Ivy didn’t miss a beat. “Oh, and you are all action, right?”
“Quit it you two,” I snapped. “Both of you are all talk and no action. Stop obsessing over any man when we have a bigger problem at hand.”
“Well, that man is fine and you know it,” Ivy grumbled, rolling her eyes like a little brat that lost her favorite piece of candy.
Juliette shrugged her shoulders. “I’d rather find an old man to fuck. Italians are not my thing.”
“Oh, we're back to sugar daddies?” Ivy snickered. “I thought you changed your mind when you saw the picture of the first sugar daddy. His skin was extra wrinkly.” Juliette rolled her eyes. We all heard her screech when she went through candidates. None of them were as hot as her dad. Ugh, I still got hot thinking about him. “And I bet you that fine piece of Italian ass has more stamina,” Ivy added smugly. “So yeah, I’d pay that man any fucking way he wanted to wipe out that surveillance. Fuck my ass, my pussy, my mouth. Whatever the fuck he wanted.”
“Stop you two,” I chided them, shaking my head, though I couldn’t resist smiling. Then worry shot through my mind and I glanced at Wynter, frowning. “Y-you are not-”
I trailed off hesitantly. I didn’t want her to sell herself to save us. Wynter shut her book with a thud and she glared at all of us.
“No, he’s not making me pay him in the form of a blow job,” she snapped, annoyed. “Or any form of sex. You freaks.”
Juliette and Ivy shared a glance, a heartbeat passed and then they burst into laughter. They laughed so wildly, they giggled like two girls discussing the first cute boy they’d ever seen.
“Then what?” Juliette asked, offering Wynter her bottle of whiskey.
“None of your business,” she answered, glaring at her cousin. “Now, let’s focus on the real problem. We fucking suck at this breaking into safes business.”
Juliette exhaled exasperated, then took another swig of her drink. “I know,” she agreed, which had us all snap our heads her way. It was unlike Juliette to admit defeat. “I hoped Dad-” she trailed off, her eyebrows furrowing. Again, her behavior struck me as odd. “I hoped the combination would be the same here as in the club.”
I frowned, wondering what she meant, but before I could open my mouth, Wynter beat me to it.
“The Eastside Club?” she questioned Juliette and the latter nodded. “You are sure you know that combo?”
“Yes, I know it by heart. Though it’s not helping us here,” she retorted dryly.
Wynter glanced out the window, a pensive look in her eyes. The night was dark, but occasionally, you’d catch a glimpse of shimmering white foam from the waves when the moon glow hit it just right. Juliette’s dad was loaded because this house was even nicer than the one he had in the city.
Wynter placed her book down on the couch and stood up, then strode to the liquor cabinet. She skimmed the assortment until she found what she wanted. Grabbing a bottle of wine, she opened the drawer and pulled out a corkscrew.
“What?” Ivy asked, fidgeting. “Your silent thinking is freaking me out.”
“You have an idea,” I mumbled. “A good one.”
After four years together, I knew Wynter well. All four of us knew each other very well. We were so in tune, even our professors and other students often thought the four of us grew up together. And while our personalities were different, they also complemented each other. And we always had each other’s back. Always.
The sound of the cork popping broke the silence and the three of us flinched at the sudden sound despite watching her open it.
“It’s simple,” she started, locking her incredibly big beautiful eyes on us. “We go to the Eastside Club, distract Uncle in the bar area, while one of us goes into his back office and opens the safe. Take the money and then we clear.”
Bum-bum. Bum-bum. Bum-bum.
I choked out a laugh. She had to be joking around. “Nobody keeps five hundred grand in cash on hand. Even in a safe,” I reasoned.
“Uncle does,” Wynter assured me. Though it didn’t feel comforting.
“He really does,” Juliette grumbled. “There are always large amounts of cash around. I guess for emergencies or something.”
“We’ll have to do it tomorrow,” Wynter added. “I have practice in the morning, then we get dressed up and go to the Eastside and rob him. It would probably be better if we do it early in the evening.”
I had to be hallucinating. There was no other explanation for this. Wynter would never suggest a robbery. She was the golden child among us.
“We’ll rob him while he is there?” Juliette asked hesitantly. Damn it! So I did hear her right, unfortunately.
Wynter shrugged. “We’ll have to do it whether he’s there or not. We’re running out of time.”