CHAPTER 1
ASHAFT OF SUNLIGHTwriggled its way through the east-facing window of Melissa Tanner’s bedroom and tickled her eyelashes. She twisted under the sheets, trying to eek out a few more minutes of glorious sleep. One minute, two, she didn’t care. She just wanted to float in that wonderful haze between sleep and dreams, that shadowy world where dreams dashed in and out, and where a few more minutes of bliss could be had with just a tap on the snooze button.
“Melissa?” Footsteps sounded on the stairs leading up to her room. “Melissa, you’re not going to sleep away the entire day, are you?”
She groaned, pulling the covers up over her head and wishing that one thin quilt could drown out her grandfather’s voice. She knew he didn’t mean any harm, but was it really necessary to remind her yet again that she was utterly and completely jobless?
His sharp rap on her bedroom door echoed through the room, the sound harmonizing with the sudden high-pitched squeal of her alarm clock. Anotherseven-minute snooze cycle had passed. Might as well bite the bullet and get up.
“Coming.” She tossed the word out in the general vicinity of the door, then sat up, managing in the same motion to swing her feet to the ground.
In the two months since she’d been laid off, she’d crisscrossed Orange County, submitting dozens of résumés and suffering through almost twenty job interviews. She’d had five call-back interviews, but in the end the job always went to someone else. Debts were piling up, property taxes were looming, and her checking account was nearing the two-digit mark.
Not good.
The economy was terrible, and her degree in history wasn’t exactly opening doors all over corporate America. If she didn’t get a job soon, she was going to be in big trouble. Not only were her savings almost completely gone, she had nothing to fall back on. Not money. Not job skills. Because when push came to shove, except for the one management trainee job she’d so recently lost, she really had no experience that could earn her a living.
Well, that wasn’tentirelytrue. She did have one incredibly lucrative set of skills. But cat burglary wasn’t a solid career option, and she was determined to be a solid citizen from here on out. Her life so far had been all about secrets, and she was tiredof it. Tired of not having any good friends, tired of breaking off relationships after only four dates because she was afraid of getting close. Tired of worrying about getting caught.
Just plain tired. She needed respectability. A real life. A real job.
But unless something changed pretty darn soon, she was going to end up flipping burgers at Mc-Donald’s and washing the smell of French fries out of her hair every night.
Not exactly what she’d hoped to be doing at the ripe old age of twenty-four.
No, she corrected herself. Twenty-five.Happy birthday to me. With a scowl, she pushed herself off the bed and headed toward the door.
She’d grown up with a grandfather who’d been a living, breathing Robie “The Cat.” InTo Catch A Thief, Cary Grant had ended up with Princess Grace. Well, Mel wanted her own prince, a decent job…the whole fairy-tale life. Was that too much to ask?
“Melissa Jane Tanner, if you don’t open this door right now, I’m going to keep your birthday present for myself.”
Thatgot her moving. She grabbed the knob and threw open the door. Gramps stood there, looking dapper as always in a linen suit and holding two martini glasses. “A toast,” he said, handing one toher as he stepped into the room. “To my favorite granddaughter.”
She grinned. “I’m your only granddaughter.”
“Then my fondness for you worked out quite well.”
With a little shake of her head, she followed as he headed over to perch on the edge of her bed. She took the single wooden folding chair, the only other seating in her tiny bedroom.
She held up the martini. “Let me guess, today you’re William Powell fromThe Thin Man.”
His face, still ruggedly handsome despite years of wear and tear, lit up. “You always were better at my games than your grandmother or your father.”
“The props helped,” she said, lifting the martini glass.
“I’ll have you know that’s a genuine film artifact. I was an extra inAfter the Thin Man. Even met Jimmy Stewart. He was just starting out, you know.” She did know, actually. She’d been weaned on classic movies and loved them as much as Gramps did. “My scenes may have ended up on the cutting room floor,” he continued. “But at least I got to keep the glasses.”
She squinted at the glass, examining it from all sides. “Amazing artisanship,” she teased. “But a martini for breakfast? Blech.”
“It’s your birthday. Anything goes.”
Her smile broadened. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
He waggled a finger in mock warning, but she only laughed. She adored her grandfather and would do just about anything for him.
He was, in fact, the reason that she’d kept doing the cat burglary gig for as long as she had. He’d taken care of her after her parents had died, and as he’d gotten older, it had been her turn to take care of him. The only job she’d known was what he’d taught her, and she’d used those skills to pay the bills, buy the groceries and generally keep them off the streets.
She’d been willing to use those same skills to help fund her college education—a slow process when you had to keep scrambling over rooftops for tuition money. She’d made it, though, and she’d kept the thieving to a minimum. And now that she was legit with her shiny bachelor’s degree on her wall, she didn’t intend to return to a life of crime.
