Break and Enter Page 7

  “Yeah. So I think I’ve identified a friend of Drake’s. He’s having lunch with her as we speak, but it doesn’t look romantic. I’ve seen them lunching together a few times this week. I think she’s my way in.”

  “Huh. What’s your approach?”

  Alex shifted on the bench to see the reflection of the café in the store window across from her. She didn’t want to keep turning around. It wasn’t working, so she got up off the bench and walked down the street to the corner.

  “I figured I would use the whole ‘I’m new in town, just coming off a rough break-up or divorce, and I need a friend’ shtick. I’ve done my research, and Caterina Sinclair is the sympathetic type. She’s on her own after a bad breakup a couple of years ago. The café she owns is finally a success after years of struggling on her part. I’m thinking I’ll approach her as someone who’s in the same spot she was once in. Chances are good she’ll respond.” She crossed the street with the light and moved over to sit down on another bench. The restaurant was only a few doors down. She could see a couple of Drake’s security guys from here, so she would know if he moved.

  “And if she doesn’t? Not that I’m doubting your acting skills, kid, but...”

  “There are a couple of others I can approach if this doesn’t work. I found an article in one the local magazines about last year’s party. Apparently, Drake always invites a group of his school cronies to this event. I can always hook up with one of them to get an invitation, but most of them are incredibly repugnant. Quite frankly, I would rather strike up a friendship with Caterina.”

  “Well, sounds like you got it under control. Let me know if you need anything.” Leo coughed again. “In the meantime, I’m working on the delivery angle. Ms. Sterling is getting antsy. She has decided to throw her husband a late birthday party/barbeque on the Monday of the long weekend. She says she wants to give him the gift at the party. I told her that wasn’t the deal. She tried to push back on the timeline, but I told her that we would walk. This type of thing can’t be rushed. She apologized and begged for us to stay on the job. If at all possible, she would like to get it back for the party, but if not, she’ll live with whenever we can get it.”

  “Well, if all goes well, she’ll have it in time for her barbeque. Drake’s party is Saturday night.”

  “Still”—Leo hesitated—“you could wait until Drake leaves town. I can’t imagine he’ll be hanging in the Hamptons for too much longer, and it’s unlikely he’ll bring it with him. You could steal it back once he’s gone. Security would be laxer. It would be a much easier job.”

  “You just told me Diana wants it ASAP.”

  “She can wait,” Leo growled.

  Alex frowned. “What’s this about? Are you getting cold feet?”

  “Lass, I have a bad feeling about this. Have from the beginning.” Leo sneezed again.

  “Bless you. Leo, are you getting a cold?”

  “I think so,” he said, his voice muffled. The next thing she heard was the sound of him blowing his nose. She grimaced as she pulled the phone away from her ear.

  When he was back, she said, “I think the cold is interfering with your mojo. We are going to be fine. The party will give me the perfect opportunity to repossess the item in question. By next Monday, Diana will be giving her husband his birthday gift and we will be on our way out of here. Stop worrying so much. Let your nonna make you some soup and then have a nap. You’ll feel much better. I’ll call you later.” She clicked the red button and put her phone back in her pocket.

  Leo knew better than to say anything negative once they were past the planning stages of a job. She didn’t need any negative vibes floating around her. No, she had to believe the job would go smoothly. That Caterina would get her on the guest list. That she would reclaim the gift, deliver it, and get out of town. And she’d already decided she would get a friend at one of the big culinary magazines to write a glowing review of Caterina’s restaurant. This friend owed her big time, and it would ease her conscious to do Caterina a good turn. It was the least she could do. She hated using people, especially women, but sometimes it was a necessity in her business. She always tried her best to make it up to them.

  With that decided, she stood up and turned away from the cafe. She really didn’t need to watch Drake right at this moment. He didn’t have the item with him, so it wasn’t going anywhere. Still, she liked to get to know her target’s habits. The more she watched, the more she learned—and she could certainly learn more about his security team. Mitch Callahan was going to be a thorn in her side. She walked back across the street and turned back in the direction she had come. There was a boutique she’d noticed on the walk up—Giselle’s.

  She entered the narrow space. It was deceiving from the outside. It went back further than she’d imagined. It was tastefully decorated in lovely shades of blues, browns, and greens, very much like a summer day on the beach in the Hamptons.

  “Hello,” a voice purred from behind the counter. Alex looked up into the smooth face of who she guessed had to be the shop owner. The woman’s neck and hands indicated she was in her late sixties, but the work she’d had done on her face put her at forty-five. “Can I help you?”

  Alex gave the owner her I’m friendly but not overly so because I have more money than God smile. “Yes, I would like to try on the dress you have in the window, the green one.”

  “Of course,” the woman behind the counter responded immediately. Smug satisfaction had Alex smiling. Yup, she could read a person at fifty paces. She had to play this friendly but aloof. That was the way women with money acted, or at least the classy ones. And she would know since she’d grown up around them. She could pull off this act with her eyes closed.

  The woman brought over the dress in Alex’s size. “There are a few other items in the shop that are similar if you would like to see them. Why don’t I put them in a dressing room for you while you have a look around? That why you can try them on at your leisure.”

  Alex smiled. “That would be perfect, thank you.”

  The shop owner walked over to the first dressing room at the back of the store and hung up the green dress. “I’m Giselle. Please let me know if you have any questions.”

  “Of course.” Alex smiled. She took a quick look around the shop before heading into the dressing room. Giselle had put two more dresses in there for her to try on. She started stripping off her disguise—the bag, the sunglasses, and the hat. The brown wig stayed on. She hadn’t bothered with contact lenses today. The sunglasses offered plenty of protection, and she found the contacts made her eyes dry out and turn red.

  The first thing she tried on was the little white cotton sundress Giselle had brought over. It had little cap sleeves with a deep scoop neck in the front that showed off some of her curves nicely. It was fitted to the waist and then had an A-line full skirt that stopped at the knee. She put it on and started adjusting.

  “How are you doing?” Giselle called from somewhere close by.

  “Fine.” Alex pushed the curtain aside and stepped out. “Do you have a three-way mirror?”

  “Yes, of course. Right over here.” Giselle led her back to the front of the store. “That looks beautiful on you.”

  “Thank you,” Alex murmured as she stood in front of the mirror and gave herself a once-over. The white didn’t do much for her pale skin, but it was only the beginning of summer. In a few months, her skin would be a sun-kissed golden brown, and the white would pop then.

  The style was not something she would usually wear. The capped sleeves and the A-line bottom were a bit 1950s for her taste, but it would be a great camouflage dress. That’s how she thought of certain outfits in her closet. Even if she retired, which was a big “if,” she would always have camouflage outfits in her closet. She didn’t think it was necessary to always show the “real” Alex to the world.

  She’d been in the spotlight so much as a child. She wasn’t interested in having the world know that she preferred jeans to yo
ga pants or speculate on if she was pregnant or not. She hated the very idea of people following her every move on social media. It made her ill to even contemplate that.

  She glanced in the mirror one last time and nodded. It would do nicely. It was bland and hid her real figure, like a suit of armor or a uniform. She headed back to the changing room.

  The bell jingled, indicating that someone had entered the store, and Alex heard a couple of new female voices. They greeted Giselle warmly, old friends by the sounds of things, and moved toward the back of the store.

  Alex tried on the next dress. The jade-green jersey fabric was super soft to the touch and had a halter neckline, which was extremely flattering on her. It ended with a slight flare just above the knee. She was sure the dress fit her perfectly. Alex once again pulled the curtain aside and walked over to the mirror. Giselle was caught up discussing some health issue with her friend at the back of the store, so she didn’t come over this time.

  Alex had been right—the dress clung to her curves, accented her long legs, and brought out the green of her eyes. It would look even better with her real blond hair than it did with the brown bobbed wig she had chosen for this job or the black one she’d worn to the casino. She did a little twirl so she could see the back. The halter top left most of her back bare so she hadn’t bothered putting on a bra.

  “This one looks much better than the other one.”

  The voice sent shivers down her back, and she whirled around to find herself face-to-face with Mitch Callahan. “Uh, sorry?”

  “The other dress, the white one, doesn’t suit you nearly as well as this one does. This one accentuates your…” His voice trailed off as he ran his eyes over her entire body. The corners of his mouth turned up slightly. “Eyes.”

  He was leaning casually on the wall just inside the doorway, a spot that gave him a view of the whole store and out the store window. His muscular tanned arms were crossed over his chest, making his navy T-shirt pull at the shoulder seams. He was also wearing her favorite pair of faded jeans. She knew they would hug his gorgeous butt even if she couldn’t see it at the moment. She had spent enough time looking at him through binoculars over the last week to know exactly what his ass looked like in those jeans. He wore them whenever he was off duty. He wore black cargos when he was working and they looked mighty fine as well.

  “Thanks for your unsolicited opinion. I’ll make a note of it.” She rolled her eyes. Great. Now she was getting clothes advice from the enemy.

  “You’re welcome.” The smile grew, and his gray eyes seemed to sparkle at her. “This is the perfect color on you. You’re too pale to wear white. Maybe later in the summer after you’ve spent some time in the sun. Even then, the cut is wrong for you.”

  She arched an eyebrow at him. Where did he get off telling her what to wear? “I see. You’re a fashion expert, are you? Spend a lot of time studying women’s clothing?”

  She knew she should be hightailing it back to the dressing room and getting out of there, but she couldn’t help herself. She loved sparring with her opponent. Nothing like a little game of cat and mouse to get the blood rushing though her veins.

  “You’d be surprised.”

  “I’m sure. Well, Mr. Whoever You Are”—she turned around and looked in the mirror—“it just so happens I agree with you. This dress is better than the white one, but the white one also has its uses.” She turned back around and gave him a smile. “If you’ll excuse me.” She walked back toward the dressing room.

  “Callahan.”

  She stopped and turned back to him. “Pardon me?” It was official. She had lost her mind. Rather than ignore him, which she knew she should do, she’d stopped to talk to him, engage with him. It was like her body had a will of its own. Leo was going to flip his lid when he found out about this.

  “My name is Mitch Callahan.” He pushed off the wall and walked toward her. He moved like a panther, all pent-up energy just waiting to pounce. Stopping just in front of her, he offered his hand. She looked down at it, her nerve endings tingling in anticipation of his touch…and yet something told her it would be the most dangerous thing she’d done yet. If she indulged in skin-to-skin contact, she wouldn’t be able to escape. Panic gripped her throat and for an instant she was compelled to run.

  She bit her tongue, and the pain cleared her mind. She was being stupid. She shot out her hand and grabbed his, pumping it once before trying to let go, but his large hand held on to her much smaller one. A gentle hold, but she could feel the calluses on his fingers. She looked up into his gray eyes. His smile grew and turned sexy.

  He flipped her hand over as if he was going to kiss it, and her breath hitched. No man had ever kissed her hand before. She’d always laughed at the weak-minded ninnies in books who swooned over courtly hand kisses, but now she was not so sure. She looked at his lips. They were quite full, and suddenly she found herself imagining what it would feel like for those lips to kiss more than her hand.

  “I-I’m sorry?” He had been speaking, and she had no idea what he’d said. His eyes sparkled with mirth. Great, now he was laughing at her. She needed to focus. This man was beyond dangerous to her.

  “Do you have any more to try on? I’m happy to help out, provide you with sound sartorial advice.”

  She gave him a tight smile. “I’ll keep that in mind.” She yanked her hand away and turned back around, making a bee line for her dressing room. Once inside with the curtain pulled, she leaned back against the wall and pressed her hands to her cheeks. She could feel the heat in them.

  She had been studying this man for the past week. She knew to the tips of her toes that trying to get through his security would be one of her toughest jobs yet, so engaging with him on a personal level was just plain stupid.

  She took off the green dress and reached for her own, but her eye caught on the last outfit Giselle had pulled out for her. It was a little black number, more of a cocktail dress. She shouldn’t. She needed to be smart about this. On the other hand, maybe she could use this development to her advantage. If she did use him to get an in with Drake, at least she wouldn’t have to play Caterina. She pursed her lips and then reached for the dress.

  He wanted to play?

  Well, now it was game on. May the best player win.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Mitch was being a dumb ass. He never should have entered the store. The right move would have been to keep following her to figure out from afar what she was planning. She was a thief, after all, and she wanted something from his client.

  It had been dumb luck when she’d walked past the window of the dry cleaners. He’d recognized her immediately. There was just something about the fluid, graceful way she moved that had stuck with him. It was his afternoon off, but he’d been trying to track her for days, so he followed her.

  Now he was in a clothing store giving out fashion advice like he knew what he was talking about He wouldn’t have done this for any of his former girlfriends, so what the fuck was he thinking?

  He ran a hand through his hair and rolled his shoulders. After his thief’s visit to the yacht, he’d done some research, figured out where she’d been staying. It was a matter of logic, really. She’d happened by the yacht just after Drake had left. He reasoned it wasn’t dumb luck but that she was watching it. Where was the best place to scout out the yacht? The hotel next door.

  He’d started at the front desk asking questions, but it wasn’t until the bell hop approached him that he learned she had stayed there up until a few days ago as Carrie Bradshaw, which had made him smile. She obviously had a sense of humor. The information had cost him fifty bucks, and the bell hop had no idea where she was staying now. Neither did he. Wherever it was, it wasn’t under the same name.

  He surveyed the store and the street as he leaned against the wall, keeping an eye out for anything unusual, as was his habit. He heard the changing room curtain slide across the rod and looked up. Their eyes locked. Her eyes were the color of emeralds. H
e guessed she was likely wearing a wig, but there was no way those eyes were anything but real.

  He gave her a once-over as she walked to the mirror. The dress was killer. Whereas the green one was perfect for day wear, this black one was for the night. A night of incredibly hot sex. The blackness of the dress accentuated the creaminess of her skin. It was like a second skin, moving with her, and it made every motion seem like an invitation to touch her. That dress was made for one thing and one thing only, getting laid.

  Catching his eyes in the mirror, she asked, “So, what do you think of this one?” She cocked an eyebrow at him.

  It was the sexiest thing ever. Not just the dress, but the sight of her standing there, arching an eyebrow at him, waiting for him to comment. He couldn’t help but picture her in his bed, wearing nothing but her strappy sandals and that look. He cleared his throat. “I think it looks…sexy as hell.” He ran his eyes over her again.

  She smiled and then turned back toward the mirror. The plunging V-neck showed off her high, round breasts, and the form-fitting material made her waist look tiny. The dress clung all the way down, so it hugged her ass in a way the last two hadn’t.

  “Hmmm. I don’t really have anywhere to wear it, though. Seems like a waste to buy a dress like this and not wear it.”

  Was he crazy, or was she flirting with him? Man, she had balls. Their gazes locked again, and there was no mistaking the taunting look in her green eyes. What was the saying? Keep your friends close but your enemies closer. If that was the way she wanted to play it, game on.

  “I’d be happy to take you out so you can wear that dress.”

  “And where would we go?” she asked.

  He smiled. “I can think of a few places.” His bed, for one. “What do you say? Are you up for a night out?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t know anything about you.”

  “That’s not true.”