Days Of St Croix

by Felicity Pepper

Twenty-Two

  Paige sat down on the bed and wiped the last few tears off her face with a hotel flannel. She had to check out in a few minutes and then figure out what to do next. She had no money and no return ticket to California. Her brother was expecting her to arrive at Oakland Airport in a few hours. On the bed beside her, a white canvas vest with Velcro tabs on each side lay unused. She had intended to strap the cash to her body before boarding the plane, but now there was no use. Even if she had a ticket, she would be going home empty handed.

  What she couldn't understand, though, was why she felt so miserable.

  She had pulled off this con with her brother, Brian, three times before. Each time, they were completely successful. The secret was finding the right mark, and she and Brian had come up with a perfect plan. Spend enough time in one of the wealthy beach towns in California and sooner or later you couldn't avoid bumping into a rich kid who was on vacation from some fancy school back east. It had worked perfectly in Newport Beach, Santa Barbara and Half Moon Bay. The end of summer parties along the beaches were an endless stream of open houses, music and drinking. The perfect place to stage a deception.

  Paige pulled a bag out from under the bed and started throwing clothes in. She was tired. After Jas had left the night before, she had sat for a long time in the chair beside the window, wondering why she cared that he had rejected her. Sure, he was not bad looking, but all her marks were. The difference with this one was that he had seemed genuinely nice, not the usual self-important, party-minded rich boy she had taken him for. She had even intended to let him sleep with her, and she didn't think she would have hated it, either. Jas had a gentleness about him that she hadn't known in another guy for a long time, and he seemed really into her.

  But halfway through their tumble in the sheets he had suddenly stopped, pulled his clothes back on and practically run out the door. When he was gone, and it was clear he wasn't coming back again, Paige had sat in her underwear smoking Lucky Strikes and staring at the room.

  If she was honest, she knew that the con wouldn't work forever. She had even wondered what might happen if she was caught out and her mark had gotten violent. She kept a small folding knife in her luggage just in case, but the thought of having to use it seemed so bizarre that she had never even opened it. I'm too smart, she thought, to let things get to that point. But then Jas had surprised her with his outburst earlier. He had figured it out, and he was angry. But even then, with Jas yelling at her in the room, she had never felt in physical danger.

  All she felt now was sad and exhausted. She finished packing her bag and zipped it closed. Then she went into the bathroom to fix herself up. If she was going to get out of here, she would need to find some lonely chump in the bar to give her the money for a ticket back to California. Luckily she still had a few tricks up her sleeve.

  Mills stepped out of the cab and onto the street in front of The Imperial. She pushed a twenty dollar bill through the window and the driver pulled away. She had a small Luis Vuitton under one arm which contained her dress; she wasn't about to walk into a hotel at lunchtime in her evening wear. She planned to let Jas get the first look at her tonight alone in their hotel suite before going downstairs for dinner. In the meantime, she was dressed in her favorite hip-hugging True Religion dark blue jeans and a little pale cream calfskin jacket she had bought in Milan last year. As usual, every male head turned to look at her going up the steps to the hotel, and one middle-aged guy practically fell over himself to open the door for her, holding it until long after she passed through into the lobby.

  Mills stopped and looked around, taking a deep breath. For the past hour she had been unable to get a song out of her head.

  "Sky rockets in flight, afternoon delight," she hummed to herself, then smiled broadly. She couldn't help it. She wasn't nervous; she felt like a little girl, excited on Christmas morning. Jas had texted her the number of the room and she planned to go right up, but she didn't see the harm in making him wait a few more minutes. She glanced over at the bar, where a cute barman was polishing glasses. There was time for a martini, wasn't there?

  Jas fluffed the pillows again, straightened the comforter and stood back from the bed. It looked fine, but he couldn't relax. Mills would be arriving any minute, and he told himself it was just nervous anticipation, but for some reason he knew there was another reason he felt anxious. He couldn't bear the feeling that someone was mad at him, and even though that person was Paige, whom he was justified in hating, he still felt bad for her. If it was true what she had told him about her brother, she had a tough time ahead of her. He didn't feel like he owed her anything, and one part of him hoped he would never see her again, but something about her leaving this way made him uncomfortable.

  Jas pulled out his cellphone. He wanted Paige gone, but he wanted closure; for himself as much as for her. He wanted to enjoy the afternoon with his mind fully focused upon Mills, and however crazy it sounded, he couldn't do that without making sure Paige was okay. Sometimes, being a good guy meant putting aside your grievances and moving on. Yeah, and sometimes being a good guy was a pain in the ass.