The Sapphire Heist (A Jewel Novel Book 2)

by Lauren Blakely

  “Oh thank God,” Isla said, breathing out in relief. “I hate spider season.”

  Steph couldn’t care less about spiders, so she returned to the matter at hand. “So who stole my diamond?”

  Eli cocked his head to the side. “Your diamond was taken?”

  “Yes. No faking there. It was taken from my hotel room,” she said, and explained how they’d pulled it off.

  Eli banged a fist against his counter. “Bastard! Tristan must have seen me give it to you at the restaurant that day. That’s how he knew you had one. Dammit. I wish that hadn’t happened to you.”

  “Yeah, me, too.”

  “And all because of a sour business deal. And for Clarissa, she wanted the money to pay off college debt. If she’d have just asked me, I’d have given her the money.”

  A sense of déjà vu washed over Steph. While she had no affection for Clarissa, the statement felt oddly familiar. He’d said something similar to her at their first lunch—if she’d only told him about her business trouble, he’d have helped her out. But it was easy to make that sort of offer after the fact.

  “Would you have, though?”

  “Given it to her? Of course.”

  “Just like you’re going to start paying Shelly the alimony?”

  “Um,” he said, gazing at the ceiling and scratching his head. “Did I say I was going to give her alimony?”

  “Yes,” Steph said emphatically, waving her arms. “Yes. You said you weren’t fair to her. You said you wanted to be more equitable. You told me that,” she said, her voice rising as she sensed him erecting his Teflon wall once more.

  “Eli,” Isla said softly, wrapping a hand around his arm. “Remember what we talked about?”

  “Yeah. About being more generous,” Steph said, chiming in.

  “That wasn’t exactly it.”

  “What was it, then?”

  “We just don’t think it’s wise to discuss money matters. My family never did, and it’s best if we just keep some matters private,” she said.

  Steph studied Isla’s face. Her pretty eyes. Her gorgeous cheeks. In some weird way, she’d liked the woman. Isla had been sweet and kind. But today, the whole it’s-private act bugged her.

  “Private? Like the money you took from your company is private?” she said, directing it to both of them.

  Isla’s eyes widened, and she cast her gaze downward instantly. “Eli,” she whispered, then dropped her voice even more and mouthed silently to her fiancé, You told her?

  Steph’s world stopped spinning. Her features froze. There it was. The admission. The confession. The very possibility she’d fought like hell to deny and protested kicking and screaming. Hunting, sneaking around, leaving no stone unturned, she’d hoped against hope that the father she knew was the real Eli, and that it had all been a mistake. She’d devoted a whole goddamn week of her time, and countless pieces of her heart, to searching for a truth that was a lie.

  He wasn’t innocent after all.

  He’d fucking done it, and he’d gotten away with it. Her insides felt hollow, carved out by the blade of his lies.

  He squeezed Isla’s fingers. “Shush, it’s OK.” Then to Steph, “We need to move on from these money matters.”

  “How c-could—?” she began, sputtering. She wanted to dig into it with him. To ask him how the hell he could take money from innocent people. How he could steal the retirement funds he was entrusted with. But she knew if she uttered those words, he’d shut her down even further. She sucked them inside, swallowed them, and asked another question.

  “Where are the diamonds? Did you get them back from your car?”

  Eli laughed and waved a hand dismissively. “No need to worry about those. The real ones are safe and sound and so well hidden that no one will figure it out. Didn’t even need to put them in a bank.”

  Her head clanged. She grabbed the counter to hold on. “Wait. So those diamonds in your trunk were fake?”

  He nodded.

  Steph’s mind rewound to an hour before. To the gorgeous gleam of the jewels in a safe in the car. They had looked as real as anything. But then again, a car was an odd place to store diamonds. “If the diamonds in the back of your car were fake, where are the real ones?”

  He nodded proudly. “Real ones are still safe and sound. I put the fakes ones there in the hopes that Clarissa would go after the car. I would never put real ones in my car. That’s why I gave it to you.”

  She gripped the counter harder. “Not because it was hot? Not because of the air-conditioning?”

  “Well, that did play a role, too. Did you enjoy the air-conditioning?”

  She parted her lips to speak, but she was a fish, sucking air. She wasn’t sure how to even respond to such an incredulous question. She went with a simple truth. “Yes. It was nice and cool. But I think it’s kind of crummy that you used me as bait.”

  “Now, dear, I had a feeling she was following you, and I wanted to catch her quickly and we did. I’ve been dropping hints that the diamonds were in the car. This was the fastest way to solve the crime. You’re my little crime fighter.”

  She blinked as she tried to wrap her head around this latest piece of information. “You thought she’d go after them so you gave me your car?” She stabbed a finger against her chest for emphasis. “You didn’t care about my safety?”

  Isla cut in, trying to reassure. “Darling, we knew Clarissa wouldn’t hurt you. She’s a nice girl who just needed money for bills.”

  “That’s beside the point. You had no idea what she would do. Or Tristan for that matter.”

  “But you’re here; you’re just fine. And I would never do anything to harm you,” Eli said as he raised his champagne flute in a toast. “Let’s celebrate. The diamonds are safe, the thieves have been caught, and you helped us. What more could we possibly want? The one nagging little issue is that she stole your diamond. But I can give you another one.”

  “I don’t want another diamond. I don’t want a diamond at all. That’s the last thing I want.”

  “Then take my watch,” he said, holding out his wrist and offering his Rolex.

  “I don’t want a watch, either.”

  Steph’s head felt like it was made of cotton. Her legs were jelly. She needed to get out of here, far away from him.

  She stumbled out the door, shocked that she’d been so wrong about him. She’d believed desperately in a second chance, and that completely misplaced faith in her stepfather had driven a pickax between her and the man she’d fallen for.

  But Jake had delivered the punishing blow with his utter lack of faith in her.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  He walked.

  He walked the entire length of Seven Mile Beach. Fine, that wasn’t some huge feat of physical fitness, but he needed to burn off his frustration. He was mad about the case. Mad about the way everything had come up empty.

  Most of all, he was angry with himself.

  As he neared the end of the beach, he grabbed his phone from his pocket and called Kylie. That was the one relationship he couldn’t fuck up. She’d texted him earlier that she had good news.

  “Hey, how was the test? How’s the tutor?”

  “It’s all going well. I got an A on my test. Can you believe it?”

  He beamed. “Yes, I can believe it, and that’s awesome. I’m so proud of you. I knew you could do it.”

  “It was all thanks to your friend. That woman who helped me the other night.”

  He stopped in his tracks, the ocean crashing against the shore. “It was?”

  Kylie’s enthusiasm could be felt through the phone line. “Yes, half the test wound up being on the topic she helped me with. I wouldn’t have been able to figure it out without her help.”

  “Wow,” he said, and resumed his pace. The reminder of Steph gnawed at him. She’d tricked him. She’d set him up. How could she be so damn sweet to his sister and still stab him in the back?

  “I’m glad you did well, Kylie.�
��

  “Is she your girlfriend? I like her.”

  “No. She’s not,” he said through gritted teeth. “Well, she was for about an hour.”

  “Oh no. What did you do to mess it up?”

  “Hey now. Why would you assume I messed it up?” he said as he ducked down a side street that looked familiar.

  “Because you’re you. Because you’re a man. And because you don’t always trust people, so sometimes you assume the worst about them.”

  “Ha. Thanks for pigeonholing me due to my gender,” he said as he passed a café and an ice-cream shop.

  “You didn’t answer the question. What did you do to mess it up?”

  “Nothing. We had a misunderstanding.”

  “Well, do you like her?”

  He heaved a sigh. “I did. A lot. But then something happened.”

  “Did she cheat on you?”

  “No,” he said quickly.

  “Then I’m guessing it can be fixed. And she’s really awesome, and if she’s the first woman in years you’re calling a girlfriend, I think you need to try to fix things.”

  “I’ll take it under advisement,” he said, then stopped walking when he realized where his feet had taken him. The Pink Pelican. “Hey, congrats on the A. I’ll talk to you soon.”

  “Love you, Jake.”

  “Love you, too.”

  It was only four in the afternoon, so the joint was quiet. A few customers sipped afternoon cocktails at tables, but he had the bar to himself.

  Marie slapped down a napkin and said, “What’ll it be?” When she raised her face, she grinned. “Jake the fisherman! How are you?”

  “I’ve had better days.”

  “Pale ale, then?”

  “That’ll help,” he said.

  She poured a beer from the tap, then set it down and parked her hands on the counter. “Fish not biting today?”

  He shook his head. “Nope. Not a one.”

  “Bummer. Such a shame. Because it’s a lovely day from where I sit.”

  “Yeah? Why’s that?” he asked, bringing the glass to his lips. Ah, this cool beer was the one bright spot in his shitty afternoon.

  “My boyfriend got a promotion and a raise.”

  Jake lifted his glass in a toast to Marie’s man. “Congrats. That’s always nice to hear.”

  “I’m so proud of him. He helped to catch a thief.”

  The glass nearly slipped from his hands. “Sorry. What did you say?”

  “Remember that robbery I told you about the other night?”

  “Of course,” he said quickly, eager to get to the news.

  “It was all a setup to catch the real thief. Turns out that the assistant manager at Sapphire tried to steal some diamonds today from Mr. Thompson. But they were fake. Too bad for her. And she’s in jail, so it really is too bad for her.”

  He gripped the edge of the bar, shock radiating through him. “Who’s your boyfriend?”

  “Ferdinand Costello,” she said, and cartoon birds seemed to chirp in happiness as she said his name. “He did everything he could to help catch Clarissa and Tristan. They’re both behind bars now. The police move fast in this town when it comes to helping Eli Thompson.”

  “I’ll say,” he said, then he picked up his phone. He had no clue what to say to Steph, but he needed to find a way to apologize.

  Wait. That was wrong. He had to do way more than say he was sorry.

  He had to get down on his knees and grovel. He’d been dead wrong at the car wash. He’d flown off the handle and accused her wildly of something she hadn’t done. All because of his past, his wounds, his own prideful emotional scars. That was no way to start a new relationship.

  He started to dial her when his phone rang. She was calling him. Hope dared to surface inside him. Maybe the two of them were fixable. Maybe they’d move past this misunderstanding in a jiffy.

  “Hey there,” he said.

  “I don’t have a key to your room. All my things are there, and I need them for my trip,” Steph said in a crisp, businesslike tone.

  “I’ll meet you at the room in thirty minutes.”

  He didn’t have the chance to grab a bouquet of flowers to say he was sorry, but words would have to do. He paid the bar tab and hoofed it to the hotel, where he found her waiting outside room 412. Looking like the woman he was crazy about, the woman who’d helped his little sister, and the woman he’d wronged.

  “Hi,” he said softly.

  Her arms were crossed. Her eyes were hard. Oh, she was not going to go easy on him. “Hello.”

  Her voice was devoid of emotion.

  Sliding his key through the slot, he opened the door for her. As soon as they were inside, memories flashed before his eyes, like a reel in fast-forward, of all the other times they’d entered a hotel room. Usually, within seconds, she was up against the wall, in his arms. But this time? She turned in to the restroom, wrapped one arm around all her toiletries, and shoved them into the little bag she kept them in. With alarming speed.

  He needed to move quickly.

  “Steph,” he said, his voice as dry as tinder. He tried again, clearing his throat. “Steph.”

  She marched out of the bathroom and headed straight for her suitcase. Jamming the makeup kit into the bag, she didn’t even glance over her shoulder as she said, “Yes?”

  “I’m sorry.”

  She shook her head. “No need to apologize.”

  Within seconds, she’d grabbed the few sundresses and tank tops that weren’t already in her suitcase and stuffed them inside. She zipped it up.

  “I’m really sorry,” he continued. “I overreacted, and I shouldn’t have said those things. I know you didn’t set me up.”

  She rose and arched an eyebrow. “Yeah, how do you know that?”

  “I heard what happened. I heard it from Marie. I mean, just a few details. But she told me that Clarissa was arrested.”

  The corners of her lips curved into a grin, but the smile didn’t reach her eyes. “Aww, that’s nice that you changed your mind. I’m so glad to hear that.”

  “You are?” he asked, because it sure didn’t sound like it.

  She slung her bag on her shoulder. “Absolutely. I think it’s fantastic that you only believed me after you heard a police report. I love that it had nothing to do with trusting in me. And that you only came around when you had cold, hard evidence.”

  He nodded once, taking his lumps like a big boy. “Fine. I get it. I’m sorry. But how is that any different than when you thought I took your diamond?” he asked, tilting his head to the side.

  “You want to go there? You want to revisit that?” she asked, anger radiating off her in waves.

  “Just feels like we’re even and we could move on. You thought I took your diamond, and you tried to figure out if I did. I thought maybe you were trying to pull a fast one on me. Two wrongs, and all? Can we call it a truce and start over?”

  She stared at him, studying his eyes. Maybe considering his offer? He crossed his fingers in hope that she’d give him another chance. That she’d see how good they could be together.

  She stepped closer, raised a hand. His heart beat harder. She was going to kiss him. She cupped his cheek, ran her thumb over his jawline. Damn, he loved her touch. Just loved it. He loved so many things about her.

  “I’m sorry I doubted you then. I’m truly sorry. I felt terrible for thinking that,” she said softly, the anger stripped from her voice now. In its place, he heard only hope, only potential. He swore their second chance was unfurling before him. As she stroked his cheek and touched him, he was certain. “And you’re right. Maybe this isn’t that different. Maybe I should just let it slide and move on.”

  “Can we? Please?” he asked softly. Everything else on this trip was such a bust. “I just want one thing to go right here, and that one thing is you.”

  “And I would love to say yes to you. But there’s a difference between then and now.”

  His heart began to sin
k. He swallowed, waiting for the guillotine to fall. “What is it?”

  “A few nights ago, I didn’t feel this way for you. But everything has changed for me, and then you questioned whether I felt anything for you. When we already told each other on the beach how we felt. That’s why I just needed some time to focus on work and do what I came here to do.”

  He furrowed his brow. “But what changed? What’s different from the time you thought I stole from you and the time I thought you were setting me up? It’s all about whether we trust each other, and I’m saying let’s give each other another chance.”

  “The difference is simple,” she said softly, then she inched closer and brushed her lips to his. A soft, barely there kiss that stole the breath from his lungs. That knocked his emotions into orbit. That turned everything upside down. She let go and looked him in the eyes. “I hadn’t fallen in love with you then. But now I have. That’s why it hurts so much more that you thought that about me.” Her voice broke as her words latched onto his heart. The wheels in his brain began to turn, to pick up speed, as he tried to figure out how to give voice to this tornado of emotions touching down in his own heart.

  “And that’s also why I need to go.”

  Before he could say a word, she left.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  She spent the night at Devon’s. He ordered a pizza, and they watched the first thirty minutes of Talladega Nights before she fell asleep on his couch, curled up under a blanket. Sometime in the middle of the night, she kicked it off. The sliding glass door to his deck had been left open, and a breeze drifted in. Warm and tropical. A kiss from the Caymans. She stirred and sat up on the couch, hooking her arm over the side and staring out the open doors into the night.

  Like this, when the beaches were quiet and the sounds of the day were folded up into sleep, the ocean was at its most constant state. A steady drumbeat against the shore. The ceaseless whoosh of midnight waves crashing into the sand. The pull of the tides.

  High above, the moon shone, casting spotlights over the black licorice soup of the sea.

  She breathed in deeply, inhaling the salty air, letting it soothe her. She imagined tossing her sadness about Eli out in the ocean, allowing the endless waters to carry it away, like a message in a bottle that would someday wash up on a distant shore. She’d harbored a false hope for so long, but yet, she didn’t regret having tried to preserve at least one good memory of him. She would, however, have regretted it more if she hadn’t tried. A calmness settled into her bones, knowing she’d done all she could for the man who’d raised her. She had to be at peace with his choices and with her own.