The atmosphere in the van was thick with disappointment and unfulfilled promise. No one spoke until the limo returned forty minutes later.
“It’s over,” I said into the silence.
Doors slammed, followed by the low murmur of conversation. I caught a few words, uttered by two male voices.
“Gunshot over the water . . . probably from the other side of the lake . . . boater . . . nothing out of the ordinary . . . glitch in the system.”
The voices disappeared. Steps faded into the distance. Emma knocked on the door to let us know the coast was clear. Chloe did a last check of the outdoor cameras, and a few minutes later we were all in the limo and on the road.
“We didn’t get it,” I said when she lifted an eyebrow.
“No big surprise.”
“Why is it not a surprise?” I leaned forward over the seat. “If you thought we’d missed something, why didn’t you speak up?”
“The odds were against us,” she said. “Too many variables. Too many things to go wrong. In my experience, things like that are doomed to fail.”
“I like surprises,” Anil said. “One year my family pretended they’d forgotten my birthday. I felt sad all day, but then I walked in the door and ‘Surprise!’ They’d invited my friends and our family for a party. It was so amazing, it made up for the bad day.”
“I’d hate that,” Emma said. “A whole day of feeling like shit just for ten seconds of happiness? No thank you.”
Anil’s smile faded so I said, “I think it sounds fun. I’ve always liked surprise parties.”
“Why don’t we have a party after the wedding to celebrate a job well done?” Anil suggested. “It may be the last time we see each other.”
“I don’t know if I’m going to feel like partying.” I slumped in my seat. “We had one chance and we blew it. The house will be filled with people for the next two days. We’ll give Bella the best wedding ever, help her escape, and then . . . I don’t know. Chloe and I might have to take Olivia and disappear.”
“I thought you’d have a plan,” Emma said. “You always have a plan.”
“Why does everyone always expect me to have a plan?” I stared out the window, watching the trees rush by. “I don’t have any special skills. I can’t even hold a steady job. I’m living in my parents’ basement, drowning in debt, and working for my dad. Are those the kind of qualities you need in a leader? I don’t think so. No wonder it failed.”
“Babe . . .” Chloe reached out, but I pulled away.
“Don’t. I want to wallow in my misery. Alone.”
That was how it was supposed to be. None of this—the crew, the heist, the wedding, the dreams of getting out of debt and following my passion—was real. It had been a stupid fantasy. If I closed my eyes, I’d probably wake up in Kansas.
Twenty-Three
I couldn’t even look at Cristian the next morning at the store. Every time I heard his voice, I couldn’t help but wonder what would have happened if he’d been at the restaurant instead of Rose. Would he have been able to convince the wedding party to stay long enough for us to open the second safe?
“Hey, baby.” He sidled up to me when I was in the staff kitchen pouring my fourth cup of coffee. “Let Cristian turn that frown upside down. Why don’t we sneak away at lunch for a little Netflix and chill?”
“Are you serious?” I spun around to face him. “Do you really think I’d sleep with you after you abandoned us?”
“Wow.” He jerked back, hands up in a defensive gesture. “I thought you were cool with it, but my bad. I should have told you what was going on. My girlfriend blew me off for one of my closest friends. It really triggered me. I had to deal with a lot of rejection as a kid and I just wasn’t in the right headspace to handle the risks of the heist. That’s on her. She destroyed my life and ruined everything for you. I hope you can forgive me for falling for someone like that. I’m sure it was a huge success, and now that you’re rich, could you lend me a twenty?”
I was tempted to lie and tell him we’d found the necklace and I was now rolling in cash, but I felt so defeated, I couldn’t make the effort. “It all went to hell.”
His brow furrowed. If I didn’t know Cristian was all about Cristian, I would have almost believed his concern was real. “What happened?”
“There were two safes. It wasn’t in the one we cracked. We didn’t have time to try the second one because Rose couldn’t keep the wedding party at the restaurant. She decided to sing the world’s dirtiest songs. I’m surprised they didn’t call the cops.”
Cristian leaned against the counter, sipping his kombucha green tea. “So what’s the plan?”
“Why does everyone think I’ve got a plan?” I grumbled. “I haven’t even had a chance to process what happened. Anil must have texted me a dozen times since last night and I ignored him. Emma called me a quitter and told me to go reset. Chloe set up a crew meeting for tonight, but for what? I’ve got nothing. No solutions. The wedding is tomorrow, and I’ve got a million things to do. I had to ask my dad for the afternoon off and I really can’t afford to lose those hours.”
Cristian backed away with a grimace. “I’d offer to help, but—”
“I know,” I snapped. “You’ve got six dates lined up. You need to buy your aunt’s dog a new sweater. You’re going to see some strippers. I don’t need to hear your excuses.”
I pulled out my phone to let Chloe know Cristian had gone full “fuckboy” on me, but before I could send my text, my phone dinged with a message from Bella.
My father wants to see you at the house this afternoon.
“What’s wrong?” Cristian asked. “You look like you’re about to pass out.”
“Mr. Angelini wants to see me.” I swallowed hard. “What if he knows we were there last night? What if Chloe missed a camera?”
“I knew I made the right call backing out.” Cristian slapped a hand to his chest. “Can you imagine what he’d do if he found out I was boning his wife? What if he called the police? Guys like me don’t do well in jail.” He pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket. “I need a smoke.”
“It’s not always about you, Cristian.” My fingers were flying across my phone, letting everyone know they should prepare to leave the city if it turned out we’d been seen.
Cristian made strange eye contact with me. For a moment, I thought he was going to cry. “That’s what my mother used to say.”
* * *
◆ ◆ ◆
?At the end of my shift, I joined Dad in the break room. He’d made a pot of chai and I poured myself a cup and pulled up a chair at the table.
“What’s wrong?” Dad asked.
“Why do you think something’s wrong? Maybe I just want to have a cup of chai with my dad before I leave for the day.”
“You never have chai with me at work,” he said. “Are you sick?”
“No, I’m not sick.” I sipped my tea, breathing in the soothing scents of vanilla cream, cardamom, nutmeg, and cloves.