Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 102071 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 510(@200wpm)___ 408(@250wpm)___ 340(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102071 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 510(@200wpm)___ 408(@250wpm)___ 340(@300wpm)
I gestured her closer so I wouldn’t have to shout. “Did you see much traffic from the reception at Willow’s Island Gallery last night?”
“You still trying to sell that Renoir?” she asked with a wink and a grin.
“Yeah, I have a confession: I don’t actually own a Renoir.”
She put her hands on her hips. “Next you’re going to tell me you’re not really a fisherman.”
“No, I really am a fisherman,” I assured her in the same bantering tone.
“Oh, then you’re not trying to find out who was at the gallery that night?” Maris asked, as she replaced customers’ empty beer bottles with full ones. “You don’t want to know if any of those snooty art lovers deigned to stop in The Pink Pelican after their wine and aperitifs?”
I spread my hands in a you got me shrug. “You see right through me, Maris.”
“I’m guessing this is because the gallery owner’s pendant got stolen?”
“Is there talk about it on the street?” Ruby asked, chiming in.
I perked up too, leaned forward, hungry for rumors going around the shops and clubs near Willow’s gallery.
“All I know is after the party, a couple of people came over for something stronger than rosé, and they were talking about how the diamond had disappeared from around the woman’s neck in the middle of the reception.”
“Who were they?” I asked.
“The manager of the gallery, a waitress from the nightclub down the street, and,” she said, taking a beat to give a sly grin—I wasn’t sure why she did that, but then she added— “A very sexy guy with a snake tattoo.”
A new customer sidled up to the bar and raised a few fingers, eager to order.
“Need to run,” Maris said, and blew us a kiss as she returned to work. “Come back soon.” Then she stopped, backed up a few steps, and leaned across the counter toward us. “You two make an adorable couple. You know that, right?”
Ruby blushed, and I put on a stoic face to hide the grin I felt inside.
As we left, Ruby squeezed my arm. “Snake tattoo,” she whispered when we reached the sidewalk. “The manager at the nightclub.”
That jogged my memory. I’d seen the guy in Eli’s office at the nightclub the other night. Had he been there legitimately? Or had he been poking around? “Think he’s our Mr. Smith?”
Ruby’s eyes sparkled with mystery-solving excitement as she connected clues. “He knows Eli. He’d probably know Eli had some diamonds. He certainly knew Willow had one. What if he took it last night at the party? Maybe he has a bone to pick with Eli.” She grabbed my arm, clutching me tightly. “Jake,” she whispered. “I saw him at Happy Turtle a few days ago. He was sunbathing and looked like he was asleep. But what if he was…”
“Following you?”
Her face turned whiter than it had been the moment before.
I pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I’ll keep you safe, sweetheart,” I said, meaning it with every fiber of my being. “And we’ll keep our eyes peeled for him. You’re seeing Eli tomorrow, right?”
She nodded as a night breeze drifted by, swirling the hem of her skirt. “I am. I’ll see what I can find out. I have an idea for how to pull off the next phase of our plan.”
On the way back to the hotel, we plotted the next day, and everything, every damn thing, about this walk and this talk felt right. We were in this together, chasing the same prize, working as a team. As we headed through the front doors of the hotel, I dropped a kiss onto her cheek. “So much better to work with you than against you,” I said.
“I can think of other things you can do against me though,” she said, wiggling her eyebrows.
I groaned, tightening my arm around her shoulders. My hotel was bigger than hers, with an open, airy lobby and sleek floors. Music drifted from the busy bar. Ruby glanced toward the live band playing there. Her gaze paused on a woman with jet-black hair, perched on a barstool.
“Oh my god, that’s Monica from the sex-toy party,” Ruby said in a choked whisper.
Wait. I stopped in my tracks. “Did you say Monica?” I asked, but I was already glancing her way. Holy shit. That was her at the bar, holding a drink, chatting with another woman, laughing.
That was the same woman from the diamond shop.
This island was seriously small.
“Do you know her?” Ruby asked.
“She works at a diamond shop,” I said.
“And sells sex toys,” Ruby said with a crease in her brow. Then she shrugged. “But who doesn’t have a side hustle these days?”
“Fair point,” I said, and peered one more time at her. But the woman was simply having a good time with a friend. Nothing more.
Ruby quickly grabbed my arm and tugged me toward the elevators. “I don’t want her to see me and start a conversation about ten-carat butt plugs.”