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From out of nowhere a pang struck Genevieve’s heart. That kind of all-consuming love looked blissful on her friend and if she were honest, Genevieve wanted that, too. A partner in crime, someone to bounce story ideas off over long walks under the stars and eat ice cream with at three in the morning just because. And have wild sex under the stars like they used to do.
Stacey refilled their glasses. “So, not that I’m objecting to booze at noon and girl time in the middle of the week, but what’s up? How can we help?”
Genevieve didn’t hold back the punches. “I need a dog sitter and an alibi. And which one of you knows anything about how to pick locks?”
CHAPTER SIX
Genevieve slipped the lock back into place behind her, taking one step then another deeper into Whiskey’s office. Everyone had left hours ago and just as she’d planned, Whiskey was off waiting for her at a restaurant fifteen minutes away.
Genevieve would do anything to save Blossoms and protect the town she grew up in. Hopefully, it didn’t mean going to jail though.
Moonlight shone through the open curtains yet she still managed to catch a hip against a corner table, rattling a set of decanters. Crap. That’s all she needed. Spill the man’s liquorandsteal his work.
Desk to the left, large table to her right. And that is where she was headed.
As it turned out she didn’t need to pick any locks to pull off her snatch and grab. Venus helped Whiskey’s secretary rekindle the love with her husband a few months back with a special gift basket. Apparently, the hot sex was so far off the charts shecouldn’t wait to repay the favor and had no problem handing over the keys to Town Hall once she heard Genevieve’s plan. Maybe it was shady as fuck, but she would take it, and as long as I returned the keys before morning no one would be the wiser.
She navigated through the darkness with the help of the light from her phone. Easing up to the windows she carefully closed the curtains one by one.
Satisfied no one could look in from surrounding building and witness her crime she flicked her flashlight on and set to work.
Cocky bastard left the blueprints right where she’d last seen them. Looking them over another wave of anger flooded through her as she looked at the ice rink that Blossoms would become.
“Rat bastard,” she muttered and clicked several pictures of the blueprints. One by one she snapped shots.
Just a few more and she could get out of here. She rolled back what looked like something with an entirely different layout than the other prints. In the left-hand corner in bold block letters read MORGAN CITY FAIR.
“What the –”
She nearly dropped her phone as she flung back sheet after sheet of new ideas that apparently involved renaming her beloved Pinegrove town.
To what? “Morgan City, my ass!”
“What the ever-loving hell am I looking at?” She cranked her light a notch brighter. “A theme park in the middle of town square? You’re kidding,” she grumbled into the darkness.
Did Whiskey not remember all the wonderful Christmas festivities they had shared there each year? The freaking man had lost his marbles. He said he remembered everything but he had to be lying. Why else would anyone want to erase such wonderful memories with whatever the hellthiswas going to be? A monstrosity she finally landed on. A terrible, ugly nightmare that would turn this quaint little town into something unrecognizable.
A deep, burning determination took hold. “Not on my life.”
She snapped pictures, loaded them to her cloud.
“You know what…no.” She had a better idea. A devious, low-down, wonderful idea.
She took out her phone and sent out a quick message to the girls waiting back at the flower shop.
“Side alley. Two minutes.”
Taking the edge of the blueprints, she rolled up all the plans and secured them in one of those tube canisters the architect must have used to deliver them to Whiskey in the first place. While she was at it, Genevieve grabbed the water-stained prints with the plan for her parent’s building too. She inched over to a large wooden-framed window that dropped straight down into a side alley and cranked it open.
“You there?” she whispered gruffly into the night, hanging halfway out the window with her loot dangling from a nylon strap three floors up.
Venus and Stacey both stepped out of the shadows both looking like Charlie’s Angels, hand to God. Any other time and she would laugh at how ludicrous this all looked.
“Step back.” She dropped the plans into a pile of trash bags. “I’ll call later.”
With that Genevieve watched as the girls retrieved the package before speeding away in the direction of Venus’ sex shop.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
