He nodded crisply. “Glad we agree.”
“We so agree,” she said through gritted teeth, and they drove to Corey’s Landing in her car. He was quiet most of the drive; then he started to speak, and she was sure he was going to admit that keeping their hands off each other was the worst idea ever.
Even though it was completely what they needed to do.
Completely.
One hundred percent.
“Hey, Steph. I saw Eli and his fiancée heading into a realtor’s office downtown today,” he said as they turned into the development and he told her about his morning. “Any chance you could try to suss out what that’s about tonight? In case it’s pertinent to the money and the diamonds and all?”
He was clearly focused on the job. She could absolutely do the same. She was Steph Anderson, determined as ever, confident, bold, and unafraid. She swam with turtles, she kissed stingrays, she tangoed with dolphins. She could focus on the mission—finding out about the missing money.
“Of course. I can absolutely do that. In fact, I did some research on Isla today,” she said, rattling off some facts, since she was not going to be one-upped in the just-work department. “Isla studied art history in college and she runs this gallery now, as you know. She’s very passionate about collecting modern art, and she’s also a generous supporter of the charitable arm of that diamond mine,” Steph said crisply, sliding into her businesswoman mind-set as she parked the car at the end of the road.
“That’s an unusual combo.”
“Maybe she just likes the finer things in life,” she mused, then took a beat and looked at him curiously, then returned her eyes to the road. “Why did we need to meet up before this dinner party? You’re not going in. I am. Can’t I just find you afterward and tell you what I learned?”
“I told you I’d wait for you in case anything comes up,” he said in a cool, even tone. “But don’t worry. I know how to lie low. I’ll be hiding in the rosebushes, since there’s no trellis.”
“No. I’m serious, Jake.”
He sighed. “I just wanted to be here in case anything comes up. That’s all. It’s good for us to do things together.”
“But you followed him this morning without me. I looked up the website without you. We don’t have to do everything together,” she said as she pulled to a stop in the parking lot at the development. She stared at him through narrowed eyes.
He dragged a hand through his hair. “What are you saying, Steph?”
“I’m saying I think you’re babysitting me because you don’t trust me.”
“Are we really going back there again?”
“I don’t think we ever got past there.”
“No, I’m pretty sure I did, and you’re the one who said you didn’t trust me.”
“But now it turns out you don’t trust me, either.”
“I just want to be here for you after the dinner.”
“That hardly seems necessary. But enjoy waiting for me,” she said, tapping the steering wheel. “Don’t steal my car.”
“Steph,” he said. “That’s not fair. I’m not going to steal your car.”
As she opened the door, she tossed him the keys. “It’s fine if you do. It’s a rental, and it’s insured. You really don’t have to wait for me.”
He stretched across the seat to grab her arm, wrapping his fingers tightly around her wrist. It felt possessive, and better than it should. The little hairs on her arm stood on end. “Steph,” he said softly. “You look gorgeous tonight.”
Her heart thumped. She gave it a mental swat, staying strong. “Flattery will get you nowhere.”
“You make it really hard to focus on just working with you. But I know that’s what you want, so I’m trying to make it easy for you. And I’m trying to make this whole thing easy for you because I can’t imagine how hard it is doing what you’re doing, and trying to make things right for your mom. So I’ll be here, waiting.”
She softened a bit. Reminded herself why she was walking into her semi-estranged stepfather’s home. To do something she didn’t ordinarily do. Spy. Snoop. Play Nancy Drew. Her mom might act as if she was all fine with the royal screw in the divorce, but there was no way that was true. Steph had a chance to right a wrong.
Besides, she wasn’t stealing. She was merely casing the joint.
She laughed to herself. Now she was using regular old lingo. Like a pro.
Perfect. She was safe and sound inside the house.
Jake had no intention of waiting in the car. He had business to take care of and he didn’t want her to know what it was. If she knew what he was up to, she might act nervous. Flinch when she heard a sound. Listen for every creak in the floorboards.
She needed to walk through the door without a clue.
She was wrong about one thing, though. He trusted her. But the less she knew, the greater chance that he could pull it off as she unknowingly provided his cover.
“You’re here!”
Her voice was like honey and whiskey, and her body had been carved by artist’s hands.
Steph walked into a full-on embrace from the model-esque Isla. The woman looped her arms around her like she was her long-lost relative.
“Hi,” Steph said, as if the word itself were new to her, and it sounded that way on her tongue.
Isla was tall, toned, tan, and trim. The four Ts. Stunning, too, and that irked Steph. Perhaps because it was so cliché, and for once she wished her stepfather would stop trafficking in clichés. Like this picturesque mini mansion perched on the edge of the water. Like his taste for showy jewelry. Like his predilection for affairs. Frustration coiled inside her, a gnawing wish that he could be the Eli she knew—the father who cared, not the man who’d hurt her mom.