On top of all that, Davidson was acting beyond strange. He’d always been controlling and manipulative, but he’d never gotten violent with Ari before. The look in his eyes that day had been so unsettling. He’d seemed panicky. Paranoid.
Even after she’d told him that Jared would be meeting with Evan this weekend—and Davidson’s surveillance guys had confirmed Jared’s arrival at the Annandale estate—Davidson had still been texting her all weekend, reminding her again and again about her two-week deadline.
Ari wanted to scream. Without hard evidence, every road, every dark corner, every possible lead dead-ended in one of two places: Ari’s word against Davidson’s, or Ari incriminating herself, guaranteeing her a life behind bars and a sister left to the sharks on the outside. Sharks that—once news of Ari’s betrayal had gotten around—would be more than ready to feed.
She was imagining these very sharks, circling and sniffing for blood, when her phone buzzed with a text, startling her.
Hoping it was Jared, she leapt for the phone.
Off in 5 minutes. Meet me outside in 30 for some hot romance action, or you’ll never see me again—ha! :-)
Ari cursed. She’d totally forgotten that she’d promised to accompany Tasha to Bryant Park. She didn’t want to see Romancing the Stone right now. She wanted to stay home and spend some more time on the One Night Stand theory. There had to be a crack in the facade, something she could break open…
Another text from Tasha rattled her.
And don’t you dare stand me up for work stuff! We’ve got a date, girly. Chop chop.
Resigned, Ari showered in record time, twisting her wet hair into a sloppy bun and throwing on some faded jeans and an old Aerosmith tee she wasn’t even sure was hers.
Just outside the building, Ari spotted Keens, leaning against the wall and smoking a cigarette as if it was his regular hangout. He wasn’t even trying to hide the fact that he’d been sent to keep an eye on her.
“If you don’t mind,” she said, “I’m going out with my sister. So kindly fuck off for the night.”
Keens shrugged. “No boyfriend tonight?”
Ari rolled her eyes. “What part of ‘fuck off’ was unclear?”
He didn’t say anything, just stood there scratching his stubbled jaw, the cigarette burning to a nub between his fingers.
“I liked you better when you worked for my father,” Ari said.
“Yeah. Catch you later.” He exhaled a cloud of blue smoke in her face, then flicked away the cigarette butt and left, heading uptown.
Ari wasn’t afraid of Keens, but she hated being spied on. Hated what Davidson was doing to her. She was steaming, but before she could work herself into a full rage, she spotted Tasha, smiling and fresh-faced. Ari relaxed.
“Who’s the creep?” Tasha asked, nodding toward the spot where Keens had been.
“Just some guy looking for beer money,” Ari said. “Let’s go.”
Arm in arm, they crossed Park and Madison and headed over to Fifth Avenue, and then turned south to walk the forty or so blocks to Bryant Park. The early evening air was heavy and warm, and all around them Ari took in the sounds of the city—the constant hum of traffic, the apocalyptic warnings of the street preachers, snippets of conversations in a dozen different languages, all of it blending into the unique New York heartbeat that didn’t exist anywhere else in the world.
Weaving effortlessly through knots of tourists, the girls made their way down to midtown, Ari putting on a brave face, Tasha chattering about the weekend she’d spent with her friend, a girl she’d met in one of her sociology summer classes that she’d been getting to know.
Tasha’s exuberance, her youth, her genuine joy at being able to stay up all night with a new friend talking about their crushes and classes and big bright futures… it was a firm reminder that Ari had done the right thing, going to Jared for help last week. Ari’s own future didn’t hold many bright spots, but Tasha’s certainly did. Ari would see to that at all costs.
I need more time…
“Moment of truth: Pizza or Chipotle?” Tasha asked. They’d reached 42nd Street, and needed to pick up their picnic dinner before heading into the park.
“Let’s do Chipotle.” Ari pulled out her wallet. “My turn to get it.”
Tasha waited outside while Ari plodded through the seemingly endless line, watching with growing irritation as the girl behind the counter took her sweet time with the guacamole; Romancing the Stone was one of Tasha’s favorite movies, and they needed to hurry if they wanted to find decent lawn space.
She was about to bail on the burritos altogether when the girl finally handed over the bag. “Twenty-two fifteen.”
Ari quickly swiped her American Express card, but the machine wouldn’t read it. She tried again, no luck.
“Sorry,” the girl said. “That thing’s been wonky all day. I’ll have to manually enter it.”
Ari handed over the card, her stomach twisting as the girl punched in the numbers.
Come on, come on!
The machine beeped again.
“Oh, sorry,” the girl said, lowering her voice to spare Ari some embarrassment. “It says the card’s declined.”
“What? That’s—forget it. I have another one.” Ari fished out another card, ignoring the attitude from the people behind her in line. This time she handed it straight to the girl to enter manually, but as the girl tried again and again, the machine obnoxiously refusing it, fear sank like a cold stone in Ari’s stomach.
There was only one reason her cards would be declined.
“Did you put a fraud alert on this?” the girl asked.
“Are you kidding me right now?” a guy behind Ari said. “You’re holding up the whole line.”
“So go to McDonald’s.” Ari shot him a nasty glare, then turned back to the girl. “No. I have no idea what’s going on. I’ll have to call the company.” She held out her hand for the card, but the girl shook her heard.
“I have to keep it,” she said. “Do you have a different card? Cash?”
The guy behind her went off on another rant, but Ari couldn’t even hear the words. She was already pushing through the crowded restaurant, her face hot with embarrassment.
She edged her way out into the street, gasping for air as reality hit.
Holy fuck.
Without warning, Davidson had cut her off. She had no recourse, nowhere to turn. He knew it, too.
He was fucking enjoying it.
“Ari?” Tasha was at her elbow, tugging her arm. “What’s wrong?”
She met her sister’s eyes, shame slithering down her spine.
I can’t even buy my sister a burrito.
“Ari?”
“I just… something’s wrong with my cards. I couldn’t get dinner.”
“That’s it?” Tasha sighed. “Why didn’t you text me? I’ll get it.”
Ari tried to refuse, but Tasha was already heading for the door.
As the hurried crowds of 42nd Street parted and flowed around her, Ari took stock of her assets, wondering how long she could make them stretch: the few hundred in cookie jar cash, a monthly MetroCard that was good for another two weeks on the subway, a coupon for a free latte at the coffee shop where Tasha worked… that was about it.
Even if she were to list the penthouse, selling it could take months—years in this market. And if Davidson learned that she’d put it up for sale, he’d stop paying the maintenance fees—thousands of dollars a month Ari had no way of covering.
He still might stop payment, even if she stayed put. And what could she do about it? Report him to the labor board for unfair practices? Ari shook her head, cursing herself for being so stupid. She should’ve been taking cash advances out from her credit cards, a little at a time, squirreling it away for a rainy day.
Now, she was about to walk straight into a hurricane, and she didn’t even have an umbrella.
Stupid, stupid girl.
Her whole life she’d been shuffled from o
ne man to the next, never given the opportunity to grow, to change, to be anything other than Arianne, the phantom art thief. She was her father’s, and then she became Davidson’s, and in some ways, even Jared’s. He’d offered without hesitation to buy her out from Davidson’s clutches, a deal Ari knew her boss would never take. But even if that wasn’t an issue, how could Ari accept those terms? Well-meaning or not, how could she allow herself to become indebted to another man?
She was totally dependent.
She’d lived for decades in a shadow of fear, always afraid to speak up, afraid to defy, afraid to truly live. But she wanted to. God, how she wanted to. It was more than just keeping her sister safe, dodging Davidson’s threats, eking out some kind of living that didn’t involve stealing. She wanted to give her sister a life, to build one for herself. She wanted to go to school, to study, to learn something, to be something, to find and follow her passions. She wanted to work hard. She wanted to be free to fall in love.
Love.
The last word stuck, echoing through the endless canyons of her heart. She missed Jared. In all of her years of loneliness and fear, she’d never once felt as scared and empty as she had the moment she’d discovered Jared had seen the robbery plans—that he’d left the penthouse without speaking to her. She knew she’d lost him forever, and that no matter what her future held, that moment would become the single biggest regret of her life, just like she’d told him.
It already had.
I have to figure this thing out. No matter what.
Tasha returned with the burritos and two bottles of iced tea, smiling at Ari like it was no big deal, like this sort of thing happened all the time. When they reached Bryant Park, there was only enough space in the back, but Tasha didn’t mind. She was just happy to be with Ari, to be hanging out in the city on another gorgeous summer night, the lights glittering around them as the sun slipped into slumber.
Ari could barely pay attention to the movie, her mind racing with jagged thoughts and memories, desperate to work out this puzzle. By the time she and Tasha returned to their building a few hours later, Ari felt like a wrung-out rag, limp and soggy and all used up.
She’d been looking forward to a date with her pillow, but an urgent message from Alan hijacked her plans.
“A gentlemen left it for you an hour ago, Miss Holbrook,” he said, handing her a folded note on cream-colored paper.
Her hand shook as she took it from him.
“Must be important,” Alan said. “The man insisted I give it to you the moment you returned.”
Her eyes widened, but she forced a smile, thanking Alan and then rushing back to her sister, who’d been holding the elevator.
“What was that about?” Tasha asked.
Ari didn’t know. She didn’t dare open the note in front of anyone, deathly afraid of what may be inside. She needed to wait until she was alone in her room, no one to face but her own reflection. “Just… probably just a work thing.”
Tasha fumed. Ari braced for another scathing lecture, but Tasha surprised her, snatching the note right out of her hands.
Before Ari could react, Tasha opened it.
A smile crept across her face.
Ari yanked the paper out of her sister’s hands and glanced down at the message, a spark of hope alighting in her belly. It wasn’t Davidson’s handwriting at all. It was Jared’s.
Arianne,
I need to see you tonight.
I’ll be waiting for you at the penthouse—come when you can.
—J
“He needs you.” Tasha teased, wriggling her eyebrows. “He’ll be waiting for you.”
Ari took a deep breath, willing it to smother the flames licking her insides. She didn’t need that kind of hopeful encouragement. She hadn’t spoken with Jared in days; he simply needed a status report on what she’d come up with on Davidson this weekend.
Unfortunately, he was in for another disappointment.
As far as Jared was concerned, the sooner Ari could get the evidence together, the sooner he could be rid of her and the whole tangled mess. It was his ticket to freedom. Her ticket to loss.
Ari sighed. No matter how hard she tried to convince herself otherwise, she had to come clean about her connection to the artwork from the One Night Stand. About her father’s murder. If there was anything she could find against Davidson, it was there—her gut was practically screaming it. Maybe if she talked it through, if Jared asked the right questions, if he shined a light in the places where she hadn’t thought to look, they could figure it out together.
Like a team.
Ari didn’t know how long she’d be there tonight, so she packed an overnight bag just in case, arguing with herself for a full twenty minutes about whether to bring her sexiest black panties. But in the end, she shoved them back into her drawer and opted for the uninspiring blue cotton ones. She’d betrayed Jared enough; the least she could do was honor his wishes about not sleeping together.
Ari kissed Tasha goodnight, took the elevator back downstairs, and stepped out into the Manhattan night, relieved to not see any of Davidson’s men. It was still warm, but a gentle breeze kept the humidity at bay, and Ari passed up a waiting taxi, hoping a walk in the fresh air would settle her nerves.
With a sharp sting, she realized she had no choice, anyway.
A taxi was a luxury she could no longer afford.
Chapter Fourteen
“There’s something you need to know about the Hermes and LaPorte pieces,” Ari said, stepping out of Jared’s elevator and into the penthouse.
He’d been waiting to greet her in the entryway, and now he just stood there, arms across his chest, mouth set in a grim line. It had only been two days since they’d last seen each other, but to Ari he’d aged a decade, the lines around his eyes deep and drawn, his shoulders heavy with the burden she’d placed on them.
Wordlessly, she set her bag on the floor, then unzipped the thin jacket she’d put on over her concert tee, stretching up on her toes to hang it on the coat tree. Even without looking at him, she could feel Jared’s intense gaze as his eyes roamed her body, the chemistry between them still scorching hot.
Ari tugged at her shirt, keeping her eyes on the floor.
“Would you like a drink, then?” Jared asked.
“Better put on the coffee instead.” Ari’s throat tightened, a knot of grief lodging itself in place. “It’s kind of a long story.”
Jared sighed, shaking his head as if he just didn’t know what to do with her. “Arianne, I want to help you. I will help you. But I can’t take any more game-playing. Please, just come out with it.”
She wanted to, but the words kept getting stuck, caught up in that tight ball at the back of her throat. She realized, standing in Jared’s entryway in her faded jeans and Aerosmith tee, hair a frizzy halo around her head, skin clammy from the air conditioning, that she’d never once spoken them out loud.
“Whatever it is,” Jared said, gently squeezing her shoulders, “we’ll deal with it. I’m not going anywhere. But I need you to be honest with me. No more half-truths and cover-ups, no more sneaking around.”
Ari nodded, her eyes filling with tears at the compassion in his voice, in his touch. She didn’t deserve to take comfort in it, but she couldn’t help it. She felt so safe with Jared, so protected. No matter how badly she’d fucked things up, no matter how much trouble she’d caused him, he was a man of his word, and he was going to help her.
“I’m out,” she said. “Davidson’s jobs, the intel, the whole heist game. No matter what happens, I’m never going back to that. I swear it, Jared. I’m done. I just… I want you to know that.”
He slipped a finger beneath her chin, gently tilting her face toward his. In his eyes was a ferocity she’d never seen, a kind of unbending determination that simultaneously filled her with fear and exhilaration.
“Tell me what’s going on,” he demanded.
“My father was murdered,” she whispered, so softly that she w
asn’t even sure he’d heard. But his eyes changed, the fierce determination replaced with a deep, dark sadness. It was as though he could feel her pain, like she’d transferred it through her skin and into his hands, into his heart.
She shivered at his touch, at the way he looked at her. At the power of her desire for him, still so raw and intense.
Jared offered no words, just a silence for which Ari was grateful. She didn’t need apologies or sympathy, and Jared seemed to sense as much. Instead, he took her hand and gently led her to the couch.
When she took a seat, Jared ran his hand gently over her head. “Coffee it is. I’ll be right back.”
While Jared prepared the coffee, Ari took a few moments to gather her thoughts. She hadn’t really planned out what to say, or even where to start, and every time she decided on the right place, her thoughts got tangled up again. So when Jared finally returned with a silver carafe and two mugs, she poured herself a full cup, took a healthy gulp, and started at the beginning.
“It was supposed to be the perfect heist.”
Chapter Fifteen
The war had started up inside Jared’s chest again, one side of his heart pounding furiously at how easily Arianne continued to keep things from him, the other side damn near shattering for the girl.
In the hour since her arrival, Arianne had talked nonstop, telling him about every detail of the celebrity heist that had netted the two pieces in his collection—the plans, the players, the extensive list of artwork they’d stolen. Jared was rapt, listening without interruption as her words painted a chilling picture of her life as an art thief, the family business that had ultimately orphaned her.
They’d gone through the entire pot of coffee, and now that the words were out, Jared felt simultaneously exhausted and wired, the collision of caffeine and information and anger threatening to short-circuit his brain.
Bared to the Billionaire: The Complete Series Page 32