To Have and to Heist(25)

“You complicate my life when you say things like that,” he said. “I’d appreciate it if you could be less interesting.”

I didn’t know if he was flirting or joking or just trying to pass the time, but I was as far from interesting as a person could get. My job didn’t involve danger or excitement. Paparazzi weren’t hiding in the bushes every time I stepped outside. I wasn’t jetting off on foreign vacations or hitting a home run at Wrigley Field.

“Which side do you dress?” In tailor speak, it was a delicate way of asking which way his private parts hung—to the left or right of his zipper. Some men thought we asked the question to put a little extra room on that side of their pants. In fact, we asked it before taking the inseam measurement because we didn’t want to get too personal when working in that region. The few times I’d forgotten to ask, I’d had an unexpected surprise.

Something wicked flickered in his eyes. “I thought you’d know since we’ve already been intimately acquainted, or were you wiggling your ass against me in the bushes for another reason?”

“I wasn’t thinking about pants at the time.”

“Neither was I.” He licked his lips, his devilish grin drawing laughter up my throat.

“Behave,” I said, although I knew I’d be disappointed if he did. “Right or left?”

“I don’t give out that kind of information until we’ve had at least one kiss.”

I called his bluff with one of my own. “I’ll get Cristian to finish up.”

“Left.”

Without glancing up at him, I ran the tape up the inside of his right leg, and then low over his hips. There was a bulge that I hadn’t noticed before. Not that I’d been looking.

After I’d inputted all the data, I checked with the tailors. Only Cristian had time to help Jack after we were done.

“Cristian must be on a break,” I said. “He should just be a few minutes. Feel free to browse.”

“Maybe you could help me narrow things down while I’m waiting. What would you recommend?”

“It depends on the event. Cocktail party? Charity fundraiser? Bar mitzvah? Is it indoor or outdoor? Formal or casual? Is there a theme? A celebration of any particular culture? My summers are taken up with weddings, so there’s very little I don’t know on that front. I haven’t seen an original wedding idea since my cousin smuggled an elephant into Huntington Beach so he could ride it for his baraat. It’s a procession for the groom.”

Jack shrugged on his jacket. “Were you there?”

“It was an elephant. Of course I was there. After the baraat, I went to see him up close and the trainer let me ride him back to the truck.”

“Interesting.” He stroked his chin, considering.

“Why?”

“I wondered if you were the kind of woman who would run toward an elephant or run away from it. Now that I know you’re up for a little adventure, we may be able to help each other.”

After spending half an hour with my hands on his magnificent body, I was up for help of any kind. “Will we be naked?”

“Much as I would like to say yes, I was thinking about your other problem.” He leaned down and whispered in my ear. “I know who took the necklace.”

A wave of relief washed over me. Chloe was safe. The horrible ordeal was finally over. “Oh, thank God. I can call Detective Garcia and—”

“You can’t call the police,” he said quickly. “The thief no longer has the necklace. He gave it to a fence—that’s a middleman between a thief and the consumer of stolen goods.”

“I know what a fence is.” Rose was going to be so jealous when I told her I’d met a thief who knew a real-life fence. “Do you know who he is?”

“Yes, but he’s very well connected at all levels of government—mayor’s office, governor, a senator or two, maybe even the White House. If we gave his name to the police, the necklace would disappear before they could get to it, and we’d never see it again.”

“I don’t understand . . .” Hope disappeared under a tidal wave of disappointment.

“I know where he’s keeping the necklace,” he said. “But I can’t get to it on my own. I need help.”

My hand flew to my mouth. “You want me to help you steal the necklace from someone else?”

“I like to think of it as a retrieval, or better yet, a repossession,” Jack said. “It doesn’t belong to him. It needs to go back to the rightful owner.”

“Beta,” Dad called out. “I need you in the back. Cristian can take over if you’re done with the measurements.”

“I’m not a thief,” I said, turning back to Jack. “I don’t know the first thing about pulling off a—”

“Heist.” Jack smiled. “That’s what we call it in the business.”

“I’m not in the business.”

“Not even to save your friend?” He trailed an idle finger along my jaw, warming my skin. “Or yourself? If the necklace is found, say, in a corner of the museum where it might have been overlooked, there would have been no theft. I doubt the gallery director would want to press charges for the trespass if nothing was taken.”