Page 101 of Cozen

Especially considering the Astors wanted it back. Not to mention, how Jett had taunted the Astors with the ring by having some floozy chick wear it to an event. No doubt, he was absolutely keeping the ring locked up, and safe.

She didn’t like to take risks that might expose her, but she was kind of running out of time here. This job needed to get done already, and she was starting to think she might have to take more risks just to get back in front of that safe again.

Cozen went back to her plans for a moment—her bread and butter of this whole goddamn thing. This heist was made impossibly more difficult by the fact that the thing she needed to steal had not yet been in her sights.

The ring, that was.

She suspected she knew where it was, but that wasn’t a certainty. And an almost certainty was not entirely good enough for her, but it was all she had to go on at the moment. Since this was the first time a job left her without every piece of knowledge about the mark in question, she had to do what she had to do. Whatever it took to get this done.

Her hope was that it would all be far easier than any of this—the ring would be in the safe, most likely, and she could open it with the program she developed with a friend.

Shit was never that easy, though.

Still … Cozen hoped.

For now, though, her phone buzzed. A reminder popped up on the screen as she slid it closer to be able to see it. Her mind was so super focused on finishing this job that other things were sometimes falling to the wayside on her.

Hence the need for reminders.

Like this one.

She had to work today.

The act had to be kept up.

Joy.

“Zen, I’m going to need you behind the bar for the rest of the shift,” Chase said as he strolled on past Cozen. Like he hadn’t just dropped that bomb on her, or something.

“Wait, what?”

“You heard me.”

“I can’t mix The Kingdom’s specialty drinks,” she said.

Chase was already gone. He didn’t even hear Cozen’s refusal.

Fuck.

“Um, do you need a moment, miss?”

“Yeah, we’re okay here,” the guy’s wife said.

The people she was supposed to be serving.

Cozen gave the couple at the table an apologetic look, and waved at another one of the servers to come and help. Once she was free, she darted after Chase to find out what cold hell she had slipped into.

A beer, or a specific wine was one thing. Cozen—and most of the other servers—were fully capable of pouring a drink like that. They usually did just to make things a little easier on Marissa because she was typically busy enough.

But working the whole bar?

Entirely different.

Cozen found Chase in his back office. A place he rarely left unless it was to bark orders in the kitchen, or to meet a particular diner on the floor. He didn’t own the restaurant; he simply managed it. He sure liked to pretend differently, though.

“Didn’t you hear me?” Cozen asked.

Chase opened his laptop, and passed her a look over the screen. “Hear what? I thought I told you to get behind the bar. Marissa wasn’t feeling well, and had to go home. I don’t need her puking in someone’s glass of wine. The girl who usually takes her place isn’t answering her phone, and the dinner rush is coming.”