Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 115763 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 579(@200wpm)___ 463(@250wpm)___ 386(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115763 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 579(@200wpm)___ 463(@250wpm)___ 386(@300wpm)
A commission piece for a Mob boss? Definitely not. But how do you say no? And truthfully, I don’t want to say no. My creative muse is begging to get their paws on that ring and reminding me that I promised free rein after that blah-boring but beautiful pink eternity band.
“Okay,” I say, at least 50 percent sure of this plan of action. “When and where?” I figure I can ask Dominic, Griffin, or both of them to come along as my bodyguards. Hell, maybe the whole Hawks team, just to be safe.
“Now. Thomas and Mark have a car waiting for you.”
The bark of laughter that escapes my chest is tinged with hysteria, because there’s absolutely no way that’s happening. “I am not getting into a car with those two. I’d end up on milk cartons, with my parents on the nightly news, begging for my return. Which, by the way, if anything happens to me, the police will be on your doorstep first because lots of people know about the missing ring. Lots of people,” I emphasize. Okay, so it’s more like three—Griffin, Dominic, and Talia, but that doesn’t sound nearly as threatening.
He chuckles again, the sound just as worrisome this time because I’m not exactly known for my top-shelf humor, and his even-keeled voice and formal demeanor don’t make me think he is either. “I mean you no harm, Miss Lee. You have my word, which can be trusted.”
“People, especially men, telling me they’re trustworthy is kind of a big red flag. Especially when they have a reputation like yours. I’m sure you understand.”
“Indeed,” he concedes. “My men are there to apologize, genuinely, and then drive you to my restaurant. Nothing more. Believe me, they have been suitably chastised for scaring you.”
Chastised for scaring me? He makes it sound like they got a good, stern lecture, which isn’t nearly enough. But also, a lecture from Miles Conniver would definitely be enough to scare me straight.
I’m still not stupid or blindly trusting enough to get in a car with them, though. I have some sense of self-preservation. “I’ll take a rideshare.”
“As you wish.” He gives me the address for the restaurant, and a moment later, the two guys in the hallway walk away. I’m still plastered to the door, watching through the peephole to see if they make a move toward busting it down.
Aqua Est Vita is gorgeous, fancier than any place I’ve ever eaten, for sure. Inside, the hostess greets me warmly. “Miss Lee? Mr. Conniver is waiting for you.”
As I follow her, her stiletto heels click-clack on the tile floor, while my Sambas squeak. Because you can bet your ass that I wore tennis shoes after the ridiculous amount of running from Conniver’s men I’ve had to do over the last few weeks. I’m dressed for a business meeting, in slacks and a blouse, hoping for the best, but with touches of personality . . . and safety in mind.
As we walk deeper into the restaurant, I search for anything that sets off my alarm bells, but there’s nothing. People are dining happily, with black-outfitted servers bustling about. A bouncer-looking guy, who isn’t either of the ones who’ve been following me, stands near a table in the back, clearly my destination.
When we reach it, Mr. Conniver politely rises and extends a hand. “Ah, Miss Lee. Thank you for coming. Please sit,” he says, making no mention of what it took to get me to agree to this little chitchat, the promise of getting to work on that gorgeous ring. And a $10,000 deposit. Apparently, I do have a price and am a total slut for a special diamond.
He looks . . . wealthy. Manicured, coiffed, well dressed, with an air of elegance and importance. He doesn’t look scary, but looks can be deceiving, so I’m careful as I shake his hand and sit across from him.
A hint of a smile ghosts across his lips before he covers it by sipping his coffee. “Again, I assure you I mean you no harm. Nor do my men. I am truly interested in your designs.”
“And again, forgive me if I don’t believe that for one second, when they’ve been stalking me, literally hunting me down across the city.”
He tilts his head, agreeing. “Fair point. All in a vain attempt to hide their mistake with the ring in the first place.”
“How did the ring end up at Yesteryear? Carolynn would never sell something without permission.” Does it matter? No, but it’s been bothering me, and given the curious kitty at least died with answers, I’m asking questions.
Mr. Conniver cuts his eyes left and right as though someone might dare to eavesdrop on him, which is laughable. Even his table has a wider berth around it than the other tables. And no one is sitting at the four closest ones surrounding us. “Oddly enough, that’s related to why I’ve asked you here. You see, I’m going to propose to my beloved, so there’s been some reorganization at my home in preparation for her moving in. Some items for donation, some for resale, and one special piece of my mother’s was meant to go to the family jeweler for resizing. I’m afraid there was a mix-up, but thankfully it’s been corrected now.”