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“Shit. Samuel Coldwater is walking this way. What if he recognizes you?”
“He won’t.”
“Fuck. We can’t take that chance. We have to—”
“Gabriel, it’s good to see you.” Samuel smiled as he held out his hand.
“Samuel. Good to see you as well.”
Samuel’s eyes diverted to me. “And may I ask whom this beautiful woman having dinner with you is?”
“This is Kate Harper. Kate, I would like you to meet Samuel Coldwater.”
“It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” I smiled as I spoke with a light southern accent.
“The pleasure is all mine, dear.”
“Are you here alone?” Gabriel asked him.
“I’m meeting a colleague for dinner. In fact, I see him right over there. It was good to see you Gabriel and a pleasure meeting you, Kate.”
I gave him a smile. He placed his hand on Gabriel’s shoulder before walking away, and Gabriel let out a sigh of relief.
“I told you he wouldn’t recognize me.”
“Let’s get out of here,” he spoke as he threw some cash for the bill on the table and we left the restaurant.
As soon as we climbed into the limo, I turned to him and spoke, “He didn’t look too broken up over Amy leaving him.”
“He was there on business, so I’m sure he’s camouflaging the pain he’s feeling inside.”
I rolled my eyes and looked out the window.
“You never answered my question,” Gabriel spoke.
“What question was that?”
“How do you find the men you do to rip off?”
“Research. The internet is a powerful tool.” I smirked.
“You’re an incredibly intelligent woman, Kate. Why waste your intelligence by doing what you do?”
I turned away. I didn’t like what I did. In fact, I hated it, but I had no choice.
“I’m not wasting my intelligence regardless of what you believe, Gabriel.”
The limo pulled up to the curb of his townhome. When we entered the house, I froze when Gabriel asked me about my father.
“Where is your father?”
I started walking up the stairs, ignoring his question because I didn’t want to talk about him. The less he knew, the better for both of us.
“Answer me!” he spoke in a harsh tone as he lightly grabbed hold of my arm.
“Let go of me!” I yelled.
“Not until you tell me about your father. Was he a con artist also? Is that why you moved around so much as a child? Did he teach you how to con people?”
