To Have and to Heist(6)
“You would choose Chloe over your own father?” My father slapped his hand over his heart. “Homelessness and unemployment instead of a job?”
“Rohan.” My mother looked up from wiping the table. “You can’t throw our only daughter out on the street.”
“I’ll pay time and a half,” my dad said. “You won’t get a better offer.”
My lips quivered with a smile. If there was one thing my family loved, it was the art of negotiation. “I can’t believe you think I’d blow Chloe off for money,” I said with feigned indignation. “What kind of friend would I be?”
“What kind of daughter would leave her father shorthanded at a critical time?” he retorted.
“A daughter who needs money.”
Dad made a show of shaking his head. “Double time.”
“Done,” I said. “But you’ll have to make it up to Chloe. She likes your dal tadka, paneer masala, methi saag, lamb biryani, and chicken coconut curry.”
My dad’s face softened. He had a sweet spot for Chloe and her daughter, Olivia. “I’ll cook on Saturday, and they can have it for Sunday dinner.”
“Then we have a deal. Chloe will have to go without me.”
* * *
◆ ◆ ◆
?“Polka dots or flowers?” Chloe held two dresses in front of her phone camera. She’d been cool with me backing out of the museum tour to help Dad at the shop, especially because the consultant who’d hired her online had gone from friendly to flirty in the last few days, even hinting that he hoped their evening would continue beyond the museum.
“It depends on who you’re trying to impress.” I twirled around on one of the stools in Dad’s shop beneath a rainbow wall of thread. “Polka dots are artsy but sophisticated and would appeal to the executive director of a museum, especially one based in a historic building. The flowers are more you, but if you want to hook up with your hacking buddy—”
“He’s not my buddy. He’s a security consultant who was hired by the executive director of the museum to find ethical hackers to do penetration testing of their new security system to identify and patch up weaknesses. His name is Michael P.”
I’d suggested several times that Chloe turn her ethical hacking side hustle into full-time work, but with Olivia to care for, and a deep-seated lack of confidence, she preferred the stability and benefits of her help desk job.
“What about the rest of his last name?”
“We’ve only corresponded online,” she said. “His e-mail address and his handle were all Michael P.”
“If you plan to hook up with Michael P, you should wear something that screams, ‘Take me now.’？”
“Who wants to be taken now?” Cristian looked up from his phone. He was wearing his favorite cargo pants and a skin-tight black shirt with Social Justice Warrior written in cursive across his chest. He played competitive soccer in his spare time and claimed to volunteer at an animal shelter, although I didn’t know if the latter was true. I preferred to admire his sexy smile, lean toned body, chiseled jaw, and run-your-hands-through-it-while-he’s-ravishing-you hair from a healthy distance in case he caught me looking and tried to get into my pants. In the short time we’d been waiting for the delivery truck, he’d called three different women and told each of them that she was his “special baby girl” and that he was coming to see her tonight.
“Go back to your womanizing,” I said. “I’m sure you’ve got a few more ‘special baby girls’ waiting to hear from you.”
“You’re jealous.” His soft tawny bedroom eyes smoldered. “But don’t worry. I can schedule you in next week for a little Cristian love.” He checked out his reflection in the window and smiled. He knew he was drop-dead gorgeous. If I hadn’t done some social media stalking and seen the visual evidence of his inflated ego and his fixation with sex, even I wouldn’t have been immune to his charms.
“Uh-uh no way nope.” I checked the street again for the truck, still clinging to the faint hope that it would arrive early so I could catch Chloe at the museum before she left. Traffic usually slows in the Loop after seven p.m. when everyone has left the city for their cozy homes in the suburbs but picks up again at nine p.m. because of airport traffic. Dad often schedules his deliveries for that low traffic window.
“Is that Cristian talking?” Chloe asked.
“Yes. He thinks I’m desperate to get him into bed.”
“I’m not going to get anyone into bed tonight,” she said. “My wardrobe screams ‘struggling single mom.’？”
“That’s why I left my black dress in your hall closet. It’s the one with the lace overlay and plunging neckline. You can put a cute sweater over it to meet the executive director, but when you go for drinks with Michael P—”
“Have I mentioned recently how much I love you?”
“You brought bleach to a possible murder scene. I think that says it all.”
“Say what?” Cristian looked up again. “Did you murder someone? I’ve never slept with a murderer before. I’ll give you whatever you need, baby. Cold bath. Knife play. Coffin. I’ll even let you put a bag over my head if it gets you off.”
“Don’t tempt me.”