Page 86 of Beautiful Lies
We circled the block and got lucky when a spot opened two doors down from the pawn shop. She backed into the space and after one adjustment, her tires brushed the curb and she cut the engine. “That was impressive,” I said, handing over her bag.
“Driving is my favorite hobby. I love anything with an engine. Planes, cars, motorcycles… anything that can take me away from it all.”
I wasn’t sure what to say about that, but she was already out of the car, her Louis Vuitton bag in the crook of her arm. I joined her on the sidewalk. Next to her, I felt like a midget. She had at least six inches on me. “Why are you selling jewelry?” I asked, looking at the blue neon sign in the window that said: DIAMONDS.
“Cash is king. And it doesn’t leave a trail.” She grabbed my arm to stop me from going inside. Why was she worried about leaving a trail? I was still trying to make sense of that little tidbit she’d dropped in my lap about getting cozy with Connor. Coffee and lunch, exchanging numbers… and she’d had no idea he was her brother? “By the way, my name is Grace Matthews. But you can call me Gracie.”
She let go of my arm and placed her hand on the door handle. It was my turn to grab her arm and haul her back. “Why are you using a fake name?” I looked up and down the street. From what I could tell, everyone was going about their business, not the least bit interested in the vertically-challenged blonde and America’s Next Top Model. “And who would be following a trail? Are you on the lam?”
“Not exactly.”
Not exactly? Maybe she was a jewel thief. I glanced at the Porsche, and the words grand theft auto flashed across my brain. “Is the jewelry yours? Is the Porsche yours?” I hissed.
“Yes. And… kind of.”
“Kind of?”
“The jewelry is mine. The Porsche is my dad’s.”
“Did he lend it to you?”
She dodged that question. “Are you with me, Ava? Or should I do this alone?” There was a challenge in her voice and it took me all of two seconds to make my decision. I was all in. I wanted answers and I wanted to see what this mysterious sister was up to.
“You’re not going in there alone,Gracie.”
She gave me a big smile. Connor had a shitload of explaining to do. If I ever spoke to him again. This was getting crazier by the minute. Blindsided by the appearance of Keira who I knew nothing about. Connor and Killian’s sister. I still couldn’t wrap my head around that. Which meant that Connor had gone down to Miami with a purpose. To find his mother. But why had he kept it a secret?
We walked into the brightly-lit pawn shop, and I was kind of disappointed that it was so sterile, and nothing like an antique shop which I’d envisioned. According to the sign on the wall, they paid cash for diamonds, gold, silver, and electronics. A long glass case spanned the wall on the left, and I cast my eye at the collection of coins and watches.
“Can I help you, ladies?” asked the middle-aged man with a barrel chest and a combover behind the counter.
Keira pulled a velvet drawstring bag out of her Louis Vuitton and emptied the contents onto the glass countertop. I gasped. A diamond tennis bracelet. Diamond studs that must have been one carat each. And a small mountain of gold.
“What’s your best price?” she asked.
The man held a loupe to his eye and inspected the diamonds. I studied the contents of the case, my eye catching on a display of diamond engagement rings and wedding bands. How sad that someone would need to sell an engagement ring. Or worse, they’d gotten divorced and she’d rather have the money than a reminder of a broken promise.
For better or worse. In sickness and health. Until death do us part. People repeated those words every day, making vows and promises to love each other for the rest of their lives. The words were easy to say but hard to put into practice.
I loved Connor. He was the love of my life, and I’d never doubted that for a minute. But every time we turned around another obstacle was thrown into our path. I’d wanted to believe that our love had been strong enough to weather any storm. To deal with any curveball life threw at us. Ironic, really, that every time I convinced myself that he’d changed, that we were headed somewhere good, another curveball hit me from left field.
Keira nudged my arm and I dragged my eyes away from the display. “You okay?”
“Yeah.”
“Victor’s going to get me the cash.”
“Did he offer you a good price?” I asked, having missed the entire transaction.
“A fraction of what it’s worth, but I expected that. Everyone needs to earn a living somehow.”
“Do you work?” I asked.
“No. I was in college,” she said, running her hand over an acoustic guitar, part of a collection hanging on the wall across from the glass cases. “But I’m not going back to finish my degree. I’m staying in Brooklyn. I’m going to get a job and an apartment.” She gave me a bright smile as if that prospect thrilled her.
“How old are you?”
“I’ll be twenty-one in January.”
