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A mix of emotions stir within me upon seeing him. On one hand, there is trepidation because I don’t know what he’s going to ask of me. Could this be the one task I can’t complete and they come after me for it? Or what if I get caught in the process and imprisoned? Or maybe this is just the thing I need to pay for Mitch-bitch’s housing.
Letting out a deep breath, I march over to him and climb onto the vacant barstool opposite him. He doesn’t acknowledge my presence. Instead, he motions to someone at the bar, who hurries over with my favorite drink—a strawberry daiquiri.
Now, I know what you’re thinking—could there possibly be a drink any less badass than that? But it’s so damn good, I don’t care. It even has a little beach umbrella stuck into it, and I happily take a long sip from the straw.
The fence carefully observes the crowd gathered around us, ensuring we’re not being watched before finally breaking the silence between us. “I have a job for you.” Even his voice is easy to forget, smooth and level. No accent, not deep or high, just boring.
I nod, taking another cold, fruity pull of my drink. “I figured as much.”
His eyes remain on the crowd as he rolls his glass in his fingers. “Are you familiar with the jewelry store on Washington Street?”
“I’ve passed by a time or two.”
He turns his dark gaze on me, and my heartbeat quickens. “Tomorrow they are getting a delivery. Included in that shipment is a set of teardrop diamonds in the Ensnared Collection. Earrings, necklace, and a bracelet. You are to steal the entire set.”
The entire set?
I could steal a piece, maybe even two, but the whole thing is all but impossible. I take a breath to reply, but he holds up his hand, stopping the words before I can say them.
“There is no room to argue this time. The directions given to me were specific. Be at the jewelers by noon when they open so you are one of the first inside. The store will be crowded as those in the know are aware of the shipment arriving and its contents. Steal this set, and you will be rewarded handsomely.”
I chew on the straw, mulling it over. “How much are we talking?”
“Ten thousand dollars,” he says, as if it’s the most menial amount of money ever, as I’m choking on my daiquiri.
I must not have heard him right. “Can you repeat that?”
“No. You heard correctly the first time.” The fence downs his brandy in one final gulp, exhaling loudly afterwards. “Tomorrow. Noon. Don’t be late.” He lowers himself from the stool and buttons his jacket, then straightens his tie. “The transfer will take place immediately after. Look for a black limousine parked outside. The back door will be open for you.”
Tossing a ten-dollar bill onto the table, he turns and leaves.
Ten thousand dollars…
Not only will that pay for the last two months of Mitch-bitch’s housing, but it will fill my pantry, give me back electricity, and allow me to purchase some new clothes from the secondhand store.
I can hardly contain my excitement, but there’s also apprehension stewing inside of me. Never have I been asked to perform such a difficult lift before, and I don’t know if I can do it.
Snatching the ten-dollar bill from the table, I tuck it into my back pocket and hop down from the stool. The people inside the bar are getting drunker and more obnoxious by the minute, and now the costume contest is about to begin.
Shoving my way through the crowd as a couple dressed as Frankenstein and his bride earn the loudest cheers, I head for the door and rush outside. Pulling my hood down over my hair, I jam my hands into the pocket of my hoodie and quicken my pace, anxious to get home. Lucky for me, the path I take back home is vacant. Even the pimps and drug dealers don’t perch outside in the cold.
Mischief greets me with a wagging tail, his tongue lolling out of his mouth. I reach down to pet him, then head right for bed. The only time I can clear my mind is when I sleep, and tomorrow is a big day. I don’t even bother to change, I just flop right down on my bed, my dog tucked up next to my belly, and fall fast asleep.
* * *
Today is the day.
I’m so nervous, I think I might shit my pants. Using the stolen tip money, I went to the dollar store this morning and purchased red lipstick and nail polish, curl-enhancing mousse, dog food, and a bottle of cheap perfume.
I’ve never welcomed a cold shower as much as I did earlier, the chill in the water forcing me to think of something other than the bubble guts churning inside my stomach. I even shaved with a flimsy disposable razor, that’s how important blending in today will be.
Taking care, I scrunch my hair until it dries, accentuating my long, black curls before polishing my nails. Grabbing my old makeup bag, I slide open the zipper and sift through it. All of my eyeshadow has been long used up, but I take the brush I used solely for grays and blacks and paint it across my lids. I smile happily when I see there was enough left on the brush to give me a subtle, smoky look.
Filtering through all the old mascaras, I open each one until I find a tube that hasn’t turned to paste. Adding a single drop of water to the bottle, I shake it up until it liquefies again and apply it. It does the trick, making my lashes longer and thicker. Finally, I cover my lips in the sultry red lipstick then rub them together.
My knees almost buckle on my way to my closet. My hands are clammy and shaky as I pull the red dress off the hanger and lay it on my bed. I strip off my tank top and pajama pants and don the sexy set of red lingerie I bought at the secondhand store for the first time.
I have to admit, wearing the matching bra and panties makes me feel more like a woman than I ever have. Too bad no one can appreciate them but Mischief, who’d rather be sniffing his own ass.
