by Romi Hart
Tyler sniggered, and I stood. “That’s the right idea. And on that note, I’m out. I’ll see you later, bro.” I gave a weak salute and went through the front of the store to exit.
And saw the Mercedes across the street right away.
I lit a cigarette, pretending not to notice as I walked away. But no one in the Bronx drove a Mercedes, and it stuck out like a sore thumb. Not that it mattered. I’d spotted her on foot two days ago, following me around. Admittedly, she was better than the other PI, but not that good. And her pretty face was hard to ignore.
I don’t know why I hadn’t mentioned her to the guys. Then again, they’d asked about Wesley Morton, not tails in general. And maybe a part of me had a soft spot for women. After spending eight years without seeing a pretty girl, I didn’t want to risk the guys taking matters into their own hands and scaring her. Besides, she was smoking hot from head to toe, and as long as she was following me, I had a nice view.
Sighing to myself and wondering how long I was going to let this go on, I climbed on my bike and took my time getting on the road, watching the black Mercedes and wondering if that was ‘slumming’ for her. After all, she’d inherited her father’s estate, which last I knew, was worth more than $18 billion, not including the art collection that no one could accurately value. Stephen Cohen had made sure no one knew every painting and statue he’d collected.
Except me.
I’d never shared that information with anyone, and I never would. Hell, I didn’t even know if Cohen’s daughter had kept all of them after his death. I hadn’t had time to do a lot of homework on her before she’d replaced her PI, dogging my heels. I’d left his apartment at six in the morning the day after I dismissed Wesley Morton, and she’d been on me from that point forward. She wore all black, all the time, and while it flattered her figure, I thought it was a little comical.
I drove north with her two cars behind, and I made sure she could follow easily, signaling with each turn and making sure there was space for her to follow me around lefts. I didn’t go straight home, though. I decided to stop for coffee at the bodega downstairs from my third floor walkup. I missed my house in Yonkers, missed the memories there, but I’d sold it years ago, letting Sam handle the finances so I’d have something to use when I got out.
I ordered an Americano and a caramel cappuccino, with a pastry I wolfed down and a bagel with cream cheese. When I left the building, I spotted the glint off the luxury car immediately, a block down and facing away from me. She obviously expected me to go home, parked almost directly in front of my front door. But I wanted to see just how determined she was and how hard it would be to scare her away.
Mina
One thing I’d learned over the last two days was that Jasper Cunningham never stopped moving, and following him was truly exhausting. But as he pulled into the parking lot across from his building, I relaxed and parked. He didn’t seem to spend much time in this neighborhood unless he was going home, so even when he didn’t go straight upstairs, I settled in for a long wait. He’d get something from the store, and as long as I kept my eye on the entrance to his apartment building, I’d know where he was.
I knew he had friends in an unofficial motorcycle club, but I couldn’t find any implications that they were involved in anything illegal. And Cunningham’s job as a bouncer seemed to be legit. I couldn’t fault him for getting the work, since the sort of felony charge he carried couldn’t make it easy to find work. But I was definitely angry that he was sliding back into regular society so easily. I just wanted to see him locked up, where he suffered for what he did to Daddy and couldn’t do it to anyone else.
I jumped as the passenger door to my car opened and would have pulled my taser while chiding myself for not locking it had I not been terrified. And it didn’t get any better when the intruder lowered himself into the seat and closed the door behind him. He held two paper coffee cups and a paper bag. “I thought you might be hungry,” he said, holding out one of the cups and the bag to me.
“Get out of my car!” I cried at him, my righteous anger riding above my fear.
“I guess I was right,” he smirked. “You’re actually hangry. Here, eat this, and you’ll be more welcoming.” He shoved it toward me so I had to take it or risk the hot liquid spilling all over my cashmere sweater.
“I said, get out of my car before I call the cops.”
He clucked his tongue and shook his head. “I’m sorry, but I think that would be a very bad idea, since I would just press charges for stalking. And when I tell them you’re the daughter of the man who caught me trying to steal his paintings, they’ll believe me.”
I blinked at him, my mouth moving but nothing coming out. I couldn’t figure out how Jasper Cunningham had made me, and I certainly didn’t know how he recognized me. I’d been fifteen when the trial started, sixteen when he was sentenced. And I was a late bloomer. I’d looked like Olive Oil from Popeye back then, and I liked to think I’d morphed into a butterfly in my early twenties. The fact that he knew who I was devastated me. And pissed me off.
He shrugged. “I have to say, I remember a sad little teenager, but you’ve matured nicely.” His eyes roamed up and down my body, and I stiffened. He had no right to look at me that way! “Who’s the lucky man who gets to touch you every night?”
“Shut your filthy mouth, and don’t look at me like that!” I was seething, and it came out more as a hiss than anything. Having him this close sparked so many emotions in me, I could hardly control myself. I wanted to lash out and tear up his face, beat him bloody. But the man I remembered wasn’t quite this hard and toned. He’d made use of his time in prison, and his body was finely etched with muscle, his face narrower with sharper angles, set off by the shadow over his chin and cheeks.
And the blue of his eyes sparked a stormy gray when he was angry, as he was now. “I just brought you food because you haven’t eaten since seven this morning, and that’s how you repay me?”
“How do you know I haven’t eaten?” I retorted.
He snorted. “Because you’ve been following me since six, and that was the last time I ate. You had some sort of oatmeal sludge stuff and an apple. It’s a great start to the day, but it’s after two now. You should replenish.”
I couldn’t understand why he cared, but the coffee smelled delicious, sweet and inviting, so I took a sip. It hit my empty stomach with an unexpected warmth, and I peeked inside the bag. A bagel. My stomach growled. “I’m not stalking you,” I told him, sounding like some petty little girl.
“Then tell me why you’re following me.” He rolled down the window, putting a cigarette in his mouth.
“Can you not smoke in my car?” I groused, reluctantly taking a bite of the bagel – fresh and layered with whipped cream cheese.
He hesitated, then shrugged. “Well, I can wait a few minutes, but I suggest you tell me quickly why you’ve been stalking me for two days – and had a really bad PI doing the same before that – or all bets are off.”
The car was new and still smelled like the leather interior. I didn’t want anything screwing that up, but I didn’t know how to get rid of him. This man was a criminal, and I had to remember that. Criminals could be desperate people. If I didn’t tell him, there was no telling what he might do to try and get it out of me. And if I did, he might completely freak out on me.
But something didn’t add up. Wesley had sounded terrified, but so far, other than getting in my car uninvited, Jasper Cunningham hadn’t done anything scary or threatening. And unless he’d had time to poison my food or drink, he’d offered something kind, though he had no reason to be the least bit nice to me.
Thinking on my feet, I told him the first thing that came to mind. “I was curious.”
He raised an eyebrow at me and repeated, “Curious.”
I nodded. “You’re right, I was a kid when you went to prison, and I didn’t know anything about you. I just…I had to know the man who almost stole some of the most expensive paintings
in the world from my father.”
He narrowed his eyes at me and nodded slowly. “I guess I can accept that. But you could have just introduced yourself and asked. And for what it’s worth, I’m sorry for what I put your family through.”
I stared at him, mouth agape like some fish out of water desperate for air. Had Jasper Cunningham just apologized? I knew I looked ridiculous, but I just couldn’t wrap my head around it. This man was so selfish, so bent on getting rich quick, that he hadn’t cared what happened to the people he stole from. He’d caused my father’s heart attack. Daddy was dead because of him. Men like Jasper Cunningham didn’t apologize.
I guess my silence bothered him because he started talking, as if to fill the awkward air between us. “I didn’t mean to scare you. Well, not really. I just wanted to catch you off guard because I could tell you underestimated me. So, are you still curious?”
My head was spinning, and I was barely following, so it took a minute to realize he’d asked me a question. “Curious. Yes, I’m still curious.”
He put on a teasing grin that completely disarmed me. Whatever else he was, no one could ever claim that Jasper Cunningham wasn’t drop dead gorgeous. He had that rugged handsomeness that came with being less than affluent, hard and tough and strong and masculine. He was everything my father would have hated anyway, everything he wanted to protect me from when I was in high school, the reason he’d insisted I go to an all-girl private school.
“Are you going to keep following me, then, or are you open to other options?”
I scowled. “Like what?”
He shrugged. “Have dinner with me. Get to know me for real.”
I didn’t know what to say to that. The last thing I wanted was to spend any time with this guy. But I couldn’t exactly keep following him. At this point, it would be stalking. If I wanted to catch him in the act and send him back behind bars for the rest of his miserable life, I really only had one choice. It took every bit of strength and determination I had to answer him. “I suppose I could have dinner with you. Once.” I wasn’t committing to anything else. After all, I could always find a better investigator. I just needed to buy the time to seek one out.
“That’s all I’m asking.” His grin broadened, showing off a row of bright white teeth. Why had I pictured a miscreant with blackened and missing teeth, rotting gums? I needed to check into dental care in the prison system. It might be better than the public sector. He held out his hand. “I guess proper introductions are in order, even if we do know each other on some level. I’m Jasper.”
I hesitated. I’d spent the last ten years of my life hating Jasper Cunningham. Did I really want to touch him? Since I wasn’t choking or gasping for breath from poison, I decided he’d redeemed himself enough that I could shake his hand. “Mina.” I didn’t make any other gestures or try to act like I was pleased to meet him or anything. I just wished he’d never come into my life at all. But I tried to be cordial.
“Mina. I like that. Well, Mina, I’m going to pick up your phone and send a text to mine so we have each other’s number. And I’ll call you later so we can set up the date.”
“It’s not a date,” I corrected him. “And text, don’t call. I don’t like talking on the phone.”
He rolled his eyes. “Everything changes. I thought women loved talking on the phone all the time. I apologize for being out of sync with the times. I’ve been a little sheltered for a few years.” The bitterness in his tone made me wonder if he regretted his actions because he’d gotten caught or if he’d truly repented. It wasn’t for me to figure out. I only had to send him back to jail, without passing go or collecting two hundred dollars.
I watched him type, then heard the ding of his phone as he received the text. “Just for future reference, Mina, you probably want to find a POS to drive out to the Bronx next time, or at least a standard Toyota or Nissan. The Mercedes is too flashy for the area.” That was his parting remark, and he got out, instantly lighting his cigarette and waving back to me over his shoulder.
I was speechless. What the hell had just happened? One minute, I’m tailing the heartless criminal who killed my father, and the next, he’s demanding answers and asking me to dinner. I really needed to find my balance before I lost perspective. Those icy blue eyes of his and that easy, charming grin could manipulate shit into diamonds and snow into gold. I certainly didn’t need to let my guard down and risk him softening my heart.
Chapter 3
Jasper
As I climbed the stairs and unlocked the door to my apartment, I told myself not to be stupid. I was born in the day, but not yesterday, and Mina Cohen was not simply curious about me. She was a terrible liar, and it didn’t add up, unless she was the crazy type that obsessed over men and had developed some sick attraction to me during the brief time we’d been in the same courtroom years ago.
That didn’t mean she wasn’t a cock tease.
She was absolutely gorgeous, and I had to assume she got her looks from her mother, since her father was nothing special. And she had this scent about her that I didn’t know whether to contribute to perfume or her natural smell. It was intoxicating.
And none of those assessments came from a desperate need to get laid. My libido had been dormant for a long time, since before I went into the system, and this was the first time I’d felt a twitch. My physical reaction had shocked me to the point that I’d almost forgotten why I’d gotten in her car to start with. My palms were sweaty. What the hell was that about?
Even now, I had to adjust myself inside my jeans, just thinking about the way her lips curved around the edge of the coffee cup and the way she brushed her white-blonde hair back from her face, as if it annoyed her beyond tolerance. She should cut it if it bothered her, but something inside me wanted to shove my fingers deep into the mass before she did.
I tossed my coffee cup angrily in the trash and launched my keys across the room onto the counter. Whatever was wrong with me, I had to get it under control. My only goal here was to figure out what she was up to. Did she know about the list I had? Or was she beyond that, trying to set me up because she felt like I destroyed her life in some way? I didn’t know enough about women today to understand them, other than that so many of them would go to incredible, insane lengths to punish someone for some perceived wrong.
Cindy had been an exception to the rule.
I put that thought out of my head right away. I’d suffered enough, carried around a lot of anger and pain for too long, and I had to let it go. That didn’t mean I needed to go on a spree, sleeping with anything that had two legs and a pretty smile. Besides, even by those standards, I didn’t need to think about Mina like that. She had never smiled at me.
I took a cold shower.
By the time I got out, shivering and cursing myself, I was thinking more rationally, and I realized I didn’t believe a word Mina said. She had another agenda, and I had to find out what it was. I was almost positive I’d catch her following me tonight when I left for the seedy bar where I’d landed the bouncer gig. She wouldn’t give up that easily, and I probably would have been disappointed in her if she had, since she seemed a lot stronger than that.
The question was, how would I get her to own up to the truth? I couldn’t exactly tail her, since I fully believed she wasn’t done dogging my heels. So, I had to find another way. In the past, I would have lost her and broke into her place, looking for clues. But I didn’t think that was smart. I could only imagine the security system she’d have after my previous intrusion, and I doubted I’d find anything of informational value.
I could probably get my hands on one of those paintings I tried to nab before, but that would be royally stupid. I’d be the first man fingered, and I wouldn’t have time to take a piss, much less stash the loot, before I had cops up my ass.
There was another alternative, though, and I’d already made a move in the right direction.
I’d always hated hearing people say that you should keep your friends
close and your enemies closer, but do a stint in a state penitentiary and you’ll learn how important that philosophy is. If I’d accomplished nothing else today by getting into Mina’s car, I’d surprised her, and not just by showing up. She’d been floored when I apologized for hurting her family. It was written all over her face, just like every other emotion. She needed a game face because I could see right through her.
So, she might be curious enough now to accept an invitation on a second date, a real one. And if I could keep up the charm that I’d been accused of using with devious intent before, I could seduce her. If she was in my bed, it wouldn’t matter what she’d wanted to start with. Those plans would float away like fucking bubbles in the wind. And I’d probably hear them in a moment of weakness after she had a mind-blowing orgasm anyway.
And, if I was honest with myself, I would be able to scratch that itch that still hadn’t quite gone away. The one that demanded I find out just what kind of underwear she wore under all that black and whether or not she shaved. I hated to admit it, but I wasn’t going to get over that anytime soon, unless I did something about it.
Blowing out a long breath and weighing out the consequences of investing that much time and energy into a pseudo-relationship that was bound to end badly, I dressed for work. I preferred all black, too, and I looked like a badass with the motorcycle boots, the collared shirt, and my hair slicked back. I left the stubble – it gave me a rough, stern look that I thought might help intimidate the drunken men who couldn’t seem to control themselves. One thing I could say about working at the particular type of joint I did – it was never a slow or boring night for me.
I was early enough that I didn’t need to push the bike, so I cruised down the highway toward Brooklyn. Without a tail. Maybe I’d misjudged Mina. Or maybe she was just trying to throw me off the scent. She was smart enough to know I’d be looking for her, right? Then again, I might have her so confused she just needed time to think. I liked that idea. That’s the one I went with.