Page 4 of Stealing Blinds

Shit.

I smack my back pocket. “You swiped my wallet?”

Spellbound into becoming a chump. I’m never off my game enough to be the object of a con.

“You swiped my mask.” The pretty little thief spins, walking backward, her whole face glowing from the full moon and her victory. “Trade ya.”

We’re on the outskirts of the crowd, still within yelling distance, but she shouldn’t take risks like this. What if I were a creep? There are plenty out tonight. Being a daredevil is obviously in her blood since she’s goading me a block from the site of her robbery with several dozen cops patrolling this area alone. And lecturing her will not bode well for me as far as gaining her number or my wallet, so I skip it. For now.

“Let’s settle this civilly. You’ll give me your name since you have mine. Then we’ll swap items.”

“No.” She hums, teasing payback, as she launches herself into a string of back handsprings that lands her at the mouth of the alley, leading to the museum. “We do this my way, or your wallet gets dropped at the scene.”

Swindling and blackmail.

Dear fuck, I might be in love.

“Fine. Your way, but I have another proposition.” I cup my hand to beckon her back to me while moving myself into full view of the streetlights and the crowd, in case she did those back handsprings as a precaution to keep distance between us.

She saunters closer, haughty and unaffected. There’s no way she’s giving in to me tonight, nor should she since her fine ass and a hundred grand are on the line. But I get another flicker of familiarity, which spurs me on. I’ve seen this girl before. If part of her face wasn’t covered by that mask, I’d likely know where.

“How about this?” I keep my voice low and lead her back to the heart of the ruckus. “We’ll swap. But if I figure out your name, you owe me the honor of buying you dinner the next time I see you.”

She pauses, probably assessing whether I could have snatched something that would divulge that information, though it’s unlikely she has anything identifiable on her while working a heist. With that realization, I’m hit with a sudden notion of her truly not being interested.

Nah. Must be the bad timing.

“Sure.” She holds out her empty palm while her other hand clutches my open wallet so it’s clear the contents are still there.

My stomach is slightly queasy. I know the second we trade, she’ll be gone, but I’m thirty-two, and I have never been hung up on a girl, so this shouldn’t be any different. Besides, there’s that whisper of remembrance inside me. And I covertly snapped a picture of her as she was wandering back from the alleyway. I can figure out who she is. If I decide I want to.

Still, it couldn’t hurt to stack my odds. “You should write your name and number on a dollar bill and buy something with it. If it gets back to me, you won’t be able to deny that we’re destined.”

Her lips pop open with an indignant gasp. “Did you just Serendipity me?”

“That’s not a verb.”

“It’s also not an option.” She blows out a breath like she’s embarrassed for me. “And it’s kind of desperate. Not a good look, blondie.”

Desperate is a fair assessment, which is not at all my take-it-or-leave-it style. I watched that movie with my younger sister, Rena, ages ago, so who the hell knows why it sprang to mind tonight? But most games have some dead hands. I can turn this around.

“Fear isn’t either. Fate is the opposite of desperation. It’s letting the chips fall where they may.” I shove my hands in my pockets and furrow my brows at the lunacy of her reproach. “Are you afraid to let destiny play this hand?”

“No fate or fear here. Just two cons making a deal. Pass it over.”

I don’t hate that either. One deal often leads to another. And I wouldn’t mind staring into those amber eyes again. Maybe from a different vantage point.

“Don’t blame me when you’re kicking yourself, thinking, If only I’d written my number on that damn dollar bill.”

She tries to conceal it, but her mouth twitches with a hint of mirth as she waggles her palm. “We’ve already established that I’m a risk-taker. I’ll chance it.”

Reluctantly, I remove the mask and place it in her small hand as she tosses the wallet to me.

And then she’s off. “Have a nice life, Noire.”

Against my better judgment, I can’t help uttering a vow. “See ya soon.”

CASH