Chapter Sixteen It’s the Little Things
West
“Good morning, sunshine.”
“Shut up.”
I suppress a smile as I hand her a cup of coffee. My own tastes like absolute crap—burnt, with bitter grinds swimming around the bottom—but they come complimentary with the hotel, so who cares? If there’s one thing a thief loves more than anything in the world, it’s free stuff.
Adelina takes a hefty swig. If she doesn’t like it, she certainly doesn’t have the energy to complain.
The combination of her flat hair and wrinkled hoodie, and the dark circles under her eyes, delights me to no end.
She reminds me so much of a grumpy Doberman.
I’m not scared of her, though. Every Doberman I’ve ever met was as sweet as can be.
They just have a bad rap and intimidating presence—not unlike my dear hacker.
“You’re not a morning person, huh?” I ask as I reach for the car keys in my jacket pocket.
“No.”
“You know, banter’s a lot more fun when you put a little effort in. I’m trying to build team rapport.”
“Sorry, let me try again,” she says before clearing her throat. “Fuck no.”
I bump her arm with my elbow. “That’s the spirit.”
Adelina grumbles under her breath. I don’t catch what she says, but I have a sneaking suspicion that it’s something that could make even the most foul-mouthed of sailors blush. “Are we going to stand around all day, or are we getting to work?”
“Are you that excited to spend the whole day in a confined space with me?”
She presses her lips into a thin line. “Remind me again why you can’t do recon by yourself?”
“Safety in numbers.”
“Then take Joseph. Or, better yet, Diana, since she’s so keen on making sure we’re doing our jobs.”
“Joseph and Diana are teaming up to cover the night shifts. That way, we’ll be able to learn about their movements around the clock.”
“Wouldn’t it be easier to set up cameras?” Adelina asks. “Plug them into a couple of power banks and you’re all set. Hell, you heard Diana. I’m sure she’d be happy to buy us a small drone. We could do a lot with an aerial shot.”
“Sure, but you have to take into account blind spots, camouflaging the cameras…and if Berruci spots a drone overhead, it’s game over. Not to mention you’d have to scrub through hours of footage.” I tap my temple. “A good thief is a patient one. No shortcuts allowed.”
“Seems inefficient.”
I offer her a warm smile. “You can’t put all of your faith in technology. Sometimes the old-fashioned way is best.”
“Can’t put your faith in technology?” she echoes, incredulous. “How dare you say that to my face and live.”
“I said you can’t put all of it.” I laugh. “Trust me, Adelina.”
Adelina tilts her head back and takes a big gulp of coffee. A weary sigh bubbles past her lips. “Fine. The boring way it is.”
Tuesday, 6 p.m.
Her notes are immaculate. They’re typed—so of course they are.
Shift change @ 6 a.m. ? Night crew relieved.
Shift change @ 6 p.m. ? Day crew relieved. (Do they get a lunch break? Info TBD.)
10 guards working patrol, always in pairs. Armed.
Total time to walk perimeter = 20 minutes. 5-minute gap between pairs.
3 guards working booth at front gate.
They’ve got trained guard dogs housed in backyard. Sharp teeth. Big yikes.
“Don’t you think that last part is a little unnecessary?” I ask her as I read her screen. She’s crammed her open laptop between the windshield and the dashboard.
Adelina leans back in her seat and tilts her head toward me. “I’m trying to be thorough. Wouldn’t want you to mistake them for a basket of kittens.”
“Funnily enough, I’m deathly allergic to cats.”
“Ha.”
“Seriously. I could die. Someone should probably know that.”
She makes a sound. Not quite a laugh, but more than an exhale. I catch the barest glimpse of her smile before she replies, “Duly noted.”
“Are you deathly allergic to anything?” I ask.
“I fail to see how that’s relevant.”
“I thought we were bonding.”
“Over allergies?”
“You give me so little, Ms. Choi. Work with me here.”
She’s quiet for a long time. I’m convinced she’s going to spend the rest of the evening ignoring me when she says, “Bananas.”
My eyebrows shoot up. “Really?”
“No. I hate them, though. Growing up, it was easier to tell people I had a banana allergy than to try to explain why I didn’t like them. People get weirdly defensive over their favorite fruit.”
“Honestly? I get it. It’s the texture.”
Adelina’s eyes shimmer. “Right? It’s gross.”
In the grand scheme of things, learning about someone’s food preferences is the furthest thing from exciting, but a thrill rushes through me all the same.
Adelina is a treasure trove of secrets, and I’ve accidentally stumbled upon a gem.
I tuck this rare, shiny fact away—not to use but to admire.
It feels like a privilege to hold, to keep for myself.
What other jewels is she willing to share with me?
There hasn’t been any new movement in ages.
Adelina glances at her wristwatch. She looks like she’d rather watch paint dry.
I take the opportunity to get a good look at it.
It’s nice. A mid-to-high-end model cast in rose gold.
Worth a couple thousand, if I had to venture a guess.
A bit flashy for someone like her, but I’ve never seen her take it off. A light laugh escapes me.
“What?” she demands.
“All that grief you gave me yesterday about being old-fashioned, but you wear an analog watch.”
The corner of her lip pulls up into a grin. “It was a gift,” she says with much more warmth than I was anticipating. “From my father.”
For a moment, I feel a pang of guilt for pinching it at the airport. No wonder she was pissed. If I’d known, I probably would have gone for something less sentimental for my demonstration.
“Great taste,” I murmur.
“Yeah,” she replies softly, thoughtfully running a thumb over the strap. “Will you teach me how you did it? Lift it, I mean.”
“But a magician never reveals his tricks.”
Adelina huffs. “Never mind.”
“I’m kidding. Give me your hand, Grumpy.”
I’m surprised when she does so without argument. No comeback for the nickname, apparently. Maybe she’s too distracted by the way I take her wrist, easily encircling it beneath my fingers. Her skin is wonderfully soft and cool. For a brief, fleeting moment, I wonder if she’s this soft all over.
“The first step,” I tell her, my voice strangely hoarse, “is to condition your mark to your touch.” I trace the pad of my thumb over her pulse point, studying the subtle lines and creases of her palm and the way her long, elegant fingers naturally curl.
She lets me press my hand flat against hers but doesn’t take her eyes off me as I interlace our fingers. We look good together.
“Why, um—” Adelina takes a breath. “Why?”
“If I go straight for the steal, it’s too obvious. It’s all about misdirection.”
“Are you sure it’s not just an excuse to hold hands?”
I can’t help but grin. “Would you like me to stop?”
Adelina’s ears turn a glorious shade of pink. “What’s the next step?” she asks quietly.
“Now you have to manipulate your mark’s attention,” I say.
“You know how a magician has a pretty assistant to use as a distraction? Pickpockets work much the same way. When you’re out in crowded tourist areas, you’ll find that most work in teams. The goal is to overwhelm, to split focus.
They’ll crowd you on the train or push petitions in your face for you to sign.
Everything is done to cover their true intentions. ”
“Is that why you had me stand up and pick up my backpack at the airport?” she asks. “To split my attention?”
I nod. “You’re a fast learner.”
“Then how are you going to do this? I know your tricks now. You can’t distract me.”
“Can’t I?” I ask as I lean forward, closing the already minimal space between us.
I place my free hand on her knee, sliding my palm slowly up her thigh.
Adelina’s gaze falls to my lips, her own parting just so as she inhales, breathless.
Even though it’s starting to get dark out, with little more than the orange glow of the setting sun illuminating the car’s interior, I can see the way her pupils are blown wide.
“You’re probably right,” I murmur. “You’re far too clever for me, Adelina.” I hold her wristwatch up by the strap, swinging it gently from side to side like a pendulum.
“Show-off,” she grumbles without heat, quick to take what’s hers. Adelina turns away, but there’s no denying the bashful grin that stretches across her face.
Wednesday, 12:45 p.m.
“I spy with my little eye…”
“West, I swear to God.”
She turns away from me to observe out the passenger-side window. Despite her best efforts, I can make out the slight shake of her shoulders as she holds back a laugh.
Thursday, 7:15 a.m.
“Good morning, sunshine,” I say as I hold out a cup of hot coffee. This has become our daily routine.
“Mornin’,” Adelina says as she takes the offering. She doesn’t even pin me with a death glare today.
I think she’s warming up to me. “Ready to get going?”
“Wait just a moment,” a sultry voice calls.
I turn to find Diana sauntering toward us. She’s in an off-white button-down and jeans dyed a deep burgundy that complements her dark skin tone. Her hair is curled, and her eyeliner is sharp. How she’s managed to look so put together before eight in the morning is beyond me.
“I’ll be joining you today,” she says. “If I have to spend another evening trapped in a confined space with Joseph, I’m going to lose my mind.”
I don’t understand the pang of disappointment that settles in my chest. I like Diana. We go way back. And I’m sure that as our investor she wants to make sure we’re upholding our half of the surveillance operation. But for some reason, the thought of her joining us today feels…intrusive.
I glance at Adelina, only to find her already looking at me.
Her gaze darts away, her lips pressed into a fine line.
I’d like to indulge the idea that she doesn’t want Diana cutting into our quality time either, but I know better.
She probably doesn’t want someone breathing down our necks while we do… whatever it is that we’ve been doing.
“Shall we?” I ask her.
Adelina nods. “After you.”
We get through our shift in awkward and excruciating silence.
Diana playing third wheel doesn’t help at all, and the problem is that I don’t think she even realizes how much of a damper she’s put on things.
I’m a shameless flirt—that much is true.
I like putting Adelina on the spot for the simple pleasure of seeing her face turn red.
But it’s a different matter entirely with our guest sitting in the back seat. I don’t want to embarrass Adelina.
Every now and then, I catch Adelina watching me.
It feels like a game, one where we don’t have to say anything to play.
The next time I catch her eye, I shoot her a wink.
Again, she’s quick to look away, sheepish and oddly adorable.
She tries to hide her smile, but I make out her reflection in the window. I can’t help but chuckle.
“What’s so funny?” Diana asks from the back seat.
“Nothing,” I say innocently. “Nothing at all.”