Chapter 21 Good for It
Good for It
After endless mission prep and with nearly nightly texts exchanged with Penelope, the day of “Skye, the delivery girl” had arrived.
They’d gone over the plan sometimes more intently than the actual heist, and yet, Lucia still had a small pit gnawing in her stomach, like they’d forgotten something. Paranoia, she told herself.
Jules honked. “Watch it, asshole!”
“Maybe don’t draw that much attention to us,” Skye snapped.
“Tense much?” Lucia asked. “She’s acting like a regular Atlanta driver.”
Skye glared at her before averting her gaze to look outside the window.
At least Lucia would get to stay in the van with Jules.
This time.
She preferred not to think about her role during the ball this coming weekend.
Francesca had texted her all morning, and Lucia had idly wondered if she was blowing up Skye’s phone as well.
Ten minutes later, they parked near the Meridian, close enough for Jules’s tech to provide a live feed from Skye’s glasses and microphone.
“You remember where you’re going? Don’t forget to—”
“I’m not brain-dead, Gracie.” Skye grabbed the soft-sided artwork carrier—flat, padded, discreet—and exited the van without another word, slamming the door shut.
“You don’t have to let her treat you like that,” Jules said a moment later.
“I know.” It wasn’t that Lucia enjoyed playing Skye’s verbal punching bag, but it wasn’t all that bad. It didn’t cut her or take up a ton of her mental space. It was mostly just tedious.
To be fair, not all their interactions were like that, and whenever things became strained again, they’d ignore each other. But recently, it had turned more volatile, and Lucia still hadn’t figured out why they were back to that.
A part of her almost feared something was wrong with Skye, and instead of talking about it or asking for help, she lashed out.
Recently, though, Lucia worried that she was enabling such behavior, given she never pushed back or confronted people in such situations. Maybe it would be kinder—to herself and others—to speak up.
“We’re up. Here you go.” Jules shifted so Lucia could watch along.
Skye made it through the front door and to the reception area. She signed in under the cover identity Jules had established, and after what seemed like forever, they pointed her toward the Conservation wing corridor.
“Thought you messed up there for a second, Jules,” Skye mumbled.
“Hush. Don’t talk,” Jules hissed.
“Ma’am. Wait, can you wait a second?” A voice called.
Skye halted and shifted. A young man was rushing toward her.
“Yes”—Skye’s gaze drifted to his name tag—“Larry? Can I help you?” she asked.
Larry chuckled. “I was going to ask you that. Do you need any help with this? Can I accompany you to the lab? I’m heading that way anyway.”
“Oh, that’s so sweet of you, Larry,” Skye said, her voice warm, almost charming. “But I got this, thank you.”
“We can still keep each other company, yes?”
“Uh, sure,” Skye said, though she seemed to slow down her steps.
Lucia leaned forward, her brows furrowed. “That’s bad,” she said, already dialing Skye’s number.
Skye’s phone rang. “Oh, Larry. Go ahead. I gotta take this.” She held up her arm with her watch. “Or I’m in the doghouse with my girlfriend.”
“Oh, your… Sure, all right. Nice to meet you.” He seemed to hurry off.
Commotion followed, static, before Skye answered the phone. “Hi, sweetheart. Took you a while.”
“Yes, yes,” Lucia said. “You’re welcome.”
“I love you, too! See you tonight.” Skye hung up.
“Let’s hope that was the crisis of the day.”
Jules groaned. “Why would you say that?”
“What?”
“You probably just jinxed us.”
“Don’t tell me you’re superstitious?” Lucia asked with a soft laugh.
“No, but I don’t tempt fate to fuck with me either.”
“Please. It’ll be fine.”
Jules glared at her. “You just didn’t, did you? What’s wrong with you? Maybe Skye was right, and you should stick to your forgeries.”
“Hey! There’s no need to be rude!”
Jules closed her eyes. “I’m sorry. I’ve been…stressed recently.” Her gaze drifted back to the screen. “But please don’t say that again until we’re all back home.”
“All right.”
“She’s at the closet.”
Skye swiped her badge. A red light.
“Shit,” Jules mumbled. “Do it again,” she told Skye, who did, and after a second that stretched like chewing gum, the light turned green. Skye snuck into the closet, flipping on the light and scanning her surroundings.
“I’m gonna hide it back there, leaning against the wall behind all these cleaning supplies. It’s a bunch of the same stuff, so even if they take some from the front, they likely won’t pay close attention to the back.”
“Tell her to put some stuff in front of it to hide it a bit more,” Lucia said, and Jules relayed the instructions.
“Duh,” Skye said, then stilled.
“What is it?”
“Voices,” Skye mumbled.
“Are they coming in?”
“How should I know?” Skye whisper-shouted.
“You did this, with your ‘It’ll be fine’ nonsense.” Jules pointed at Lucia.
Lucia didn’t dignify that with a response, but she glared at Jules. Why is everyone so high-strung? She was dealing with her own drama, yet she wasn’t acting like an ass.
“They left,” Skye finally said. “OK, let me finish this up.”
They watched her move items around and rearrange the contents on the bottom shelves. She stilled.
“Do you hear that?” Skye whispered.
“No. What?” Jules said.
“There’s a sound right outside. A metallic clang. Wheels.”
“Shit,” Lucia said. “No one’s supposed to be there.”
Skye backed away from the door.
“Do something. Call your girlfriend,” Skye whispered.
“What?” Jules and Lucia said at the same time.
“Blackwell. Get her here and get whoever this is gone.”
“She’s not my girlfriend!”
“Call. Her.”
“Damn it,” Lucia muttered and called Penelope.
“Yes?” She answered after a beat, and Lucia smiled despite herself.
“Hey, you. Uh, we need you to go to the area we discussed, quickly, and get rid of whoever’s there. Maybe knock on the door once you’re alone there?”
“Oh.”
A pause.
“Please. I owe you?”
“You do. I hope you’re good for it.”
Lucia ducked her head, warmth crawling up her neck.
“I am.” She hung up.
“Not your girlfriend, my ass,” Jules mumbled.
Two minutes ticked by with their breathing the only discernible sound, both in the van and coming through the speaker from Skye.
“Come on,” Jules whispered, her leg rocking up and down.
Strangely enough, Lucia’s nerves didn’t fire—well, not more than they had been. Maybe because, unlike Jules and Skye, she knew Penelope, and she knew she’d not let them down.
Sitting here was likely also easier than being stuck in the Meridian supply closet. She could only hope she’d not have to experience this firsthand at the ball.
A flicker of movement on the feed made her straighten.
“Finally,” Skye breathed.
Lucia watched the door crack widen, then a blur, and Skye was out.
She drew in a sharp breath when she realized her intent focus on the screen had the goal of spotting Penelope. She truly was hopeless.
“Get back to the car. Keep your head down. We don’t want another Larry situation,” Jules said, her voice terse.
“Hey, are you OK?” Lucia asked.
“What?”
“You’re just way more irritable than usual.”
Jules cocked an eyebrow. “You’re measuring the irritation levels in my words and demeanor now? Quantifying it?”
“Of course not. But I pay attention to details. Besides, you said earlier that you’re stressed. Anything I can help you with?”
Jules’s expression softened. “You’re sweet, sweeter than most people deserve. But Lucia, just because someone is struggling or carrying a weight doesn’t mean you have to haul it onto your back.”
“I don’t do that!”
“Uh-huh.”
“I really don’t. But how can I stay silent when someone I care about is struggling? How can I not offer help?”
“Simple.” Jules shrugged. “You mind your own business.”
“Is that what you want me to do?”
“Not necessarily, but—”
The door to the van opened and Skye scrambled inside. “Let’s get the fuck out of here. Next time, let’s not forget a plan B or something. This was close. That janitor wasn’t even supposed to be there.”
Her face was pale, tight.
Skye paused, her gaze wandering between Lucia and Jules. “What happened here?”
“Nothing.” Jules turned on the van and drove off.
Lucia shifted her gaze to the window. Since when was it wrong to be concerned for people? She wasn’t intrusive, and she knew when to back off. She’d never want to be where she wasn’t wanted.
She sighed.
After a moment, her phone buzzed in her pocket.
You good?
Lucia smiled.
Yes.
I’m heading home in an hour. An unexpected early day. Any ideas on how to repay me?
Ice cream? A movie? I could deliver pizza.
So can the delivery person.
Yes, but they’re not me, nor do they have my charming personality.
You’re so modest.
So? Can I entice you?
The answer to that is likely always going to be yes.
Lucia swallowed hard. She’d just invited herself over, hadn’t she? What about keeping things digital? But Penelope had said yes. So what did that mean?