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He looks like he could use a visit to a barber and some sleep.

The man manages other people’s fortunes and as long as I’ve known him, his job is his life.

He’s on call twenty-four seven for all of his clients. I count myself among them.

We started as friends back in college and when I tasted success, it was Jack I turned to for guidance. He keeps my finances healthy so I can focus on building my career.

“I read your text.” He shakes his head as he surveys the packed dance floor. “Let me get the facts straight.”

I take a pull of the beer, knowing that he’s going to offer advice I haven’t asked for.

“You met a woman at this club last night. You took her home and fucked her. When you dozed off she left without her panties, but not before she helped herself to a baseball jersey you left in plain sight.”

I tip my bottle of beer in the air. “That sums it up.”

His gaze darts from the dance floor back to me. We’re in a private VIP area that Jack has access to. Last night I was on my own. I knew what I wanted so my time spent in the club was limited to just shy of thirty minutes.

That’s all it took for me to find a willing, unattached blonde.

“I take it the police aren’t working hard on the case?”

“I see no reason to involve them.” I wave away the idea with a brush of my hand in the air.

He lets out a laugh. “It’s their job.”

“I’m not saying that something like this would draw the interest of the press, Jack.” I take a drink. “It’s a stolen baseball jersey, not a Rolex, but I don’t want any unnecessary publicity before…”

“Before you take the stage next month?” He arches a dark brow. “I get it. You’re trying to keep a low profile.”

I pause. “Chances are the jersey will show up on an online auction site or at a pawn shop. I don’t have time to hunt it down. I’m here tonight to see if the woman I took home last night shows. If she does, I’ll convince her to give it back if she still has it.”

“Or she’ll convince you to buy it back for the right price.” He looks over at the dance floor again. “Give me a description of her.”

“She’s in her early thirties, maybe five-foot-four or five, blonde hair halfway down her back, brown eyes.” I close my eyes in an attempt to stir my memory. “She has a tattoo on her left wrist. I think it’s an arrow.”

“I can work with that.” He pushes up from the bar stool and buttons his suit jacket. “Let’s divide and conquer. If your little thief is here, we’ll find her.”

Chapter 4

Olivia

I step into my cousin Trey’s loft and freeze.

I saw this place when he first bought it a year ago. Back then it was one big space with exposed brick walls and overhead wooden beams.

When he came over to my apartment one Saturday afternoon during the off-season, I forced him to watch a marathon of home improvement and design shows with me in the hope that he’d get inspired and transform his empty loft into a home.

He did.

The loft now has defined areas, including a massive chef’s kitchen, a living room with a gas fireplace and what I presume to be a large master suite down a wide hallway.

It’s decorated tastefully in earthy masculine tones, unlike the

eclectic mix of antique and thrift store finds that I’ve furnished my apartment with.

“You’re here.” Trey shuts the door behind me. “How’s my favorite cousin?”

I sigh when he pulls me into a tight embrace.

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