, slow, and deliberate. “My father should be home relatively soon too. Imagine his excitement to know his only daughter saved a priceless piece of artwork.” The words cause Peter’s face to cringe. “Imagine the headline of the newspaper. Young girl…”
“Beautiful,” Justin interjects, sliding one hand into his pocket.
“Thank you. Correction. Beautiful, young girl saves priceless artwork from thieves.” Peter’s body tenses. “The article will read something like ‘Some way, somehow, this smart, sweet, innocent girl managed to put her life on the line to save the priceless creation from some snarling, pathetic, worthless…”
“Enough!” He holds a hand up to me.
Belle rolls her eyes. “Oh, just give the damn girl what she wants. She’s smarter than you gave her credit for. The team likes her. I like her. She has no desire to sleep with you, so that’s a plus. Besides, I’m so ready to go home.”
“Fine!” Peter yells at the top of his lungs. “Let’s get this over with, so we can get our map, and we can all go back to Neverland.”
Trying not to be excited, I hop up as Justin is ushered to my side. “Tell her the rules and precautions.”
“All right. You are from this day on a Lost Boy. You never existed here. Your parents will never remember you. You were never born.”
“It doesn’t work like that.” Peter gripes. “She’s a Darling. It’s not the same. You did exist. Your parents will remember you. You were born, and nothing can change that because of your purpose. So, from this day on, you have to understand your loyalty no longer lies with the Darling clan or its associates. Got it?”
My eyes glance over my shoulder at a picture of me, my mother, and my father outside a restaurant on my tenth birthday. That year, we were living in North Carolina, and my gift from them was a set of custom designed paints and brushes.
