Page 101 of A Real Good Bad Thing
Here’s your cut of the diamonds.
I was so done.
Where was my towel? Because I was chucking it in.
I flung the candy ring into the lobby trash can. What purpose did this serve? The prank was disturbingly mean-spirited. They’d dragged me out of the room just for this?
Craaaaap.
My stomach hit the floor. My heart dived-bombed next. Then my butt dropped into a chair. What if the whole point was to lure me out of the room? Maybe to search it. Maybe to ambush me.
Maybe I watched too many movies.
When Jake returned from staking out Sapphire, I still sat in the lobby in my pajamas and flip-flops, sporting my new pedicure. In an instant, he was at my side, checking to see if I was all right. I was not all right at all.
“They won,” I said with tears in my eyes, then told him what happened. “I’m sorry, Jake. I give up.”
“It’s okay. I get it.” He rubbed my arms with his warm hands. My vision blurred and my eyes stung because the thieves were cruel, but Jake was…so caring. The way he’d taken care of me that afternoon. The way he was treating me now.
“Let me see what I can find out,” he said, then headed to the front desk to grill them.
That was another point in his favor. The capable way he handled the situation now, even though he returned a few minutes later with no useful info. Still, I’d never been more grateful for a partner when we headed back to the room together. Inside, he took the lead, peering in all the closets and behind the shower curtain. I didn’t know I’d needed that until he’d done it. But hell, did I ever need a protector tonight. I started to relax again. “Thank you,” I said, so grateful.
“Happy to do it,” he said.
“What happened at Sapphire?” I asked, sitting on the comfy king-size mattress while Jake headed to the bathroom to get ready for bed. Spoiler alert—sharing a room with him was easy, especially since he peeled off his polo, and leaned against the doorway, toothbrush in hand, shirtless. The view was better than the ocean. I loved his carved abs and strong muscles, but his scar and tattoo were my favorite parts of him—they said who he was. They said what mattered to him.
He regarded me curiously. “You want to know about Sapphire? I thought you gave up. Retired from the field?”
“I didn’t give up on being curious,” I said with a playful pout, but then I erased it, turning a bit more serious. “And I’m still invested in your success.”
I wanted him to have all the victories he’d worked so hard for.
“Monica the sex-toy diamond woman was there,” he said. “At first I thought she was tailing me again, but then she met up with Tristan. And then Nigel joined their cabal. I had a good view of them up on the balcony, but there was no way to hear over the dance music.”
That was a surprising trio. “Do you think all three of them are in cahoots with each other?”
“Why not? If you can have a team of two, why not a team of three?”
Why not, indeed?
I noodled on the question while Jake brushed his teeth. After he rinsed and spat, I asked, “What time did you see them there?”
“Maybe eight o’clock?” He reappeared. “What are you thinking?”
I tapped my chin, adding up the details. “That none of them can be Mr. or Mrs. Smith. They were at the club when the note was delivered.”
He gazed at the ceiling as if he were contemplating that. “Unless there’sanothermember of the team.”
I flopped back on the bed, exasperated. “I’m beginning to wonder whoisn’ton the team.”
Jake settled on the mattress next to me, brushing my hair back over my shoulder. “Are you regretting working so hard to bring Ariel’s Tours back?”
I heaved an exaggerated sigh. “Probably not.”
“Well, I’ll take that ‘probably,’” he said softly, brushing the back of his fingers across my cheek. “Besides, I’m sure enough for both of us thatthisis the only place I want to be right now.”
* * *