To Have and to Heist(30)
Rose had lost her driver’s license five years ago after driving the wrong way down a one-way street and knocking over a fire hydrant. She’d sold her old Volvo and now her garage was empty save for a mini kitchen, a few lawn chairs, odds and ends, and rack after rack of clothes.
“You’re welcome to the garage.” Rose waved a dismissive hand. “I don’t need the money. I have more than enough to get by. At my age it’s all about experiences.”
We finished our dessert and helped Chef Pierre tidy the kitchen. Rose kissed my cheek at the door.
“I’m looking forward to meeting your man,” she whispered in my ear. “I was beginning to worry about you. Use it or lose it. You know what I’m saying?”
“I don’t have a man.”
“What about your gentleman thief?”
“He’s a thief. I can’t trust him.”
“The bad boys are always the best in bed.” Rose sighed. “Stan used to be an enforcer for the mob. He tells me about his hits when we’re together. It really gets me going, especially when he’s describing arterial spray. If you hadn’t walked in the other morning—”
“See you on Sunday.” I pushed Chloe out the door. “Hopefully, by then we’ll have a crew.”
Nine
I guess I was expecting something out of a movie the first time I got everyone together: a serious heist crew gathered around a table, sharing their skills and considering the merits of various plans in a thoughtful and professional way.
What I got was chaos.
Chef Pierre had set up a buffet of French pastries on a rough-hewn table between the lawn mower and the tool bench in Rose’s garage. He and Rose were engaged in some kind of cream puff foreplay that involved Rose licking cream off his finger and Chef Pierre retrieving the cream with his tongue. My Uber driver, Emma, had jumped at the chance to join the heist and was now throwing balls of yarn at Anil’s drone and shouting something about a childhood trauma that involved bees while Anil munched his way through a bag of apples. Chloe was trying to set up a whiteboard that only had one leg and Gage looked like he wanted to be anywhere else.
“So this is your crew.” Jack folded his arms across his chest, one eyebrow lifted in what could have been either censure or dismay.
I folded my arms, too. “You say that like you could do better.”
“I couldn’t do worse.”
Emma spotted us at the door, stuck two fingers in her mouth, and whistled so loudly, my eardrums vibrated. I made quick work of the introductions. First names only and a brief description of each person’s role in the crew: driver, hacker, key master, muscle, gadget guy, grease woman, and me.
“Simi’s our leader,” Jack said when I hesitated over my role. “She’s in charge of this operation.”
“I’m not a leading type,” I murmured, keeping my voice low. “I’m a following type. I go with the flow. I’m the fly girl, wisecracking sidekick, or backup singer in a band. You said you needed a crew; I got a crew. But this has to be your show.”
Jack’s gaze swept the room. “There’re not my friends.”
“Except for Chloe, they’re not my friends, either,” I retorted. “They’re just people I know.”
Emma jumped on a chair, trying to catch the drone. Chloe had found Rose’s costume rack and was trying on an enormous feather hat. I couldn’t see Chef Pierre and Rose, but there were strange noises coming from the wardrobe at the back of the garage.
“Do you know anyone else?” he asked.
I didn’t understand why he was putting it all on me when he was the one with experience. “How can I be in charge if this is my first heist?”
“First heist?” Emma gave a fruitless swat at the buzzing drone. “What about the museum? Are you saying you’re a novice?” She trailed off when the door opened. I didn’t know who I was expecting, but it certainly wasn’t my dad’s junior tailor Cristian.
He was wearing cargo pants and Nike slides, a green Save the Trees T-shirt, and a Bears cap turned backward. He caught my gaze and shot me a flash of whitened teeth. “Looks like I got here just in time.”
* * *
◆ ◆ ◆
“This is your fault,” I pushed Jack up against the fence in Rose’s backyard, where Chloe, Gage, Jack, and I had convened to discuss Cristian’s attempt to blackmail us into letting him join the heist.
“My fault?” He gave an indignant sniff. “He’s your dad’s employee.”
“If you hadn’t come to the store in the first place looking how you look and acting how you act, Cristian wouldn’t have felt compelled to hide in the fitting room and listen to our conversation,” I retorted. “He’s insecure and he’s been trying to sleep with me since he started working at the store. You showing up looking all gorgeous and being flirty made you into a threat.”
“I get the impression Cristian spends a lot of time hiding in fitting rooms listening to conversations.” Jack’s lips pressed tightly together. “More concerning is the fact you didn’t notice he was sitting in the banquette behind you at the Black Dog.”
“It was dark, and he was behind me. You should have seen him.”
“I was looking at you.”
We stared at each other, chests heaving, tension shimmering in the air between us.