Page 9 of Cozen

“Yes. Cozen, right?”

“It is.”

“Remington,” the man said, moving closer with a hand out.

Cozen took the handshake, and then allowed him to kiss her knuckles before he dropped her hand. Normally she wouldn’t allow that kind of thing, but she was trying to simply get the details of her job at the moment, and nothing more. “The third, or the second?”

A grin lit up Remington’s face, and it spoke to his more youthful years. Before age had come in and wrote lines around his eyes, and left history on his face. She could definitely see the similarities between Fourth, and this man. Strong, square-cut jaws. Dark eyes. Black hair. She suspected he was Fourth’s father, and his next words confirmed it.

“Do I look old enough to be a second to you?” he asked, and then just as quickly added, “Actually, never mind. Don’t answer that question. I probably will not like the answer. My son gives me enough shit about my age as it is, don’t you, Fourth?”

Fourth shrugged as he dropped into a large outdoor sectional beside a quiet, old woman. Her dark eyes—matched by the father and son—looked Cozen over with little interest before she went back to petting the ball of white fur on her lap.

A Persian cat.

It did not look like a nice cat, really. In fact, when it saw that Cozen was looking at it, the Persian hissed and bared its sharp teeth.

Yikes.

“Someone has to keep you in line,” Fourth said.

The old woman had not looked away from Cozen yet. Her gaze would probably be unsettling to some, but Cozen was accustomed to people trying to figure her out. Like she was some kind of prize to be unwrapped if they could manage to get through her many layers.

“Tell me, girl,” the woman said, her wrinkles being all the more prominent as her gaze narrowed on Cozen. “Do you genuinely believe you are the best thief on this continent?”

Cozen didn’t even think about it. “I think I am one of the best, ma’am.”

“But not the best.”

“I was taught by the best. It would be incredibly rude of me to be so arrogant as to say I am better than them because they taught me. Isn’t that how it should work?”

“Grandmamma, be nice,” Remington told the woman as he slipped the cat from her lap, and put it to the ground. But not before the ball of white hell hissed and tried to bite the man on his arm. “There is a reason Ace suggested he take this job to Cozen.”

“She’ll get it done for you, Pearl,” Ace agreed. “Cozen is golden. Never had a failed job, yet.”

Wait.

This old woman was the one who called her for the job?

Seriously?

Damn.

It really did take all kinds of people to make the fucking world go around.

Fourth’s gaze slipped in Cozen’s direction, and with the narrowing of his eyes, she felt his disbelief about her presence make itself known once more. Although this time, he chose to keep it silent and not open his mouth.

Nonetheless, Cozen felt it.

She knew it.

Pearl peered up at Cozen with a slow smile. It was as though she could read Cozen’s mind, or maybe it was just the woman’s age who gave her insight to the people around her. Who knew what it was?

It was still unsettling.

“How old do you think I am, girl?” Pearl asked.

Cozen pressed her lips together. It was not nice to guess a woman’s age, and certainly not a woman whose face looked like weathered, pale leather. “I would say you have lived long enough to know it wouldn’t be appropriate for me to answer that question, Mrs. Astor.”