Chapter Five
Kingston
S he’s even more beautiful than last time. That hardcore pixie cut is smooth and sleek and sophisticated. Her mouth a muter red. Eyes softer with the make-up and the dress fits her slender and sleek curves with a black shimmer.
The heels and black stockings with the seams finish the look.
She’s a million miles away from the woman I met three nights ago.
I prefer the other one.
Sadie’s a woman who should command attention, but she’s very good at slipping it when she wants, like now.
Her eyes narrow. “Following me?”
“My watch.”
“Maybe you misplaced it,” she says, looking at me from lowered lids, the sweep of long, curved lashes unexpectedly sexy as she does so.
I take a glass of champagne from a passing waiter and wish to heaven it was something stronger, something less bubbly and frou-frou. It’s not my drink, but the upside is it’s easy to nurse. “Do I look like that sort of man?”
“I don’t know.”
“Or just a man you try and jump?”
“That was nothing more than an experiment, one I’m not about to repeat.”
“Good. When you kiss me, you need to mean it, not be playing games.”
Her mouth curves. “That kind of thing is nothing but games.”
“Sex?”
“And all it comes with. All the things people attach to it.”
Those words slide about me and it’s like she’s a unicorn, a mythical woman after my own lust-driven heart. Most women will say they don’t want more than sex or the right kind of relationship where things are on the table and in the open, along with the exit point. But then something happens. Either they’re lying or they develop feelings.
I get out before that shit ever happens to me. Once was more than enough.
But Sadie, she isn’t looking for anything either. She doesn’t like me. I’m not sure why, apart from I’m loaded. I don’t like her kind, but her…she’s hot and soft and she can kiss and the fire that burns hot between us is there whether we want it or not.
A fire I’ve no intentions of dabbling with again.
I won’t lie that it’s fun pushing her, watching for cracks. Like when she first saw me, the leap of light and smolder in her eyes before she dragged it back in.
“Interesting theory,” I say, circling close to her, breathing her smoke and jasmine scent in, just as my gaze drops to linger on her exposed clavicle. The line and shadow of the delicate bone beneath her skin is accentuated by two small freckles.
She takes a breath, drawing my gaze to her breasts that are draped in the delicate material that shimmers darkly. It shows her curves, but there’s a demureness about the cut, the neckline that dips to hint at what lies beneath—not put it out on show. It’s hotter than it had any right to be. Just like her.
“Yes,” she says, the dryness like centuries old dust, “because you’re waiting for true love to drop in on you.”
“I don’t believe in love.”
“Neither do I. It’s a construct developed by the patriarchy to keep women in check.”
I smile, and close the gap between us, letting my fingers trail against the soft smoothness of her shining hair. “I think we know it’s the other way around.”
“Only because women have been taught their shelf life is short.”
“So, a true romantic, then?”
Her smile flashes like a knife. “Just like you.”
“We should run away.”
“Misery does love company.”
I laugh. “You keep that up, Sadie, and I’ll start liking you.”
“Call me Sally in here.” Her voice is barely audible, yet it shimmies through me. “And we can’t have that happening.”
“Give me my watch and when are you starting work for me?”
Her hand slips along the side of my suit and I’m overcome by the urge to check to see if she stole anything. Except I don’t have anything in that pocket. Sadie’s expression says she knows exactly what I wanted to do.
So I don’t.
The music in this hellhole is terrible. The place filled with the kind of interior decorating that’s insanely expensive, generic, and lacking in individual taste. Like a show apartment. And I’m betting someone like Sadie Hess hates it as much as me.
“I never said I would work for you.”
“You will,” I say. “You can’t resist the challenge or the money.” I look her over. “I’m betting it’s the thrill of the challenge over the money that will hook you.”
“It’ll be the money, too. So, are you stalking me?”
“What would you do if I said yes?” I’m genuinely curious. We both know it’s not stalking, but I did make it my business to find out where she’d be.
“I’d say I’m not interested in you.”
“We know that’s a lie.”
“I don’t like you, Mr. Sinclair.”
I smile. “And I don’t like you. Like has nothing to do with interest.”
“Anything we do will be strictly business.”
I take a sip of the warming champagne. “Like stealing my watch was business?”
“Maybe you lost it.”
“No. I didn’t lose it or misplace it. You took it.”
Sadie smiles.
“You’re also working for me.”
“And,” she says, “like I keep saying, I’ll let you know.”
“And when will that be?” I don’t bother keeping the hard edge from my voice. All that gets is the merest flicker of a gaze from her.
“I’ll let you know when I know.”
“You have two hours. Then I’ll go with someone else.”
There are others. They just don’t happen to be as good as she’s meant to be. As Black Raven or Midnight Raven or whatever she wishes to call herself.
I can make do. Top notch jewelers and PIs exist. People with niche skills that I can use. They all exist. I have a list. And not one will cost what she does. Not one will give me the headache she will and yet…
I want her.
Maybe I’m no different to the rest of the society. Maybe it’s the thrill of using the services of someone who used to steal from the rich. Maybe it’s the fact she’s no Robin Hood and she harbors a hard-edged dislike of my kind.
Or maybe it’s her.
She mutters something under her breath, creatively crude. And I glance over to see Jemima Mao making her way to us. My gaze meets Sadie’s and her mask slips, the dislike is palpable, and I can taste it, but then she’s cool and accommodating and smiles.
I almost point out Jemima married up, monetarily. Her husband’s the one born into wealth and power and is figurehead of the tech company his father created. I use the term tech company loosely. His father created a new computer chip back in the day and that’s what they do. Create and make hardware and Mao himself sits as CEO and lets others do the work.
Jemima, on the other hand, is a lawyer. One who came up from nothing and carefully created her own image while riding the Harvard HLS Grant program. She graduated top of her class and is the kind of lawyer anyone smart wants to handle suits that come their way.
I know, because I’ve hired her.
She doesn’t have a practice anymore, per se. Just does jobs she wants. So, she hides the shark beneath the layers of bubbles her husband likes, and, I suspect, she enjoys. The idle rich woman she is here is worlds from what she is when she dons her law persona.
Thinking about it, maybe Sadie has a point about what women do for love. This is what her billionaire husband wants and this is what he gets. And she gets…all this…
“Kingston,” she says as she comes to a stop. “I see you’ve met my guest of honor, Sally.”
“I have.”
Her gaze sweeps me and then Sadie. “You never come to these things.” Now Sadie’s gaze is on me, assessing. “I hope you’re not trying to steal my star attraction.”
“Not until she’s done here.” I sweep my hand through the air. “I just decided to drop by after one too many meetings today.”
I might be on sabbatical, but there are some things I can’t and don’t want to get out of. Like the meetings today. Like nailing Sadie down. In a non-sexual way, of course.
“You know how it is, one too many meetings and a soiree is just the thing,” I add.
She laughs like I said something hilarious and Sadie’s expression doesn’t change, but there’s that same dislike that beats in the air. “I know you’re going to want to hire Black Raven for your new place.”
The elevator dings and she breezes past.
“Y’know, Sally,” I say before I can stop myself, “don’t underestimate Jemima.”
“These people. Of course you defend them. You’re all the same.”
“Really?”
“They gush like I’m a circus attraction.”
“You make yourself that to them and you know it,” I say, shifting to face her. “What? Did you grow up poor after some rich fuck stole your daddy’s money?”
“That’s what your kind do. Get richer by screwing the system and charging the little guy more and more and more.”
I just laugh. “You screw the system by stealing from us and turning that to your advantage. I don’t think we’re that different.”
Her eyes are pure, burning hostility. “Galaxies apart, Kingston.” She pauses. “What did you mean about our host?”
“Your employer?”
“Client.” She waits.
“Jemima comes across as a ditz whose biggest thrill in her life is you and yeah, she’ll lunch on stories of your being here, doing her security system, but I’ve seen her slice apart powerful men with one word. She’s a kickass, killer of a lawyer.”
“But Mr. Mao likes ditz.”
“Mao’s an idiot whose wealth rivals mine. Jemima made adjustments to get the life she wanted.”
“You all disgust me.”
I smile because damn if I don’t like her. No, I don’t, not really. “You talk like you have morals. You don’t. You’d rob everyone blind in here if it suited you.”
“And you have morals?”
“I’m talking about you. And there are all kinds of morals, Sally .”
“Like shades of black and white? You’ll twist anything to suit yourself.”
“And so will you.”
Jemima walks past, and flashes an enquiring look at Sadie.
She sighs. “Duty calls.”
“I expect an answer in less than two hours. Or I’ll get someone else.”
She doesn’t answer. Just walks off.
I set down the glass on a tray held by a passing waiter and go to the elevator and hit the button.
Stepping in the empty space in chrome and white, I go down a few floors and then transfer to the equally empty one for the rest of the building and take that to the foyer. I could have taken the public one all the way, but that meant picking my way back through people who just might want to talk to me. So I took the private one.
Outside, I lean against my car that found a spot outside. It’s cold, but I don’t bother getting my coat from my driver. Right now, with the dark ink sky above, the lights of Manhattan giving the place a softer glow, I like the bite of the cold. It keeps me sharp.
I gambled in there. Giving Sadie an ultimatum of two hours or I get someone else is a risk because something tells me she doesn’t like ultimatums. And if I fail, I’ll do that; get someone else.
But I don’t think I will.
For one thing, someone like Sadie would kill to get their hands on a Sinclair jewel. So would most people, but for a cat burglar of her caliber, it’s a coup to be the one to find it. If it was stolen, steal it back. To touch, look, evaluate. All a privilege.
For another, I saw that scrap of paper my mother dropped.
Sadie’s going to take the job.
She’s just fucking with me.
But I’ve had enough of that. I need to move.
Sadie will come down. Sooner rather than later.
Funny thing is, I hate those people, too. And I’m more than aware I could have been one, so could have my brothers. Instead, we all chose to work. With a push from Father. And we worked hard.
I’d never say we had it hard, like many out there. And we did come from a place of privilege, but we earned what we got. We built our businesses and companies ground up.
Those people…so many just took what they were given and did nothing with it, other than be seen at the right places and donate to the best causes and call it a tax write off.
Even Jemima. She traded in her career for luxurious boredom, the kind of cage she perhaps enjoys, but is still a cage. She could have had it all.
Then again, maybe she didn’t want it all. Maybe what she does now and who she is, is where she wants to be. We don’t socialize. And I honestly don’t care enough to find out.
And Sadie? I know a little about her, but most of her past is hidden away. Fine by me. I want her to get me my dues, not hand me her life story wrapped in a bow. But I’ll be keeping an eye on her, that’s for sure. We’re a little too alike. And not just in our dislike for those who like to be idle, rest on haunches not of their own making, and rub unearned glory over themselves like some kind of tanning lotion. No, we both have a ruthless streak. And I don’t trust her not to try and rob me blind if she could.
She can’t, though. I’m not a pushover and I’m a different breed from those above.
A woman steps out of the glass and steel foyer, heels eating up the pavement as the cream coat on her lays open and shows me flashes of shimmering curves in black. And her gaze zeroes in on me as she continues, right on up to where I am by the curb.
I want her mouth again.
Just to see if it tastes as good as I remember.
I don’t make a move.
“If I’d known I’d inspire this kind of devotion in you, I’d have gotten you a signed photo.”
“Well?” I ask.
She sighs. “I was working. It’s what I do.”
“Yes, I’m aware of the concept of work, Sadie.”
“Don’t look at me like I’m a criminal,” she says, stopping short of me a few inches. “I’m overhauling her security.”
“And casing the joint?”
A small smile touches her mouth. “I do that for fun. Not work.”
It would be part of the job, though. I can see that. And my needling her isn’t as satisfying as I want it to be. She’s too good at keeping most of her responses under lock and key.
“The clock’s ticking, Sadie. What’s your answer?”
“I still have forty minutes.”
“I’m changing the rules.”
“Your type always does. And I’m thinking. Still.”
She turns to walk away, something I’m beginning to think is a signature move on her part, and it probably is. So I wait until she’s taken four or five steps. Then I speak.
“One last thing, Sadie.”
She stops, like there’s something in my tone. And there is. Slowly she turns, tilting her head to one side.
That scrap of paper.
It’s no coincidence.
“What are you up to with my mother?”