He was a schmuck. She was too sweet. She was too lovely. He was the asshole for not telling her the truth. He closed his eyes briefly, then opened them and tried to figure out what the hell to say. He didn’t want to ruin the job he’d been hired for, but he didn’t want to be a liar. That wasn’t the guy he was teaching his younger siblings to be. That wasn’t the man he wanted to be with a woman. He parted his lips to come clean, when she pointed to his phone.
“Can I see the picture she sent? You know, just to make sure it’s not a hideous one?”
He laughed. “Now, how could you possibly take a hideous photo?”
She tilted her head to the side and made a monster face, or maybe it was a zombie face, as she scowled and hissed. “Like that?”
He held up a hand. “Fine. Fine. That would indeed be a hideous picture, and I guarantee the one on my phone is not.”
Jake’s radar was quiet, but he still wasn’t sure if he was being played, so he kept on his armor of self-protection. But if she was being truthful, he didn’t want to blow it by treating her like an asshole. Like her ex had done.
He grabbed his phone from his pocket and cautiously swiped his finger across the screen. He clicked on the image from the text so it downloaded to his gallery, then he opened it, widening it so it spread across the screen. He turned the phone to show her. “See? No zombie monster face here. All hot. All gorgeous. Are we good?”
She studied it from her side of the table. “Hmm.”
“Hmm what?” he asked carefully.
“She got that from my website, right?”
The tiniest bit of heat spread across his cheeks as he tensed momentarily. Then he rolled the dice. “Yes,” he said, hoping to hell and heaven and back that Andrew had snagged the shot from her site.
“Ah, that is so cute that your sister looked me up for you,” she said sweetly, then in the blink of an eye, she swiped a finger across the screen, right to the last call received.
He yanked his phone back. But not in enough time. Because she’d removed her own phone from her purse and started to dial.
“Who are you calling?” he asked, his heart beating wildly with worry.
Her tone went from sweet to tough. “Just the number of the person who texted you the picture of me that’s not on my website. That’s on my personal Facebook page,” she said, then her eyes widened when she stared at her own screen.
No, gawked was the better word.
Her jaw had dropped, and she whispered, “Andrew?” when the name of his client auto-filled on her screen.
His heart fell. Shit. This was it. He was about to lose the job when Andrew found out that he’d blown his cover. Damn it to hell. He had to stop letting his too-soft heart get in the way of work.
She stabbed at her phone and ended the call. She pointed at him. Her eyes were judge and jury. “I don’t need to talk to him. I know who you are.”
“You do?”
“You’re the guy Andrew hired to find out about the money he thinks my stepdad stole. I have his number because I did a dive tour for him a few years ago, and my mom is friends with him.”
“Your mom is friends with him?” he repeated, stalling, buying time, backpedaling however he could, when the waitress arrived with a small plate with a slice of cake on it, a scoop of ice cream on top. “Your mango cake,” she said, then placed two forks next to it.
He reached for one, but Steph dropped her hand on his and squeezed when the waitress left. Her tone shifted once more, this time to a curious one. “Jake Harlowe, ’fess up. Are you the guy my stepdad’s former business partner hired to find out what happened to the money? Because I think you are, and I want the same things. The truth. I know something bad happened, and it somehow involved Eli, and I’m pretty sure it also involves—”
They both answered at the same time, “—diamonds.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
She pointed at him. He pointed at her.
“Are you working for Andrew?” he asked.
She shook her head. “I’m not working for anyone. I took this upon myself, but my mom told me Andrew hired someone, and clearly that someone seems to be you, judging from the picture on your phone of me that I highly doubt is from your sister and I’m willing to bet is from your client and my mom’s friend.”
“You appointed yourself private detective?”
She nodded. A burst of pride surged through her. She’d already tracked down some useful intel and had started putting clues together. “I did. I came down here a few days early to see what’s going on with the money. But wait. Let’s rewind. Why did you just say diamonds?”
“Because I saw one on Eli’s fiancée, and the evidence is pointing in that direction.”
Suddenly, the diamond in her safe seemed a lot hotter than it had this morning. Had her stepdad actually given her a gift from the stolen money? She’d tangoed with the possibility when she saw him, but now it seemed more plausible.
And more poisonous.
“So you and I are both trying to figure out what he’s doing with the money, and maybe if that money is in diamonds? And you have evidence?”
“I do.”
She wanted to know what he had, but something else gnawed at her brain. Something that warned her not to trust him. The part that had been burned. “Wait. You’ve lied to me so far, and now you’re here clearly trying to get closer to me because you think I know something. Is that why you’re having lunch with me today? Is that why you found me at the Pink Pelican last night?”