Chapter 20
Amy lay flat on her living room floor, feet propped on the stone mantel of her fireplace. Since overhearing the call at the auto shop, she hadn’t solicited Jace for further details. Instead, she’d forced herself to do what she had to do: stock shelves. Check out customers. And avoid eye contact with Jace.
That last part seemed most important of all. The truth was, Amy had overheard a lot of disturbing details. They targeted her —not because she was desirable by any means—but because she had ties to the person they were really after. Of course, that was a relief in one sense. But it was so quickly followed up with words that fed the flames of insecurity in her heart.
Mr. P so easily assumed that Jace was only pretending to be her boyfriend. Hearing it aloud, knowing Jace and his entire team were listening, made Amy feel like the butt of a very cruel joke. The mental anguish of that aspect alone was nearly crippling.
Because it was entirely out of her hands.
The sting op could be a major success, they could take down Mr. P and his entire ring, making a massive dent in the monstrous industry. And that would be wonderful. In fact, it should be enough. It was the bigger picture.
But that didn’t mean there wasn’t a heart at the center of something smaller on the broad scale of things, yet life-altering for Amy. And that was Jace Burns. A man who she’d fallen in love with. A man she dreamed of spending the rest of her life with. A man who could very well head right back to California when this was all said and done.
She clenched her eyes shut and fought the quiver of her bottom lip as hot tears slipped past her temples and into her hair. She felt awful for being so selfish. Let us accomplish this mission. Let us put these guys away. Help me stop focusing on me and Jace.
“Mind if I join you?”
Amy sniffed and blinked open her eyes. Hovering over her, with the flickering flames from the fire dancing over his skin, Jace smiled down at her.
“Okay,” she said softly.
Jace grunted as he positioned himself on the floor. He tapped the screen of his phone until music filled the space, then placed it on the floor beside them. It took her a moment to realize what he had in mind, but the notepad and pencil in his hand explained it—he wanted to ‘talk’ without being heard.
He didn’t start the conversation right away. Instead, he lined himself up beside her, feet resting on the mantel, and nuzzled his neck along her head. She breathed in the spicy smell of his aftershave, then synced her breathing with his. Like they’d done during the yoga class. In and out. Her muscles melted. Being close to Jace was the best medicine she’d known.
At last he pressed a kiss to her head, lifted the notebook, and scribbled onto it.I feel good about this.He handed it over.
Amy nodded, debating whether or not she wanted to probe for more. To ask about what she’d missed.Good,she wrote. Then added,Have you been drawing up your analysis in there? Wait, what’s the plural word for analysis, anyway—analysi?
Jace chuckled under his breath.Analyses is the plural word for it.And yes, that’s exactly what I’ve been doing.
Amy liked knowing him so well. Being able to predict what he was doing and when. She took the notebook and scribbled on it once moreSo let’s hear it. I give you a scenario, and you tell me what percentage we’re looking at. Our chances of throwing a pie in Mr. P’s face.
Jace slippedthe pencil from her fingers and wrote while Amy held it.Did you make an actual pie?
Amy shook her head no.
Jace scribbled an answer.Thirty-three percent.
A smile tugged at the corner of her lip as Amy wrote out another one.Okay. What about… our chances of Mr. P having a change of heart overnight and turning himself and his entire ring over to the cops by morning.
He smiled now as he took the pencil.A quarter of one percent.He shook his head and crossed that out.No,he wrote,let’s say three quarters of one percent. May as well be optimistic.
Amy giggled. She couldn’t help it. Jace was just so easy to talk to and laugh with and fall head over heels for. An ache seeped into her chest at the thought.
He held her gaze for a moment, then added a single word onto the page.Tuesday.
“What?” Amy mouthed.
Jace wrote again.That’s when the sting op is going down at a place he owns called The Rough Diamond Spa. Mr. Volkoff and his team, aka Maddox and my team, will meet him there.
That left one very obvious question. Amy snatched the pencil.And what makes them think we’re going to show up?she wrote, though half of her brain was stuck on the idea that this would happen in some place of business downtown. It was all so bizarre.
Sponsorship with the studio.
A hot sting of panic sparked in her chest. Mr. P must have arranged for her to sponsor the spa. Which meant she had to try it out for herself.
The endorsement focuses on couples’ day at the spa,Jace indicated.They’ll send an invite for Tuesday.
