“Into his nightclub in the Caymans?”
“Supposedly. They might send someone down there to look into it. Hey! I have an idea!” Her mom lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Can you lift his Rolex if you happen to see him next time you’re there?”
Steph laughed and draped an arm around her mom’s shoulder. “Gladly. He loves that stupid Rolex. If you teach me how to pickpocket, Mom, I’ll bring that watch back for you, no questions asked.” Steph grabbed her purse and slung it on her shoulder. “Actually,” she said as an idea took hold. “I’m going there for a tour this week.”
Her mom laughed as she set down her emptied drink. “You don’t have to steal his watch, sweetie.”
“No, but maybe I can find out a little bit more about the club and the money. I haven’t been there in several months, since the last time I saw him, but I still know a ton of people. I’ll ask around.”
Steph’s mom shot her a stern stare. “Focus on your tour. Not him. Besides, enough about him. Talking about my ex too much is bad for my chakra,” her mother said, tapping her heart. “That’s what my yoga guru would say. I need to focus on the path in front of me,” she said, pointing into the distance, as if to prove that she wasn’t caught up in the past. “Not the douchenozzle in my past who tried to bleed every last penny from me.” Her mother clasped her hand over her mouth. “I’m sorry,” she said, dropping her hand. “I shouldn’t talk about your stepdad that way.”
“It’s OK. Sometimes you have to unleash the anti-chakra sentiments,” Steph said with a grin. She may not want to believe Eli could do something so terrible, but she’d never fault her mom for a little smack talk against the man who broke her heart.
Her mom shook her head. “Nope. I need to be a better person. Holding on to the past interferes with my prana. Or something like that.”
“Yeah. Something like that indeed,” Steph muttered, or maybe the prana needed someone to run interference.
For far too long, Steph wasn’t able to do a damn thing about her stepdad’s straying ways. She couldn’t stop his wandering, of course, and she couldn’t make him a better husband, nor could she convince him to play fair in the divorce, though she’d tried, begging him at times to back down. He was like a different person, though, when it came to matters of the heart, and it cut her to the core to see how the same man who’d taught her how to swim, how to multiply fractions, and how to change the tire on a car had turned a deaf ear to her when it came to her pleas about the divorce.
She’d seen her mom give everything for love—her heart, her time, and her money, since she’d given him the funds he needed to start his firm many years ago. The money was a gift; her mom had wanted to help make his dreams come true.
For him to turn around and battle so coldly to keep everything when they split had hollowed out Steph’s insides.
Her chest burned with frustration over how he’d hurt the one person he was supposed to adore, then took her for everything he could get his hands on. Fine, both Eli and her mom had said their feelings for Steph and Robert were totally separate from their marriage, and perhaps that was true. But it was also true that even a happy family could fall apart, and that was just more proof to her that her mother was right—all men were trouble.
After she said good-bye and led a sunset dive that her customers said was one of their Miami vacation highlights—a sentiment that warmed her heart—Steph changed her flight to the Caymans. A few extra days on the front end, and she’d use that time to do some digging.
It might be a long shot, but maybe, just maybe, Eli hadn’t stolen to start his club. Maybe some shred of the man she loved like a father still existed and this was some sort of misunderstanding. Money matters were complicated, after all.
And if he had taken what wasn’t his, perhaps he’d respond to a logical, polite, heartfelt plea to do the right thing. Especially if she was the one to deliver that plea. She’d been his soft spot growing up. Maybe she still could be now.
But if it turned out he’d taken what wasn’t his, then she’d kick this damn hope to the curb and fight like hell to get her mother’s money back.
Because you just can’t let the bastards get away with everything.
CHAPTER THREE
Art, a tropical island, and some bad chocolate. That’s what Jake’s next gig was all about.
Crying shame, since chocolate should only be good.
“Let me get this straight. You think Eli put the stolen money from chocolate investments gone wrong into art, and took that art out of the country?”
His client nodded. “It’s easier to move art than money.”
Jake scratched his chin. “Another question. Chocolate is an actual investment? Should I be buying up Godiva now? Scharffen Berger?” Jake arched an eyebrow as he took off his shades. He looked Andrew in the eyes as the sun cast golden rays on the Key Largo boardwalk. Andrew had driven down from Miami where he was based and hadn’t even balked when Jake moved the location of their meeting from his office to the boardwalk at midday. The gray-haired man was dressed in slacks and a button-down. Jake was dressed for a dip in the water with his nephew when they were done.
“Cocoa beans are a commodity,” Andrew said, wiping a big paw across his sweaty forehead. He had a manila envelope tucked under his arm. “Apparently, cocoa beans are the new coconuts. Or so we thought.”