“Something like that,” she replied, wishing he hadn’t voiced her suppressed fears out loud.
“Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that,” he apologized. “It was uncalled for and not very nice. I’m just worried about you.”
“It’s all right. I understand, I do, and you’re right. I am extremely careful though, and I like that you’re worried. I like it a lot.”
“I have a pair of handcuffs with your name on them,” he said, lowering his voice. “I think you should at least know how it feels.”
“I would actually love that,” she sighed, “though I have no idea why.”
“Then it’s a date,” he said, “and the sooner, the better.”
A short time later, he hugged her tightly and put her in a taxi home, arranging to meet her at The Sunflower at noon. It was early for Jane, she was rarely out of bed before nine o’clock and it was just past eight, but while she felt a bit tired, she’d been telling Henry the truth when she’d said she felt none of the awful dizziness. She’d soon be ready to execute the end of the job, and not only have the satisfaction of nailing the three haughty young women, she’d be able to help a struggling family she’d stumbled upon.
It had been a couple of years since she’d worked in the city, and though she was confident that Sylvia, Amanda, and Susan wouldn’t recognize her out of her red wig and glasses, the concerns Henry had voiced the night before were rattling around her head. Bernie had been adamant about being cautious; never take unnecessary risks, cover yourself more than you need to, if it doesn’t feel right, walk away. Vigilance, he had drummed it into her. Henry had recognized her when she’d walked into Candles, even though she’d been in disguise. Was she slipping? Confidence was the grifter’s gold. If she wasn’t one hundred percent confident, should she pull the plug and walk away from the girls?
Stepping from the taxi, she unlocked her front door, walked inside, and did the automatic scan of her surroundings. It wasn’t just the authorities about whom she had to be concerned. Those in the underworld who wouldn’t have dared touch Bernie knew she was operating by herself. It had been two years since Bernie had passed away and no one had bothered her, but that didn’t mean someone might take it into their head to test her, or swing by the house and check things out. She was well aware how things could change. After her blissful evening with Henry, the contrast in their lives was blindingly apparent.
She headed into her bedroom and, after starting the fire, she changed into comfortable sweatpants, a long-sleeved T-shirt, and thick socks, then lay down on her bed. She needed a nap, and as she closed her eyes and listened to the music of the rain on her window, she asked Bernie if her concerns were valid. Was her red wig and glasses disguise good enough? Was it flawless? Henry had recognized her. Had that been a warning from the hustler gods?
It was an hour later that she opened her eyes, and she did so with an answer. She knew what she had to do; she needed to set up a test run and let the girls see her sans the disguise. Susan and Amanda had mentioned they’d be at LaSalle for the first day of the sale.
“That’s today,” she mumbled. “I’ll swing by there after I see Henry. The timing should be perfect. They’re bound to go somewhere for lunch first, and speaking of lunch, maybe I’ll do something else as well, something to give my confidence a boost,” and reaching for the phone, she called The Sunflower.
Chapter Eleven
Glancing in the shop windows as he walked through the arcade to meet Jane, Henry paused to stare at a red chiffon scarf inlaid with gold thread. It was long and flowing, and was draped around a naked mannequin. Henry’s decadent imagination took flight, and he could see himself wrapping it around Jane’s body. Moving swiftly into the store, he was grateful the lone sales clerk wasn’t busy, and in just a few minutes Henry was walking out carrying the scarf packaged in a gold box, nestled safely inside the store’s paper carry sack.
Would he give it to her over lunch, or surprise her the next time she came to his house? How he loved such things; what to do when, the laying out of his implements in preparation, the unexpected ideas that would occur to him as a woman was bound and blindfolded, or gazing up at him with her eyes sparkling. But it wasn’t some random woman who was suddenly consuming his thoughts. It was Jane! He couldn’t wait to have her at his mercy.
He spotted the café at the back of an open courtyard, and hurrying through the light rain he pushed open the door. He was impressed. The café was small, but elegant, with white tablecloths and black serviettes. Glancing around, he saw Jane at the back of the room. Their table was set apart from the others, and offered a greater degree of privacy. Though it was early for the lunch crowd, the place was already lively. The restaurant was popular.
“Hello, handsome,” Jane said, smiling her greeting as he approached. “You’re five minutes late. I thought you’d be the punctual sort.”
“I am, but sometimes even the most reliable person can become distracted for a moment. I saw something in a shop window I had to buy.”
“Spontaneous? I like the sound of that.”
“Jane, you have no idea,” he said, lowering his voice and sending her a villainous look.
“Actually, I do,” she whispered, winking at him.
Her tummy was tumbling and she felt her thighs squeeze together, and stretching her arm across the table, she reached for his hand.
“Can you tell me what it was you had to buy?”
“I’m happy to give you a hint,” he said, lowering his voice. “It will be wrapped around your naked body the next time I see you.”
“Ooh, Henry, how can I possibly think of anything else until then?”
“That’s the general idea.”
“Here comes the waiter. Don’t question anything he says or does,” she whispered, releasing his hand.
Her request startled him, and he was about to question her but the waiter was nearing the table, so he sat quietly, though somewhat unnerved, waiting to see what would happen.
“Good afternoon,” the waiter said with a broad smile. “Your selections will be along momentarily; in the meantime, can I bring you some coffee or tea?”
“Tea, please, Irish breakfast if you have it,” Henry replied.
“That sounds great, Walter, thank you,” Jane said, then added, “and obviously, this is Henry, the man I spoke with James about. Henry, this is Walter. James is the manager here, but it’s Walter who really runs the show.”
“Oh, Jane, stop,” the waiter tittered. “I’ll be right back.”
As the waiter blushed and hurried away, Henry locked Jane’s eyes, a frown crossing his brow.
“All right, young lady, what exactly is going on here?”
“We’re having lunch,” she said merrily.
“You know what I’m asking you.”
“You said nothing criminal, and it’s not, now hush. Tell me about your work this morning.”
“I’m not sure there’s much to tell, especially compared to whatever is happening here. This is much more intriguing.”
“What is it you do?” she asked, trying to change the subject. “You told me you solve complicated problems. Can you give me an example?”
“I’m not sure I can explain it. It’s rather like trying to describe a color.”
“Oh, well, that’s impossible.”
“If you’re truly interested, research physics and quantum physics on the Internet. Physics is more like a general term. It involves mathematics, the study of energy and matter, and the basic laws that govern their behavior, the nature of the universe—”
“Like astronomy?” she interrupted. “So getting you that telescope was right?”
“Oh, yes, definitely astronomy, and the telescope… Jane, I truly don’t even know what to say about that. It was such a wonderful surprise. Why did you even think of doing such a thing?”
“Why? That’s like trying to describe the color red as well,” she grinned. “It just sort of came to me. Oh, excellent, we’re about to be fe
d.”
A young woman arrived carrying a tray with several dishes, and as she placed them in the middle of the table, she described each one in detail. There were six in all, small portions, but enough for both Henry and Jane to have several bites.
“My favorite is the goat cheese soufflé,” the waitress said earnestly, “and here comes Walter with your tea.”
“Thank, Julie,” Jane said warmly. “We’ll try the soufflé first.”
“Irish breakfast tea,” Walter announced, “and I’ve brought two pots because I know Jane needs one all to herself. I’ve never known a woman able to drink so much tea.”
“You’re the best, Walter,” Jane winked. “The absolute best.”
“I know you’ll enjoy those appetizers. I can’t wait to hear what you think. I’ll leave you to it.”
Henry stared down at the half-dozen dishes in front of him, then picked up his fork.
“I have no idea what’s going on here, but I don’t see anyone else getting such royal treatment,” he remarked.
“And you won’t,” Jane beamed. “Oh, wow, she was right, this goat cheese soufflé is amazing.”
“You must come here all the time to be treated so well.”
“No, but when I do come here, I make it count.”
“What does that mean? Do you bring your clients… or rather, your victims here?”
“I have no victims,” she protested in a hushed whisper. “Occasionally my contacts and colleagues, people in my business, we have gatherings. We’re like a large family. A few years back I persuaded them to use this place. It stuck, and when we have get-togethers we come here. It’s not cheap, but it’s a treat for all of us.”
“Is that why we’re getting all these different dishes?”
“Um, I’ll tell you about that later.”
“Yes,” he said firmly, “you most certainly will.”
When the plates were cleared, they were followed by six more small helpings of dishes that were on offer as a main course, and the same happened with dessert. As they took the last bite of the apple pie with warm custard that Jane had described as being the best she’d ever had, Henry agreed with her.
“You’re right, fantastic, and besides that, I think this meal has been one of the best I’ve ever had!”
“I’m glad you enjoyed it,” Jane said, grinning like the Cheshire Cat.
“I did, immensely. Now I need to get the bill,” he said, turning around to look for Walter, “and I think I need a stroll before I return to work, even if it is raining.”
“There’s no bill,” she whispered, “and keep your voice down.”
“What do you mean, there’s no bill?”
“Just what I said. When Walter comes back, tell him how much you enjoyed everything, and leave it at that.”
“Jane… what have you done? You didn’t pay for this, did you?”
She was about to say yes, then thought better of it. As good as she was at lying, she suspected he’d see right through it.
“No, but I’ll explain later. Here comes Walter. Just do what I said.”
“I’m going to leave him a tip, I don’t care what you say,” Henry frowned.
“That’s nice of you, but please don’t say anything else.”
Afraid Jane would end up in some kind of trouble if he didn’t do exactly as she’d asked, Henry left a twenty-pound note on the table, then told Walter how much he’d enjoyed the meal.
“It was our pleasure,” Walter said happily. “We do have an excellent chef here. I hope we see you again.”
“You will, for sure,” Henry assured him.
They waited until he’d left, then rose from the table and headed out the door. The rain had picked up, and they ran across the courtyard into the shelter of the arcade and started walking toward the street, but just before they reached the end Henry grabbed Jane by her elbow and stopped her.
“Right. Tell me why we just had an incredible meal and it didn’t cost a penny. I want the truth, and I want it now.”
“It’s not criminal, so does it matter?” she asked. “I mean, does it?”
“Absolutely it matters. Come on, out with it!”
She thought about trying to put him off, but studying his face she could see there would be no point. He wasn’t going to let her go until she’d given him an answer.
“It’s no big deal,” she began. “They think I’m a party planner, and I’ve referred a lot of people here. It’s not like I don’t send them business, I do, and not just people from my circle.”
“Being a party planner doesn’t mean you can get a meal like that for free. We were served samplings of… oh, I know exactly what you did. You told them I was a client, and I would be coming in with you for a taste testing. I’m right, aren’t I? What did you tell them? I’m throwing some big event and looking for a restaurant?”
“Uh, something like that,” she mumbled, almost withering under his scolding gaze. “It’s not criminal. That’s what you said, nothing criminal.”
“It most certainly is,” he exclaimed. “You just perpetrated a fraud.”
“No, I didn’t!” she protested. “All I did was tell a white lie.”
“Jane, you made false representations to acquire something of value, that’s fraud. It may not be thousands of pounds, but it’s still fraud. How many times have you done this? If they find out you’re not who you claim to be, they could press charges.”
“But I send them a lot of business,” she repeated, “and they know that.”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“I gave Walter a very nice tip, and along with what you left him—”
“You can stop now,” he grunted. “There are no excuses; nothing can justify what you did.”
“Are you mad at me?”
“I have no idea what I am,” he said honestly. “You’re so talented, Jane. You should be doing something with all the skills God gave you, not scamming restaurants and taking other people’s money.”
“So, then, you are mad.”
“I’m late getting back to the office is what I am.”
“Henry? Will I see you again? If you don’t think so, please just tell me. I can take rejection, but I can’t take not knowing.”
Crossing his arms, he leaned back against the window of the store behind him and stared down at her.
“Yes, Jane, you will definitely see me again,” he said soberly, “if for no other reason than I need to put you over my knee.”
“You do?”
“Of course I do. Don’t you think you should be punished for what you just did?”
“No, not really, it was fun, and I didn’t know it was criminal.”
“You’re splitting hairs. It was dishonest, and as wonderful as it was, and I will admit it was a terrific meal, you put me in an impossible position.”
“Why?”
“Why? Because if I’d said something I shouldn’t, you could have ended up being hauled away by the police, and I would have been hauled away with you.”
“Oh, sorry,” she said, dropping her eyes. “I hadn’t thought about that.”
“Don’t you understand? Every time you pull one of these stunts, it could be the one time you get caught?”
“That’s why I’m so careful. I’ve only had a tasting there twice before, and one time it was for real. It was to set myself up properly, but it was still for real.”
“This is impossible,” he scowled. “You’re impossible.”
“You’re getting angrier.”
“I’m becoming more frustrated,” he muttered, “not angrier. You’re such a bright girl, I don’t understand why you can’t see the foolishness of what you’re doing.”
“It’s how I’ve lived my entire life. I don’t know anything else, and I’m really good at it. Please don’t stay mad.”
“On one condition,” he said sternly.
“Anything.”
“No more phony tastings, and next time you’re in there, tell them you’re no
longer an event planner.”
“What?”
“You heard me. I can’t be a party to this. If I know you’ve removed yourself from their radar it will be one less thing for me to worry about. Do you promise?”
“Yes, Henry, I promise.”
“And don’t put me in the mix like that again. Are we clear?”
“We’re clear. I was only trying to do something nice for you.”
“I do appreciate the sentiment,” he said, his voice softening, then frowning again, he added, “That telescope, it’s not stolen or anything, is it? It has a serial number. I have to register it.”
“It is one hundred percent legitimate,” she said quickly. “I swear.”
“Okay, well, good. Sorry, Jane, I had to know.”
“Please, can I have a hug?” she begged, looking up at him with her best lost puppy-dog look.
Unable to resist her, Henry placed his package on the ground and wrapped her up in his arms. Closing his eyes, he felt her melt into him, and his mind flashed back to the night before. It had been magic. They fit, they fit so well it was almost frightening. He had no desire to let her go, not from his arms at that moment, nor from his life.
Chapter Twelve
Even though it was raining, Jane decided to walk to LaSalle’s boutique. It was about twenty minutes from the arcade, and after the upside-down conclusion to the lunch she’d thought would be so much fun, she needed to clear her head. Popping up her umbrella, she marched down the street, and as she walked she began to ponder Henry’s concerns.
Perhaps he was right. What she’d done was dishonest, but that was her life, and had been ever since she’d stolen the money from the tin can on the top shelf of the kitchen cabinet in her last foster home. The day she’d become Jane Campbell was the day she’d taken control of her destiny, and she’d done very well, thank you very much. Given their vastly different backgrounds, and how they lived in the world, was there any hope for her and Henry? Would she end up heartbroken and miserable? She was crooked and he was straight, painfully straight, but he was also the first man who had made her feel things, deep things, and those things weren’t just physical.
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