It Takes a Thief--A Heist Romance

by Sloane Steele

  “Pssh,” Gram said, giving Audrey a shove with her bony hand. “There are plenty of fish in the sea.”

  “Actually, I’ve already met someone else.” As long as she was playing out a fantasy, she might as well have fun. “His name is Jay and he’s loaded. Wears fancy suits every day. Has a driver take him around the city.”

  “Really? What’s he do for a living?”

  “He’s in some kind of business.”

  “Does he value your career?”

  Audrey swallowed a laugh. “Yes. He’s not only supportive of my career, he’s downright fascinated by it.”

  “Sounds like a keeper.” Gram leaned closer. “Is he good in bed?”

  “Gram!”

  “Well, you have to think about those things.”

  Audrey shook her head. “We’re not there yet.”

  Gram turned her attention to the TV. “This is getting good,” she said as she pointed to the soap opera she had on.

  They watched in silence for a few minutes. Then Gram looked at her. “Who let you in here?”

  She stood. Every time she lost Gram like this, it broke her heart a little more. “I’m sorry. I was just leaving.”

  As she made her way back down the hallway, Mrs. Merriweather called to her. “Do you have a few minutes to talk?”

  “Sure.” Audrey followed the woman to her office. “What’s up?”

  “I’m assuming you saw your grandmother?”

  “Yeah. For while, she was herself. We had a whole conversation before I lost her again.”

  “I’m sorry to say it’s been happening a lot more lately. I think it’s time to think about transitioning her to the full-time care wing.”

  Crap. She’d thought she had more time.

  “We do have an available bed. But I’m afraid it won’t stay available for long.”

  “And if I don’t take it?”

  The woman’s whole face pinched, as if she couldn’t imagine why Audrey wouldn’t jump on the offer. “That would be your choice. However, if your grandmother gets worse, and we don’t have a bed available, you’ll need to make other arrangements.”

  Audrey had hoped that at some point her life would move beyond rock and hard place. Even for a little while. “How much for her to move over?”

  She knew it would cost more than the little apartment Gram currently lived in because they had around-the-clock care in the other wing, but she wasn’t quite prepared for the contract Mrs. Merriweather slid in front of her. The advance Jay had given her for quitting her job would cover most of the month.

  “Can I pay for part of it now and the rest in a couple of weeks?”

  “A down payment would hold her spot and the rent you’ve paid on the apartment would be shifted over.” At least she had the capacity to look at Audrey with sympathy.

  Audrey moved money into Gram’s trust and did an electronic payment that left her with approximately a hundred bucks in her personal account. So much for her own rent.

  She walked around for a while instead of jumping back on a bus. She needed a plan. The Greens didn’t want her working, but she wasn’t sure if she could wait for this job to be done. She’d lived on less than a hundred bucks before. And if she ate at the apartment with Nikki, she’d save more.

  It took longer than she planned to get back to the apartment. When she rang the bell, she tried to mentally prepare herself for Jay’s irritation, but she couldn’t muster the energy. Someone buzzed her up without asking who was there, so it was probably Nikki. The door stood open.

  Audrey walked in and looked around. No Jay. Maybe something was going her way for a change. She dropped her bag next to the couch and moved to the desk. Jay had left her list of questions with answers scribbled everywhere. She tried to read them, but her mind kept going back to Gram.

  “Jay’s pissed.”

  “So what else is new?” Audrey mumbled.

  “Where’d you disappear to?”

  “I had to take care of something.”

  “You okay?”

  She didn’t bother with a lie. The only person in her life who really knew her was fading fast. “No.”

  Staring at the notes Jay left, she willed them to make sense. She had no idea how long she stood there not moving. Images of Gram getting worse assaulted her. Thoughts of bills piling up and her not being able to pay for Horizons scared the crap out of her.

  Then Nikki was standing beside her with a glass of whiskey. “Drink up.”

  She wasn’t much of a drinker. Being the child of an addict had that effect. Plus, alcohol was expensive. She swallowed the amber liquid and coughed as it burned its way down her throat.

  Nikki refilled Audrey’s glass and drank straight from the bottle of Glenfiddich. “We’ll both get fucked up, you’ll spill your guts to feel better, and neither of us will remember it tomorrow.”

  It made no sense, but Audrey didn’t care. She slugged back the whiskey again and held out her glass. “Sounds like a plan.”

  Audrey had no idea why she agreed. Maybe it was Nikki’s don’t-give-a-fuck attitude. Maybe it was knowing Gram was getting worse. In that moment, though, she felt incredibly alone and Nikki offered a reprieve.

  After the third shot, Nikki turned the TV on and booted up a video game. “Let’s kill some shit.”

  “Is that supposed to help?”

  “It can’t hurt.”

  “I didn’t peg you as someone who’d use gaming to de-stress.” Audrey picked up a controller.

  Nikki chuckled. “It’s sure as hell not my first choice for relaxation. I mean, really, it’s not like it could top fucking. But since I’m here...”

  Audrey slammed another shot and created a character profile for the game. They played in silence for a while.

  After the first round of killing, Nikki said, “You’re not drunk enough.”

  “Why do I gotta be drunk?”

  “You’re not talking yet.”

  “I don’t need to talk.” She’d never been much of a talker. Growing up, she’d never wanted to burden Gram with silly adolescent feelings or thoughts. She’d been an outcast in school. She hadn’t cared about grades, so people thought she was dumb. The only things she had talked about had been gaming and coding. Even though Gram didn’t understand anything about video games or computers, she’d listen to Audrey talk about each new thing she’d learned. Gram always supported her, no matter what.

  After two more shots, Nikki asked, “Ready to spill?”

  “No need.”

  Nikki poured another. “Look. I need your head in the game. And not this one,” she added, pointing to the screen. “If you’re distracted by personal shit, my ass is in trouble. So what is it? Man problems?”

  Audrey downed the whiskey and closed her eyes. “My grandma has dementia.”

  She choked on the words. Words she’d never spoken aloud. She always said Gram was sick or old or simply needed help.

  “That sucks.” Nikki refilled the glass.

  “She needs more care. Gonna cost more.” Was that her slurring? “I don’t have anyone but Gram.”

  “Fuck.”

  Another shot.

  And another.

  The graphics on the TV began to blur. She no longer cared how her on-screen character performed. Thoughts of Gram not recognizing her anymore swirled in her head. Her eyes filled and she blinked hard.

  “Give me that.” She snatched the whiskey from Nikki and drank straight from the bottle. It would be nice to forget everything for a while.

  * * *

  Audrey felt like crap when she woke up the next morning. Most of her night was a blur. She and Nikki had talked and played video games and eaten. They’d drunk. A lot. Then she’d puked at least as much.

  She rolled to the edge of the bed in the spare room. If she hadn’t been so drun
k, she might’ve enjoyed the spacious, perfectly comfortable queen-size mattress. A soft knock sounded.

  “You awake?” Nikki called.

  “Barely.” God, she sounded like she’d swallowed a frog.

  Nikki pushed through the door with a glass of water and coffee. She set them both on the dresser. “Take the pills, drink up and jump in the shower. Jay already called. He’ll be here soon.”

  “Doesn’t he have anything better to do than check up on us?”

  “Hell if I know. Maybe it’s because he has a thing for you.”

  “Huh?” Audrey vaguely remembered Nikki saying that last night. She lifted her shirt and sniffed.

  “You can borrow something of mine. It’d be better than going back home and missing your lover boy.”

  Audrey snorted. She picked up the pills and studied them.

  “Just aspirin,” Nikki said.

  Audrey looked at Nikki as she downed the pills. The woman didn’t look hungover at all. How was that possible?

  “Get moving,” Nikki added before she left.

  Audrey drank the coffee, which was too strong and bitter for her liking but better than nothing. She took the cup to the bathroom. One look in the mirror let her know she didn’t have to worry about Jay trying to be her lover. At least not today.

  She found a new toothbrush under the sink and brushed her teeth twice to get rid of the fuzzy feeling. Then she stepped into a shower that was damn near magical. No groaning pipes. Real water pressure. Super-powered jets. Yeah, jets, as in more than one. There was even a built-in bench. It took all of her willpower to not settle in to stay. The hot shower helped and her head no longer thumped.

  After squeezing the excess water from her hair, she wrapped a towel around her body and went to borrow Nikki’s clothes. She made it two steps out of the bathroom and almost crashed into Jay’s chest.

  Pulling up short knocked her off balance, and warm, strong hands steadied her. His tan fingers pressed into the flesh of her arms and she immediately imagined where else he might make those marks.

  “What are you doing?” he asked quietly.

  Swallowing hard, she said, “Going to Nikki’s room to borrow clothes. I fell asleep here last night.”

  Although he released her arms, she felt his chuckle more than heard it. “Based on the empty bottle of my whiskey, I’d say there was more than sleeping going on.”

  Damn. I’m going to kill Nikki. She had to know it was his. “I thought it was Nikki’s.” Although she should’ve known. It tasted expensive. She shifted to move around him. “If you’ll excuse me.”

  But he didn’t move. He stood there, doing his staring thing. “What’s wrong?”

  “I’m hungover.”

  “It’s more than that. Where did you disappear to yesterday?”

  “I had to take care of something.” She realized he probably thought she had another job, so she added, “Something personal.”

  “Anything I can help with?”

  No. The last thing I need is more help. I had enough of that with Nikki last night. “I have it handled. Where’s Nikki?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “She must’ve gone for a run. She’s weird like that.” Again, she angled around him. This time he let her go. “I’ll be out in a minute.”

  In Nikki’s room, she saw a pile of clothes on the bed, seemingly left for her. She put them on and checked her reflection. Jay was a little too perceptive. She couldn’t afford to have all these people up in her business. At the same time, she couldn’t afford to piss him off and get fired. She’d have to make herself indispensable so he’d keep her working.

  She schooled her face—all business, no flirting—and went to meet her boss, determined to prove her worth.

  * * *

  Jared waited in the living room, pacing. Catching Data in nothing more than a towel caused his blood to rush south, but having his hands on her made his mouth water. He wanted to taste her.

  As he cleaned up the empty bottle and glasses they left on the table, his unsettled feeling about Nikki and Data becoming friends grew. Mia’s concern had him considering how together they could possibly work against him and Mia. He hadn’t thought about Nikki corrupting Data. He didn’t even know where the thought had come from. He didn’t know her all that well, but he didn’t think getting drunk on a bottle of whiskey was the norm for her. For Nikki, on the other hand, it was just another night.

  The front door opened and Nikki came in carrying food. She set a bag on the corner of the table beside the drawing of Scott’s house and opened a box of doughnuts to offer him one. “The greasy breakfast sandwich is for Data, but you can have a doughnut.”

  “Very generous of you since I paid for it.” He took a chocolate frosted. This was the second time Nikki had brought specific food for Data. The woman appeared to have a soft underbelly when it came to their hacker.

  She smirked. “I told you that keeping me here would cost extra. Say the word and I’ll leave.”

  He knew better than to fall for that. She might land herself somewhere she couldn’t get back from in time for this job. “I can afford a few doughnuts.”

  “Be nice. She had a rough night,” she said as she closed the box.

  “I think that’s on you.”

  “Before I got her drunk.” She glanced over her shoulder. “Maybe you forget, but some people have lives outside your little caper here.”

  He shoved the rest of his doughnut in his mouth. He had forgotten that they had lives away from here. The people they’d chosen for this job were picked because of their seemingly isolated lives. No discernible family or obligations. Loners. That was what made them perfect.

  Obviously, he’d missed something with Data.

  She came from the bedroom wearing a concert T-shirt that was too small for her. It stretched across her chest, inviting a whole host of inappropriate thoughts to cross his mind. Her hair curled against her shoulders in soft waves, leaving wet patches on the shirt. The shorts clung to her like a second skin, so looking at her legs didn’t help clear his head. Forcing his gaze to her face, he looked for evidence of Nikki’s warning. But Data had shut down.

  Nikki tossed a sandwich at her. “Trust me. It’ll help.”

  “Let’s get this show on the road,” Data said to him. “I read your notes last night, but I have questions.” Sliding into the chair at the desk, she was all business.

  It wasn’t the same energy she’d had for the last few days. More than just the hangover. Something was off, but she wouldn’t tell him if he asked, so he plowed ahead. If she wanted to work, they’d work. Maybe that was her method for clearing her head.

  As she sank her teeth into the sandwich, she opened a spreadsheet and began inputting the information they had on the alarm system. She asked questions as she typed without looking up at him at all. Every time he didn’t have an answer, she responded with a huff.

  He needed to break her out of this funk. Although she was working, they weren’t actually making any progress, and her dreary attitude cast a pall on the whole apartment. He wouldn’t say she had a normally sunny disposition, but her energy had a way of zinging through the air.

  Since he had nothing else in his arsenal, he leaned his chin in his hand and stared at her. To her credit, she let him sit like that for at least ten minutes before breaking.

  “You’re staring again.”

  “You’re still fascinating to watch.”

  She rolled her eyes. “If this is fascinating, maybe you should sit with your assistant on a daily basis to get your groove on.”

  “Who said I had an assistant?”

  “You look like you would.” Her fingers stopped, poised over the keys, and she glanced at him as if to check for a lie.

  Dropping his hand from his chin, he leaned closer. “I do have a receptionist who polices my of
fice door. I don’t want people to think they can just stroll in. But I could never let a personal assistant run my life. I enjoy being in control far too much.”

  “Semantics.” Her lips separated with the intake of her breath and for a moment, they were frozen in time. Whatever attraction existed between them was suddenly supercharged. Her mouth was close enough to taste.

  And he wanted to.

  The phone buzzing in his pocket broke the spell and he pushed away to answer it. The corner of her mouth twitched and a gleam in her crystal blue but bloodshot eyes was one of victory. The same as she’d had when she figured out how to break into Scott’s house.

  This was definitely going to be an interesting couple of weeks.

  Chapter Seven—Mia

  Mia had burned through three different artists and none of them could forge the Gavin Mathis painting she wanted from Randall Scott’s house. It was modern art for Pete’s sake. It wasn’t like she expected them to imitate Monet or Rembrandt. But today, she had a good feeling about the artist she was going to see.

  London George had no degree in art but had worked in five different galleries without ever having her own show. As luck would have it, Jared heard through his contacts that she’d done some forging of documents on the side to make ends meet. Even better was that no one Mia knew in the art world had ever heard of her. She would be the perfect addition. With any luck, she could work fast since they only had a couple of weeks.

  Mia rang the bell on the seedy-looking building. The warehouse had been converted to co-op space for artists and musicians, but no amount of renovation would change the neighborhood. When the buzzer sounded allowing her entrance, she was met with noise from behind the doors leading to each loft. Some people rented space by the day, some by the month.

  She knocked on the metal door to 1C and waited, trying to ignore the heavy metal music pounding in the other lofts. The door in front of her swung open and a tall, thin woman wearing a paint-splattered apron said, “Can I help you?”

  “I’m looking for London George.”