Chapter 6

There was a rationale behind choosing strangers as marks for my jobs. Any form of connection posed the potential risk of complicating matters.

Lorenzo cast a quick glance at his watch. "Damn. I've got a meeting I need to attend."

My heart tightened. Had I managed to mess things up before they even began?

"No problem at all."

"It was great seeing you, Ophelia."

"Likewise."

He paused, surveying the bar. "Hey, I know this is unexpected, but are you busy this Saturday? It's just great seeing you, and I feel like we didn't really get a chance to catch up."

Damn, yes.

I feigned contemplation about my plans. "I think I'm free, actually. What do you have in mind?"

His eyes sparkled. "Oh, a friend of mine is throwing a little party."

A little party? Was that all he was going to disclose before taking me to the mayor's gala? Damn... What if it was a different event?

"Actually, I lied," he chuckled. "It's kind of a big thing. A bit on the fancy side. I know this might sound strange, but would you want to come as my date?"

"That doesn't sound strange at all. It actually sounds nice."

He grinned. "So, do you still have the same phone number like Alistair?"

"Same number." My brother's name on his lips felt odd. "Do you and Alistair still talk?"

"Oh, yeah. I mean, not all the time, but occasionally." He glanced at his watch again. "I got a new number, but I still have yours. I'll text you for your address and pick you up Saturday around...seven?"

Seven it is. The beginning of the final job that will get me all the money I need. "See you then."

Cecilia practically bounced off the walls as we arrived at the two-story brick townhouse on Saturday afternoon. I couldn't have felt more different, my chest twisting in knots as I raised my fist to the bold red door.

"Excited?" I asked Cecilia, tucking her hair behind her ears. She grinned and tugged on her unicorn backpack.

"So excited!" Cecilia jumped. The door opened, and her bright blue eyes widened. "Uncle Alistair!"

"Cecilia bear!" Alistair was dressed in his usual flannel attire, his light brown hair swept to one side.

"I missed you!" Cecilia said. Watching how tightly she hugged my brother filled me with more guilt than I wanted to admit.

Alistair bent over. "Why don't you go to the kitchen? Uncle Mickey is making a pie."

"An apple pie?" Cecilia asked excitedly.

"An apple pie," Alistair nodded. "Just the way you like it."

"Yes!" Cecilia cried out, sprinting past Alistair and into the house without even saying goodbye.

"Be good, Cecilia," I called out. "I love you!"

Of course, she was too excited to respond. Alistair glanced back, a content smile on his face. When he turned back to look at me, his grin faded completely. "She'll be fine, Ophelia."

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes and crossed my arms instead. "I've never worried about you taking good care of her, Alistair."

"That's funny," Alistair whispered. "What other reason would you have for not letting me see my niece in three months?"

My fists tightened, nails biting into my palms. "You really want to do this right now?"

He shrugged, slipping his hands into his pockets. "Would you prefer me to plan our argument for next week? Or maybe in another three months."

"Why do you have to be so difficult?" I snapped.

Alistair's husband, Mickey, appeared in the kitchen doorway, frowning at us from down the hall. "Can you two take it outside so that I don't have to explain to Cecilia what d-i-c-k is?"

"Uncle Mickey, you know I can spell, right?" Cecilia's voice floated from behind him.

Alistair gave a sad smile and stepped onto the front step, closing the door behind him. "I'm sorry, Ophelia. Okay? I don't want to fight with you."

I pressed my foot into the brick steps. "Yeah, I don't want to fight with you either." Even though it felt nearly impossible to avoid with him.

"So what happened?" Alistair asked. "Your babysitter was busy tonight—is that why you called me?"

"Something like that." I hadn't hired a babysitter in months because I couldn't afford it. "Truth be told, it's my first night off in a while."

He studied me, a smirk spreading across his face. "Are you wearing makeup?"

I touched my cheek, forgetting I'd already put it on. "Maybe."

"You have a date, don't you?"

Pressing my lips together, I shrugged. "Something like that."

Alistair nodded. "Good for you, O. Glad to see you're putting yourself out there." I was tempted to mention Lorenzo but decided against it. That would open a whole other can of questions I didn't want to get into. Were they still really that close? I knew they had stayed in touch, but I had figured that meant the formal birthday text, a thirty-minute catch-up call once a year. Lorenzo had said “occasionally.” What did he mean?

"Yeah, well, got to have a life somehow."

"You have a life, Ophelia. A good one. You still working at the diner?"

Seriously? "Why do you ask?"

He picked up on my tone immediately. "It was just a question, Ophelia."

"It's never just a question with you, Alistair. It's an interrogation."

Alistair chewed on his bottom lip. "It's only an interrogation if you have something to feel guilty about, Ophelia."

I narrowed my eyes. "Save your psychoanalysis for your clients, Alistair."

"You know what, Ophelia? I'm tired of trying to help you. Of worrying about you." He lowered his voice. "If you're working as a hacker again, I don't even want to know."

"Well, I'm not. Tell Cecilia I love her." I spun around, trotting down the stairs.

"I'll drop her off in the morning!" Alistair called out.

I lifted a hand to tell him I heard him, but I couldn't get away from his words fast enough.

Tonight would be my last, and that would be that.