The safe would be in his study. Tapping a finger against my lips, I studied the picture of the sleek office, with dark-gray walls and more brain-scrambling views. I considered all my options. No matter how great these photos were, I still needed to get inside and take a look around his place before the job.
And I had a good idea of how I was going to do that.
Okay. Now, the safe.
I grabbed my cell phone and dialed.
“What?” a male voice barked.
“Hi, Rollo.”
A grunt. “Go away.”
“Hey, I’m nice to you.”
“You always want things.”
“You enjoy the challenge. I need your help.”
There was a long pause. “What?” Curiosity tinged his voice.
Rollo was a hacker who rarely left his basement apartment, was in love with his homemade computer, and loved hacking things.
“I need the schematics for a Riv3000 safe.”
“What?” Rollo squawked. “You’ve lost it, sister.”
“Come on, Rollo,” I cajoled. “You can do anything, right?”
He sniffed.
“And I need a prototype of it.”
“You’re dreaming, O’Connor, or you’ve totally lost your mind.”
“We both know your buddy, Bash, can whip something up if you give him the plans. In return, I’ll bake you cupcakes. And those cookies you love, and a cheesecake.”
Silence.
“That raspberry-and-white-chocolate cheesecake?” he asked.
“Yes.”
A heavy sigh. “Okay, girly. I’ll see what I can do.”
I smiled. “I knew I could count on you.”
“Extra chocolate chunks in those cookies.”
“You got it, Rollo.” I set the phone down and leaned back in my chair, chewing on my bottom lip.
Was Mag okay? My chest tightened. Were they feeding him, or was he hungry?
The shop door chimed again.
“Monroe,” Sabrina called out. “I hope you’re in there thinking about who to bring to my wedding?”
Sabrina sounded way too chirpy today. I pasted on a smile and walked through the office door. “Morning.”
My best friend’s brow creased. “You look like crap.”
“Thanks. You look incredibly perky.”
“Rough night?” Concern creased Sabrina’s cute face. “Tell me that you were up all night having some hot sex.”
I shot my friend a look.
Sabrina’s shoulders sagged. “Or not.”
“Mag’s in a bind.”
Sabrina let out a gusty sigh. “You need to stop bailing him out, Monroe, or he’ll never grow up.”
This was an old argument. “Sabrina—”
“Okay, okay.” She held up a hand. “I won’t say all the same things I’ve said a hundred times before. I know you love him, and Mag is lovable, but he needs to grow up.”
“I need to head out for a bit.” And plan how to break into a billionaire’s multi-million-dollar penthouse, and crack his unbreakable, high-tech safe, and steal a priceless necklace.
I decided not to share those last bits with Sabrina.
“Sure.” Sabrina grabbed some pamphlets on the counter and straightened them. “Grab me a mocha on the way back?”
“You got it,” I replied.
Sabrina closed the distance, then wrapped her arms around me. The hug made tears prick in my eyes. There was no way in hell I’d drag my friend into the mess, but for a second, I didn’t feel so alone. I held on tight, breathing in my friend’s perfume.
Sabrina even smelled sunny and happy.
“Hey?” She leaned back, frowning. “You sure you’re okay?”
“Peachy.” I headed out the door before I lost it. “See you later.”
Ugly, Gray Pants
Zane
Zane strode through the Roth Enterprises offices, and tried not to be amused as several new interns scurried to get out of his way.
The offices were all delineated with glass walls, and etched with the Roth Enterprises logo. The floors were sleek, cream marble, and the space was modern, with clean lines.
He nodded at Justin, his assistant, and stepped into his office.
It was big, with floor-to-ceiling windows showcasing a killer view of Lower Manhattan and the Woolworth Building.
He’d come a hell of a long way from the young man who’d made it through college on a bunch of scholarships and two part-time jobs.
This morning, he’d already sat through several meetings, had a long breakfast meeting with investors for a new development project, and fielded numerous phone calls.
The phone on his desk rang and he touched the speaker button. “Yes, Justin?”
“Mr. Roth, I have an assistant for a Prince Franz of Saxe-Bavaria on the line. The prince would like a business meeting with you. Apparently, he’s looking for investors.”
“No.” It was common for anyone and everyone to come looking for Zane to be an investor, aka they wanted his money.
“And your mother is also on the line,” Justin added.
“Put her through.” Zane sat. “Hey, Mom.”
“How’s my boy?” His mother’s warm voice came through the speaker.
It had just been the two of them for as long as he could remember. He realized that no matter how old he got, or what he achieved, he’d always be her little boy.
“I’m good. Busy. Look, Mom, I want you to come and stay with me for your birthday next month. I’ll take you out for dinner.” And give her the Phillips-Morley necklace.
“Are you going to bring a girl?”
Ah. His mom was always hopeful that he’d fall in love and make her a gaggle of grandchildren.
“No, Mom. Just you and me. We can have some special time together. You’re my favorite girl.”
His mother sighed. “Zane, just because your father didn’t love us, doesn’t mean all relationships are bad.”
Zane pressed a hand to the back of his neck and grabbed the phone handset. “Mom, I date.”
She made a scoffing sound. “Dinner and sex is not dating.”
He winced. “I’m not discussing this with you.”
“Fine.” She didn’t sound happy.
“Come down for your birthday. I’ll book us a table at Le Bernadin.” The restaurant was her favorite.
A small sigh. “All right, Zane. I love you.”
“I love you too, Mom.”
He’d just set the phone down when Justin buzzed again. “Christian from Marketing to see you.”
All the warm feelings fled. “Send him in.”
Zane sat back in his chair.
Christian shuffled in. The man was Zane’s age, clean cut, good at his job. There were no outward signs that the man was a thief.
“Hey, Zane. You wanted to see me?”
“Sit, Christian.” Zane steepled his hands. “I wanted to discuss the money you’ve been siphoning from my business accounts into your shell company.”
The man froze.
Zane’s gut burned, but he shoved the sensation down.
Ever since he’d first achieved some success, there had always been people looking for a handout, wanting a piece of what he’d worked hard for, risked things for.