Chapter Five （Surprisingly） Not the Worst Date I’ve Ever Been On
Adelina
I should be freaking out right now, but I’m unexpectedly calm. Maybe it’s a coping mechanism. Like my brain knows to release an excess of serotonin to keep from going into a total destructive meltdown. Or maybe I’m delusional enough to believe that I have everything under control.
Denial can be such a beautiful thing.
Despite being called Kebab Town, the restaurant isn’t even big enough to host five two-seater tables.
It’s a cramped space with sticky black linoleum flooring, grease-covered walls and a bathroom the size of a broom closet.
In fact, I’m fairly certain it is the broom closet, and they somehow squeezed a toilet and sink in there to meet health code requirements.
West sits across from me, a large lamb kebab platter set out before him on a paper plate.
They only offer plastic forks and knives here, too.
Not exactly great for the environment, but at least the food smells great and the portions are generous.
He eats like I’m not even here, eyes closed as he savors every bite.
Either he’s incredibly stupid, or he doesn’t think I’m a threat.
I’ll make him regret it either way.
“This is so good,” he groans dramatically. “I should join a food tour while I’m here. Vancouver’s got food tours, right?”
I strum my fingers along the table’s surface, staring him down while I mentally put on my detective’s cap. If he’s not from around here, where is he from and how on earth did he manage to track me down?
He opens his eyes and grins, his smile somewhat crooked. “Your head looks like it’s about to burst.”
“How did you know it was me?” I whisper, casting a cautious glance over my shoulder. There’s a young couple in one corner of the restaurant, as well as a lone businessman who looks like he’s had a really rough day, but they don’t seem like they’re paying us any mind.
“I’ll admit you nearly gave me a heart attack when I noticed the money missing,” he says.
“But, as I’m sure you know, there’s nothing money can’t buy—and that includes information.
It took me all week to find you. Had to do some thorough digging on the forums, but someone eventually let your name slip. ”
My heart leaps up and lodges in my throat. “But I’ve been careful.”
“Not your real name. ‘QWERTY.’ That’s all I had to go off of for a while.
You’re very well-known in certain circles.
Always have lots of work, apparently.” West takes a bite out of his skewer.
“But then I found someone wanting to sell a mule account. He’d apparently sold one to you a few years ago but wasn’t happy with the piddly kickback.
All I had to do was pay him triple your normal rate and he sang like a bird. ”
“Piddly?” I echo with a frown. I don’t know why I’m so offended. That’s really not what I should be focusing on right now.
West shrugs. “What can I say? Criminals are a greedy sort.”
“I’m not like them. I only do this because—”
“Are you referring to your little charity spree?” he interjects. “Yes, I’m well aware. It’s actually what wound up getting you caught.”
I listen intently, teetering between irritation and genuine intrigue. “Explain.”
“Ms. Choi, you donated exclusively to local charities. It was no small feat untangling your money trail, but in the end, it led me to Vancouver. Had you given to more international organizations, it would have been much more difficult.”
I sit there, stewing in my own stupidity. I’d been so confident that nobody would take the time to follow the mess of transactions I left behind. It turns out I’m not the only one with a can-do attitude and questionable morals.
This guy is trouble.
“That’s when things got really tricky,” he continues. “I had a location and a handle, but not an identity. It wasn’t until an extensive internet search that I found an article.”
He reaches for something in his back pocket and I move on instinct, my muscles a wound-up spring.
I snatch up my plastic fork, fully prepared to jab, but he counters with just as much speed, placing his hand over mine to pin it there on the table.
The other customers glance at us, startled by the commotion.
“Relax,” he says. “It’s just my phone.”
As promised, he produces the device, opens up a pre-saved link in a browser tab, and sets it between us. I give it a quick read. It’s a local newspaper announcement—the one that Dad paid for when Lily and I graduated from high school.
Congratulations to Adelina and Lily Choi!
Lily Choi will be attending Simon Fraser University to study political science. Pictured left: Lily winning first place at the regional spelling bee.
Adelina Choi will be attending the Massachusetts Institute of Technology to study computer science. Pictured right: Adelina with her provincially ranked junior robotics team, Team QWERTY.
Beneath the announcement is one last picture of Mom, Dad, Lily and me on graduation day. Lily and I are dressed in our blue gowns, caps adorning our heads. We’re all smiling at the camera.
West sits back. “I don’t believe in coincidences,” he says.
“An MIT computer scientist from Vancouver involved with a robotics team with the same name as my thief’s handle.
There was a chance I was connecting unrelated dots.
Grasping at straws, really, but I had a feeling.
Finding your address after that was a cinch. ”
“How?” I ask.
“Your twin,” he answers vaguely. “She tagged you in a photo on her Instagram page.”
A chill runs through me. He has to be bringing her up for some reason. If he plans on using her as blackmail, I’m going to stab his eyes out with my fork. “She wouldn’t be stupid enough to tag my location too.”
“It was a picture of you two at a restaurant a year ago. Caption said something about moving into your new apartment. Figured I’d check out the area, ask around.
Came across a lovely gentleman named Robert only a few blocks from here.
Showed him this picture and he pointed me in your general direction. ”
My stomach twists. I’m sure Robert didn’t mean anything by it. West clearly tricked him, that’s all.
“So you’re a creep, is what you’re telling me.”
“Trust me, I take no pleasure in any of this. Although I one thousand percent agree that geotagging is a tool for evil.”
“If you came here to get your money back,” I say through gritted teeth, “it’s already gone. And don’t you dare ask me to steal it back from those charities, because that’s just plain wrong.”
“Interesting,” he muses.
“What is?”
“You don’t look like much of a thief.”
“Good. God forbid I be mistaken for a landlord.”
West laughs at this, bright and loud. The low bass of his voice vibrates through the air. “I don’t want the money back.”
I strum my fingers impatiently against the table, surprised and confused and exasperated in equal measure. “Then what are you doing here? Why go through all the trouble?”
“I would like to propose a deal,” he says slowly, carefully. I wouldn’t be surprised if he practiced his lines in front of a mirror, they’re that rehearsed. “I want you to work with me.”
I stare at him blankly. Did I hear that right, or have I finally snapped? The pieces slowly begin to click into place. His ability to navigate the dark web, to ask the right questions. The massive amount of money just sitting there in his bank account.
I was wrong before. He isn’t some rich elite living a life of luxury.
“You’re a thief too,” I realize aloud. It feels strange to say it, like an admission of guilt, though there’s no denying that’s what I am. “The money I took from you…it wasn’t even yours to begin with.”
“Birds of a feather.” He shrugs casually, his gaze somewhere distant. “Though I’m not an active practitioner.”
“Oh?”
“In another life, I made bad choices. Ran with the wrong crowd. Thought that their way of doing things was the only way to get ahead in life. That isn’t who I am anymore.”
“So you’re…retired?”
“Sure, we can put it that way.”
Irritation licks at the nape of my neck. I suddenly understand how annoyed Lily gets whenever I don’t give her a straight answer.
“Who’s the target?” I ask.
“I can’t tell you until you agree to join me.”
“Then that’s going to be a problem, because I don’t steal from just anybody. I only take from the rich.”
“Naturally. They’re the ones with money to take. I can tell you how much we stand to gain, though.”
He pauses to take a slow bite of his kebab.
“Oh, come on,” I hiss.
“Fifty,” he says after an infuriatingly long while.
“Thousand?” I attempt to clarify, unimpressed. When he doesn’t respond, I try again. “Million?” My voice comes out squeaky. He raises his eyebrows, as if to suggest I try even higher. “Billion!?” I croak in disbelief.
“A big ol’ capital B.”
I deal with numbers all day, lines of code tucked between pretty semicolons and brackets, but nothing could have prepared me for this.
A five followed by ten zeroes. I can visualize it, but I have difficulty wrapping my head around a sum of that size.
Is it even possible? The takes I’ve been scoring look like chump change in comparison.
I’m pretty sure that’s enough to buy roughly five hundred high-end private jets.
“You’re lying,” I say.
“Am I?”
The sinking feeling in my gut tells me not to get ahead of myself, but my pulse is already racing. What could I do with that kind of money? Think of all the people I could help.
“What happens if I say no? Are you going to blackmail me?”
He clicks his tongue and shakes his head. “That’s such an awful word.”
Neither a yes nor a no. It’s Schrodinger’s cat, but I’m the one trapped inside the box.
The more I think about it, the more I realize I don’t have much of a choice.
If I decline to work with him, he could easily turn me in to the cops.
But if I agree to carry out the job and it goes sideways, I could end up behind bars regardless. Maybe even dead.
And if Mom ever found out…Honestly, just pull the trigger at that point. I’d rather die than suffocate beneath her avalanche of disappointment.
“Why me?” I ask. “Can’t you find someone else?”
He takes a moment to think before he says, “Because I’m on a deadline, and I believe in seizing opportunities as they come.”
I glare at him, swallowing the string of not-so-polite names I desperately want to call him. “You want me to work for you—”
“With,” he corrects. “I believe in lateral work relationships. It encourages productivity.”
“You want me to work with you, but you’re not exactly being forthcoming. How am I supposed to trust you won’t stab me in the back? How do I know you’re not leading me straight into danger?”
“Don’t be so dramatic. I always keep my tech support away from the main event. I’ll be the one doing the heavy lifting.”
“So you can run off with the take?”
“So I can minimize risk,” he says firmly. “You won’t be in harm’s way, I assure you.”
“You expect me to believe your word, Mr. Porter?”
“Please, call me West. And yes. It’s a little-known concept called honor among thieves.”
I take a deep breath and exhale slowly. This is a fine little mess I’m in.
Things might be different if I had more information, if I could glance at the cards in his hands.
But I don’t know the first thing about who West truly is.
What are his motivations? Where did he come from?
And how the hell can I get out of this hole I’ve accidentally dug myself into?
“Can I at least have some time to think about it?” I ask. “Since you’re not going to give me details until I agree.”
West beams, flashing his pearly whites as the corners of his eyes crinkle with his smile. I bet he thinks he’s handsome. It would surprise him to know just how badly I want to break his nose.
“I can give you twenty-four hours,” he says. He reaches into his pocket, and this time pulls out a business card for one of the fancier hotels by the Vancouver waterfront. He hasn’t provided a room number, but the hotel address is really all I need. “Time is of the essence, Adelina.”
I stand and swipe up the card. “That’s Ms. Choi to you,” I grumble before turning on my heels to make a hasty exit.