Taking Death (2 page)

As she approached her car, someone leaned against it. Didn't look like a cop.

She walked past the vehicle as if she didn't own it, not able to get a good look
at the man in the dark.

"Isn't this your car?"

She froze. How would anyone in Tribeca know what she drove?

She kept going, hoping the person hadn't notice her hesitation.

"Ma'am."

He spoke to her again. She didn't want to be wandering around the streets of T
ribeca with a diamond necklace in her pocket all night.

She spun to look at him. "What?"

"Isn't this your car?"

"How would you know what I drive?"

He stepped into the light of the nearby streetlamp. Her breath left her. He was one of the most beautiful men she'd ever seen. Dark, wavy hair that wasn't too long, but just long enough. She couldn't tell his eyes, but she knew his gaze bore into her.

"I saw you get out of it earlier."

Damn.
How could she have been this unaware?

This guy didn't have a vibe, like a cop, but he could still be dangerous. Despite how gorgeous he was.

Her heart fluttered in her chest while she figured out what to do.

"You were watching me?"

He smiled. "No, I just happened to be walking down the street. You didn't seem like you belonged here."

She glanced down at her black attire, then back at him? "Not rich enough?"

"Something like that," he said.

"Why did you wait for me?"

He glanced up at the dark sky. "There was something so beautiful about you."

She stepped back. Way too charming.

"No," he said. "I mean it. You move like a cat and I was intrigued. I had to meet you."

"That's a great line, but I'm not falling for it."

But her sweaty palms and racing heart said differently. She wanted to step closer to this man. To get a better look. Maybe even see him in daylight.

Or rumpled from sleep.

She shook off that thought. Why was this guy affecting her so much?

"W
ould you like to go get a drink?"

Her mouth engaged before her brain and she said, "Yes."
 

Jon. That was his name Donna finally found out as they sat at a small cafe table in a neighborhood bar. The establishment sat a block from where she'd parked her car and in the opposite direction from the penthouse she'd just robbed.

Prints from the Impressionists hung on the walls. Some sculptures made out of every day materials sat on shelves. Everyone wore black. The place looked like it had been transplanted from 1960s Berkeley California.

The diamond necklace still occupied her pocket.

She'd never done this before.

But something about Jon made her switch her plans for the night.

He smiled as he sat down with their drinks. Hers, a Guinness, and his a glass of wine. Chard, the name of the bar, attracted a more upscale clientele than Riley's. Donna shifted in her seat, not completely comfortable with this crowd.

Oh, she loved the finer things in life, but having grown up in a trailer park, she was always sure someone was going to call her out. Someone would peg that she hadn't had such a genteel upbringing. That she was a fraud. Not only for having made something of herself, but supplementing that income by nefarious purposes.

Hanging with cops seemed so much easier.

"A penny for your thoughts," Jon said.

He reached over and touched her hand which sat on the table. He didn't linger, but in that contact he conveyed warmth and concern.

She blinked. Was he too good to be true?

"Where did you come from?"

He laughed and the melody of it enveloped her such that she had to smile. Her heart sang as if it had finally found a song that matched its rhythm.

She tamped down the feeling. She was sitting in a bar with a guy she just met after stealing a diamond necklace. Nothing about this situation wasn't surreal. Her mind couldn't fathom why she had agreed to this drink.

Calculating just how much time she could take to finish her beer and be on her way, she took a gulp of the brew. Then she wouldn't see him again.

She could secure the necklace and get it to the fence in a day or so.

"Well, I was born in New Jersey, but I don't think that was what you meant." His eyes sparkled with amusement. "I realize this is odd, but sometimes you just see someone that you have to meet."

She ran her finger down her glass. Since Guinness was served cellar temp, no condensation formed. "How long would you have waited?"

"Another hour. I had nothing to do."

She looked around the bar. "You don't think someone in the neighborhood would have called the cops on some guy loitering?"

"I'm wearing a designer suit and shoes. I'm carrying a briefcase. I fit into this neighborhood." He paused to look over her outfit. "Probably better than you do."

For the first time in this encounter, she really looked at him. His suit looked as if it had been tailored for him. He wore it like a
second skin as if he wore clothes like this since birth. Maybe he had. He had that air about him. That he'd come from money.

Old money which didn't shout. Instead it sat quietly, but if you looked hard enough, you could see it. The tie was striped and but only two colors, blue and gray.

Her gaze went back up to his warm eyes. Eyes she could get lost in. "So you live here?"

"Not far."

Another man in a suit walked into the bar. His was also expensive and probably tailored. Maybe she did stand out more than she hoped. "Were you walking home from work?"

"Yes."

She looked at her watch. "A workaholic?"

"To be coming home this late? Yes, but I'm not usually out at this time. Must be kismet that I saw you."

She held up a hand. "Let's not pour it on too thick."

Her heart wanted to guard against this man. He made her feel as if she were the only woman in the room. She wasn't the prettiest here. That wasn't insecurity, that was a fact. She knew she wasn't bad looking and if she worked at it, she could be gorgeous. Her looks were
just not important to her.

"So what about me made you stop?"

"Your confidence."

Wearing black and slinking down the street didn't really speak of confidence. She'd hoped she usually went by unnoticed.
That's how she wanted to be in most of her life. Just under the radar. Then again, she had always been told she carried herself well.

"You don't believe me," he said.

"I know that I don't stand out."

"You work at it. Not standing out. But you do."

Not a question but a statement.

"Why do you say that?" she said.

"All black. And not the 'I'm from New York' all black." He looked around the bar. "Like the patrons here."

She followed his gaze to those who sat at the bar. Yes, they were in black. Just like she was. None of them probably had a balaclava in their pocket.
Or a stolen diamond necklace. Her eyes returned to his mesmerizing ones. "What's the difference?"

"The New York Black is designer from head to toe. Yours is more Old Navy than Fifth Avenue."

She nodded. "I see. Is that what made me stand out? You thought you read me as a person in need of saving? A person not comfortable to navigate New York?"

"Don't get defensive. I said it was your confidence that attracted me. You don't need brand name duds to stand out."

She frowned, not sure if she'd done a bad job hiding or if he was just charming her.

But he was charming her and she didn't want to be charmed.

Well okay, she kind of liked it, but she didn't want to like it.

As much as she didn't want to admit it, this man intrigued her. Every hair of his dark brown hair was in place. His hands had no callouses and they rested on the table. He didn't fidget. His clothing spoke of wealth, but he didn't seem to be a snob.

"Instead of questioning the situation, why not sit back and enjoy it?" he said.

"And how should I do that?"

"By getting to know me. And I'll get to know you."

"You first."

He cocked his head. "Sure. I'm an art dealer."

This piqued her curiosity, but if she were to pursue anything with this man, she could not steal from him. His
clients were another story. They probably had more money in their wallet than most people had in their bank accounts.

"An art dealer?"

"I also own a small gallery. And my clothes today are because I was meeting an older client who still likes people to wear a suit that he does business with. I am usually dressed a little more Bohemian than this."

"But your suit and how you wear it speaks of old money."

"Yes, I grew up rich. It helped me with my chosen career."

"And you're successful at it."

He ran a hand through his hair which was the first movement he'd made since they sat down. He showed no nervous energy. That made Donna want to fidget for him.

He smiled. "Moderately. I also have a trust fund."

She nodded. "I see."

"You did not come from money," he said.

She tried not to flinch. "No, I didn't."

"Tell me more. About you now. Not then."

She pressed her lips together. Should she invent a story?

He reached out to take her hand. "Don't be afraid. I won't judge."

Looking down at their intertwined fingers, she cleared her throat. "Nothing really exciting to tell. I'm an accountant for a small firm. I handle other people's money all day."

"And what does Donna do for fun?"

The topic was beginning to warm her. As was his large hand in her small one. His skin had a darker tone, but that was not surprising. She was pale from her Irish heritage. "You're not going to believe this, but I go to art galleries."

His head went back as he laughed. His whole trim body shook with it. "I don't think you are charming enough to lie to me."

She had to laugh with him as his was so infectious. "No, I guess I'm not."

He rubbed a thumb on the back of her hand. "So we have that in common."

"Are we searching for common ground?"

"Of course. If you don't think we have anything in common, then you won't accept my dinner invitation."

"What dinner invitation is that?"

"The one I'm going to extend before your beer goes flat."

She glanced down and realized that she hadn't taken another sip. The foam had gone. Odd. She always enjoyed a fresh Guinness, but now it wasn't so fresh. She took another gulp anyway. "Guess I lost track of time."

"Good. It means you are enjoying yourself. You've stopped looking at the door as an escape, too. So how about dinner? Friday night?"

She reviewed her schedule. She had to get to the fence on Friday, but dinner would be later than that in true New York style.

"Sure."

"Don't sound so enthusiastic," he said. But his smile softened the snark of the words.

"Should I jump for joy?"

"No, but your reticence is challenging to me. I bet you have a strong lock on our heart."

She couldn't help but flirt back. "And do you plan on picking that lock?"

"No, I plan on charming you so that you will open it yourself."

***

Donna stared at her computer screen the next day not seeing the numbers on it. She'd found herself doing that more than once this morning. She had to stop.

"Earth to Donna," Kelly said, startling her out of her reverie.

Her assistant stood right by her desk and Donna had not heard Kelly come in. She held two paper bags that from the smell of them had Chinese food inside.

"Is it lunch already?" Donna said.
Her stomach rumbled.

To Donna, breakfast had just happened. Her coffee sat cold on her desk. She cleared the top of her desk.

Kelly put the sacks on Donna's desk. "Yes, my dear and I don't think you've touched that keyboard in an hour. What is up?"

Donna shook herself. Her mind had wandered to her encounter with Jon last night. She could not get him out of her mind. Never had a guy so entranced her. She must be losing it.

"Must be a guy," Kelly said, unpacking the food. She smiled a knowing smile.

A frown creased Donna's face. "Why do you think that?"

Kelly paused in her unpacking to give her boss an incredulous look. "Because no woman looks like you do over anything else."

Donna
thought up a lie then decided to come clean. "Okay it is a guy. I met last night. Had a drink with him."

"Give me the deets," she said, picking up her lunch and settling into the chair opposite Donna.

"Like what? His name's Jon."

"Where did you meet? Things like that."

Donna could not reveal the location. She didn't have a plausible story for being in Tribeca. "Where doesn't matter. We went for a drink then he asked me to dinner."

"It has to be way more interesting than that for you to be staring at your screen all morning," Kelly said.

Donna was not sure how much she wanted to share with her friend. This was pretty personal for her. Especially because she wasn't sure if she wanted a relationship. But Jon had not been out of her mind for most of the day. She'd even dreamed a hot, steamy dream about him.

"He's an art dealer," she said finally. That was a detail she was willing to give up.

"And you love art. What a match. Are you going to see him again?"

Kelly looked at her with rapt attention
making Donna uncomfortable. She'd never been one of those women who shred every aspect of her life.

"We're going to dinner tomorrow night."

"Where?"

Donna held up her hand to stop the interrogation. "Maybe you need to get a date so that you aren't so fascinated by mine."

"You are no fun," Kelly said, frowning. "I tell you all about my dates."

She picked up her lunch.
"I just like my private life private."

"I'm not posting it on Facebook. We're just talking in the office. What does he look like?"

Donna pictured Jon's face. He was one of the most beautiful men she'd ever seen. She tapped her chin with her fork. "He's cute."

A groan escaped Kelly.
"Cute? A puppy's cute."

Donna frowned. "You're making more of this than there is."

"No, I'm not. If he was not a big deal, you'd tell me everything."

Maybe she was right. Maybe Donna was making more of this than there was. Though she hadn't had anyone invade her thoughts the way Jon had. She shrugged it off. Dinner then he'd probably lose interest in her.

***

The pawn shop had several customers when Donna arrived with her booty. She hoped Derek had an answer for her on the egg. The necklace wouldn't be so challenging.

After waiting a few minutes, Derek entered the back room with a big grin on his face. "Got a place for that egg."