“Come on, Quin. You know this.”
“Right! You’ll knock over a water glass.”
“I’ll knock over a water glass,” Lacy reaffirmed calmly, “and then we’ll both leave. It’s as simple as that. You could do it in your sleep.”
“Right,” Quin said again, nodding with more confidence. “You’re right—I’ve got this.”
“Hey Quin?”
“Yeah?”
“...did you remember to charge the camera?”
Five minutes and a furious reprimand later, both women walked into the dim lighting of the restaurant—cool and collected.
“Good luck,” she whispered, as the two of them split off in separate directions.
Lacy flashed her a smile.
Quin settled herself on the far side of the establishment, while Lacy walked up to the hostess—a picture of innocence.
“Hi, my name’s Samantha Cregg. I’m here meeting Mr. Harmon.”
The woman scanned down her list, before brightening with a gracious smile. “Ah yes! Mr. Harmon. I’ve actually already seated him. Right this way.”
Mr. Harmon, huh? The guy actually had the nerve to use his real name.
But as Lacy was quick to discover, the man’s boldness didn’t stop there. Instead of choosing a table in the back, as most of their secretive marks tended to do, he had picked one right in the center of the front window—a prime spot looking out over the entire city.
She had never seen a picture, Quin had conveniently forgotten to retrieve the photo she’d downloaded from his dating profile, but a tall man stood up the second she walked into view. A man with a smile so broad and greasy, she felt dirty just looking at it.
“You must be Samantha.” He took off her jacket without even asking, sliding it down her slender arms and giving a low appreciative whistle at the dress beneath. “You do not disappoint.”
Oh—this is going to be fun.
Lacy settled into her chair with a smile. “Well that’s the whole point, isn’t it?” she replied coyly. “To see if the face lives up to the picture?”
“Absolutely!” He flashed her a seductive grin, then snapped rudely for the waitress. “Hey honey—we’ll take a bottle of your most expensive red.” His entire expression changed, as he turned quickly back to Lacy. “You like wine, don’t you?”
“The more the merrier.”
Her eyes swept over him, taking in every singl
e detail. Spray tan—which left a smudge of whiter skin behind the ears. Expensive suit, but well worn—he had done this sort of thing before. And no wedding ring—although there was a pale circle around his finger.
She wondered where he kept it when he went out. In his wallet?
“So—Samantha.” He elongated her name in a way that he clearly thought to be quite suave. “Tell me something about yourself.”
First rule: Spend none of your own money.
Second rule: Keep the spotlight off yourself.
“Where’s the fun in that?” Lacy grinned, picking up her crystal goblet and taking a dainty sip. “I’d rather hear more about you. Your profile didn’t say much. How is it that a good-looking man such as yourself has managed to stay single all this time?”
She said it with a mischievous purr, then listened attentively for the response. Somewhere across the room, Quin was no doubt snapping pictures, but Lacy wanted to get a little information out of the guy first. It was the least she could do for his wife.
Brad squirmed a little in his chair, but countered it immediately with another greasy smile. “I guess you could say I’m still looking. Just haven’t found the perfect fit.”