Page 8 of Release You

“A thief.”

“I prefer con artist.” I rested my hand on his neck.

His pulse throbbed fast and hard against the tips of my fingers. He was affected by my touch, even when his face remained blank.

“Same difference.” He raised an eyebrow. “The question is: what are you here to steal?”

“Nothing.” I jiggled his car keys in front of him.

“What?” He patted his pocket before he snatched the key fob from me.

“Now that we’ve established I have certain skills you could use, tell me. What do you want with this place?”

“We haven’t established anything.” He put his keys back in his front pocket. “I’m just an architect who happens to be good at poker.”

I nodded. That explained a lot—why he could read me like some sort of FBI agent. Whatever he was, I didn’t care. I was done here.

“Fine. Five hundred Gs and the place is all yours.” I smiled at him.

Lisa would have to listen to me. We never should’ve strayedfrom our original plan of winning her appeal and getting her out of jail. The money from my last con was supposed to pay for that. Instead, Lisa had struck a deal with her lawyer to purchase this place.

“Right. Except that’s not how much you paid for your half of the hotel.” He shook his head, a crooked smile pulling on his lips.

“How can you tell?” I crossed my arms.

“You scratch your nose when you lie.” He tapped my nose.

“No, I don’t.” I slapped his hand away.

“Do too.”

What the hell? Did I scratch my nose?

“Four hundred,” I said with conviction.

“Is it really that hard to tell the truth?” He cocked his head.

“I didn’t touch my nose.” I was sure I hadn’t that time.

“Your hand twitched…because you wanted to touch your nose.” His laugh made me feel warm inside.

“Two hundred fifty,” I sighed.

“Was that so hard?” He smiled, and a tiny wrinkle appeared around his right eye.

“You have no idea.” I grabbed my purse off the ground and took out my phone. “When can I get my money?”

“About that.” He rubbed the back of his neck.

“You don’t have the money, do you?”

“Not with me, no. I need a few days.”

“You have two days to come up with the money, or I’ll find a new buyer.” I tramped away from the wreckage.

“I’ll have your money.” He cursed under his breath when his phone rang. “Yeah.” He answered as he headed in the opposite direction as me.

This day was the worst ever. I strode to the end of the street and leaned on one of the barricades. Closing my eyes, I faced the sky as the sunrays burned my cheeks. I’d forgotten how hotit was here in the summer. My nose itched, and I rubbed it. Henry.Okay, so maybe this day wasn’t the worst ever. Smiling, I tapped on my phone and scrolled to the number of the only man who could help me now.

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