Page 3 of Sweet Revenge


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As long as she didn’t run into Melody and get sucked into conversation and introductions, she calculated she could be in and out of the house in under fifteen minutes. As if on cue, she heard Melody’s slow southern drawl from somewhere behind her and pivoted away and down the hall.

The door to the library was open, which was good for her. It wasn’t an off limits room she might get caught in and have to explain her way out of. Sconces highlighted paintings on the walls, and a gaudy chandelier hung down from the ceiling. Wells didn’t have taste so much as a preference for expensive things. Money couldn’t buy everything.

The statue, no bigger than her palm, sat on the edge of a bookshelf. It was even uglier in person. A little golden gargoyle with its mouth twisted in a grimace, claws poised to scratch. She couldn’t imagine why anyone would pay such a hefty sum to get their hands on it.

She pretended to study the titles of the books on the shelf above it as she casually reached for it. When her fingers closed around the cold metal, a buzz shot up her arm. However easy the job, stealing was always a rush. Of power, of skill, of control. Unhooking the clasp on her bag, she shifted so her hands were hidden from the couple examining the paintings and dropped it inside.

She moved one of a trio of paperweights into the spot where the statue had been so the space didn’t look empty. Stepping back from the bookshelf, she wandered slowly toward the door. Once in the hall, she danced between the waiters that came and went from the kitchen. The key here was to leave quickly, but not in a rush. Rushing made people suspicious.

A few people sat on the plush couches in the family room, and the hallway was mostly clear of guests, though some still drifted in through the set of double doors left open to the evening air. Pulling her phone out of her bag, she texted the driver and waited for his signal of acknowledgment.

When she heard heels on the stone followed by Melody’s lilting accent, she flicked the phone to silent and pressed it to her ear.

“It’s only a party, Brad,” she hissed. “I just got here. I haven’t even been inside!” She waited a beat. “Well, it’s not like you cared about leaving me on my own before jetting off to God knows where for work,” she sneered the last word as she turned, letting surprise then embarrassment flit across her face when she met Melody’s gaze.

“And that’s a low blow. I have to go, Bradley. Fine! And thanks for making sure I have a terrible time no matter what I do. Happy anniversary to me,” she snapped. “I’m sorry,” she said to Melody.

Melody reached out to rub her arm, squeezing it gently. “It’s okay. To hell with Brad. Did you want to come in for a drink?”

She looked past her at the guests, the music drifting out into the night, chewing her lip as she considered. “It’ll just make him angry if I stay, and then that’ll be a whole thing. I already called the car.” She held up her phone. “The house is beautiful, Melody.”

Melody gave her a pitying smile, flipping her sleek blonde hair over her shoulder. “If you need a good divorce lawyer, I know a few.”

She smiled sadly as the car pulled up and the valet opened the door. “I’ll keep that in mind just as soon as I have evidence to beat the prenup. I’m sorry I can’t stay.”

Climbing into the car, she settled back against the seat, shooting off a quick text to let her contact know that the job was done and she expected him to meet her at the airport. By two in the morning, she was safely tucked in bed in her sprawling New York apartment, sleeping like a baby.

ChapterTwo

Before even getting out of bed the next morning, she checked the balance on her offshore account. She’d watched her contact make the transfer, laptop propped on the hood of the SUV he drove, before she handed over the statue. But it never hurt to make sure you didn’t get screwed.

She’d made that mistake before, when her first international job in Berlin hadn’t gone exactly as planned. Even though she’d narrowly evaded the police, her contact had taken the jewels she’d acquired for him and vanished, leaving her high and dry. It had taken a week of cozying up to a diplomat to get back home, but she’d learned a valuable lesson. Never leave a handoff without watching the money hit your account.

Padding down the hall to the kitchen, she put coffee on, eating a banana over the sink while it dripped and hissed into the pot. When it finished, she filled a mug and took a greedy drink before adding a splash of cream and taking another, slower sip.

Leaning back against the counter, she watched the light play over the balcony as clouds flitted across the sun in the spring breeze. Today would be the perfect day to call up a couple of girlfriends for brunch and maybe some shopping. Too bad she didn’t have any.

Grabbing her bag off the edge of the counter, she carried her coffee into the office. She crossed to the desk and slid open the bottom drawer, lifting out the heavy safe she kept inside. She keyed in the code and raised the lid on a neat stack of passports and driver’s licenses—one for each state and country she’d lived in so far.

In ten years, she’d never lived in the same place twice. At least not until she’d finally given in to the pull of New York and left Prague to return to the States three months ago. Even William had been surprised to hear she was back.

Still, the restlessness she’d hoped to shake loose with the move clung on. She’d have to fix that with a visit to Will and a job more complicated than stealing trinkets from house parties.

She shuffled through the IDs, exchanging the one she had in her wallet for the one she’d been using since moving back to New York. When she moved to set the stack in the bottom of the safe, one bounced onto the table, landing face up. She picked it up, rubbing her thumb over the photo of herself, over the name.

Evelyn O’Brian. She’d left that girl and that name behind a long time ago. Placing the ID back in the box, she flipped the lid closed with a thunk and set it back in the drawer. Downing the rest of her coffee, she set the mug in the sink and retreated to her bedroom for a quick shower.

Maybe she’d treat herself to brunch and a little shopping after all. Just because she didn’t have girlfriends didn’t mean she had to live like a hermit. She preferred being alone anyway. Other than the occasional lover, she mainly kept to herself. People asked too many questions, caused too much of a distraction.

As she towel dried her hair, quickly running mousse through her curls, her phone buzzed on the counter, and she smiled.

“Hello?”

“Evie.” She could hear the smile in her mother’s voice.

“Hi, Mom.”

Evie didn’t know what had prompted her to reach out to her mother a few months ago. When she’d called to wish her a happy birthday, she’d expected to get the machine, but her mother’s soft voice, full of surprise, had answered instead. Panicked, she’d nearly hung up, but there had been no judgment in her mother’s tone, no anger.