Jackass.
Clearly he was trying to get under my skin. And for some reason I was having a hard time remembering that. The man was a manipulator. He played people like chess pieces. He was so used to using his looks and charm to get people to do what he wanted, it was like second nature. I’d already watched him do it with everyone he’d come in contact with since leaving Napa.
I shook my head and pushed from the bed, starting for the door. I hesitated with my hand on the knob, waiting to see if King would say something. Apologize, maybe. Or call me back. But he said nothing. I left the room, using every bit of strength I had not to look back at him.
I returned to the kitchen to find the rest of the crew already settled into their spots around a large heavy farmhouse table with plates and silverware laid out and the casserole on a trivet in the center.
“Help yourself,” I grumbled, taking my place at the end of the table.
“What’s got you in a twist?” Linney asked.
“Nothing,” I said, reaching for the serving spoon. “I’m just anxious to get this show on the road. How’s it coming on securing the gala invitation?”
Ziv shoved the rest of a roll in his mouth before answering. “No luck yet. I’m trying something different though.”
King came sauntering in, dressed in a form-fitting dark T-shirt and designer jeans. He’d brushed his hair, the still damp locks swept back over his eyes and tamed, for the moment. Without even looking my way, he took his place at the other end of the table and reached for the pitcher of water. “Why don’t we just take one from a known attendee’s house?”
The rest of us stared at him until he noticed the silence and looked up from where he’d been pouring a glass of water for himself.
“What?”
Mouse dove right in. “Well, let’s see. First, it’s illegal. Ahem. Then it’s immoral—”
“Which wouldn’t bother a notorious cat burglar at all,” Ziv noted.
Mouse ignored him. “And third, how the heck would we know where the person had the invitation stashed?”
King his turn with the casserole dish and shrugged before grabbing the spoon. “Oh c’mon. How many places in a house would someone stash a party invite? Three or four max. Fridge door, kitchen junk drawer, home office, or tucked in a day planner in a purse or briefcase.”
He was right, and I had to admit it was tempting.
Linney seemed to be considering the idea. “What happens when that person shows up without their invitation?”
King took a huge bite of the dish before swallowing and responding. I forced myself to eat instead of watching his damned throat again.
“Who cares? If they show up without their invitation, they claim they misplaced it because, really, no one will believe it was stolen from their home, and then they find someone who can verify their identity. Easy enough.”
Ziv glared at him. “And if they realize that particular invitation has already been used for admittance?”
King shrugged again. “You said there were going to be several hundred people at this thing. Are they really going to make a big fuss and ring the alarms over one illegal attendee?”
“The French ambassador is going to be in attendance, so they might very well ring the alarms,” I added.
King’s eyes swiveled to mine, and his lips quirked up in a grin. “Gauthier is going to be there? For real?”
Mouse referred to his tablet. “Mm-hm. Gauthier Roux is confirmed. Why, do you know him?”
King nodded. “Hell yes, I know him. That’s our in. He’ll get me on the list. The invitation will be under the name David Kennedy which means I’ll need my David Kennedy identification credentials.” His voice drifted off for a second while he thought. “Which are in Paris.”
Mouse looked excited to finally have something to do. “No problem. I’ll just make you new ones. You’ll have to provide me with the information of course.”
“Great. I’ll give him a call right now,” King said pushing back from the table.
“Hold up,” I said, raising a hand. “You’re not going to the gala, remember? So you won’t be needing any credentials”
King’s jaw tightened. “If you want me to use my source to get you in, then I’m certainly going with you.”
“I already said no,” I snapped, perhaps more forcefully than I intended, given the way Linney’s eyes widened in surprise as she traded a glance with Mouse.
King’s gaze held mine for a long beat. “Then I guess I won’t be calling Gauthier after all.” He lowered himself to his seat and dug his fork into the casserole as though he didn’t have a care in the world.
It was like he was deliberately trying to get under my skin.
It was working.
Ziv, Linney, and Mouse all sat quietly, watching the two of us. Eventually, Linney cleared her throat pointedly and made a head gesture at King. She didn’t have to say the words out loud—we needed him to get us that invite. Which meant I was going to have to be the one to back down first. Dammit.