“I know,” Grace said, like he couldn’t possibly think of any other outcome, even though he was really good at thinking of all the bad outcomes, which was why he was so good at stealing things without being noticed.
“But only because I have really good health insurance,” Josh grumbled, obviously tired. “I think one of our pro bono jobs needs to be conning that one politician who keeps trying to rescind healthcare into giving us universal coverage. What do you think?”
Grace’s rabbit mind took a hop. “Could we pretend to be ghosts?”
“I think heaven would approve,” Josh said.
They spent half an hour planning that heist, until Josh dropped off to sleep. Grace followed soon after, because he and Josh had done this a lot growing up, planned into infinity like that.
Apparently acting like a grown-up was just as easy as a grown-up as planning for it had been as a kid.
DANNY TOOK them both home the next morning, Josh pale and tired because nobody really slept in hospitals, and Danny making encouraging conversation—mostly about the job, because Grace got it now that sometimes work was code for “I love you but I don’t want to talk about the real stuff now.”
When they got back to the mansion, Josh went upstairs to his room, and Grace followed, peeling off for his own. He kicked off his shoes and crawled into bed fully clothed, not surprised when Hunter came in about half an hour later.
He didn’t say anything—didn’t say the C word or talk about Josh going into chemo or how hard it was going to be when they were a man down. And he didn’t ask Grace how he was doing, either.
He just lay down behind Grace and pulled him close and murmured, “Baby.”
That’s all. One word.
Baby.
And Grace cried and cried and cried.
Baby
HUNTER HAD to hand it to Josh Salinger. Not only did he kick ass even when on the verge of being critically ill, he didn’t let shit slide just because he was getting chemo three days a week.
His suggestions about the staging area and recording the auction had been taken to heart, and the result was that Grace had made a couple of trips into Danny’s museum to plant audio and video bugs in some of the rooms they didn’t think the auction would be in, as well as in the places they did think it might be in.
He was always accompanied, sometimes by Hunter, sometimes by Chuck, and once by Julia, who, judging by their feed, held his hand and talked to him about why he and Josh should go back to school and asked him if he was eating right, that he seemed a bit thin.
Grace had allowed himself to be mothered right up until he saw something amazing in the gem room and almost ripped her arm off trying to get the two of them to check it out before they moved on to another place.
Judging by the bemused look on Julia’s face, she was perfectly willing to humor him. That night, Danny had gotten back from work and looked at Grace with a stern expression on his face, holding out his hand.
Grace sighed and—after a quick trip to his room—produced a gem of such amazing cerulean blue that Hunter’s heart almost stopped with its beauty. Everybody gasped and said it was stunning, and then, instead of begging to keep it, Grace handed it over, saying, “Thanks for letting me borrow it, Uncle Danny.”
“Of course,” Danny said. And not a single change in his expression gave away that he might have wanted to strangle Grace and was barely restraining himself.
But Hunter knew.
Just like Danny knew it had been acting out on Grace’s part because Josh was taking to chemo like oil took to water.
Not well.
Two days before the gala—and five days before Grace’s show debuted, Hunter never forgot that—Felix, Danny, and Julia had a come-to-Jesus meeting in the den.
At first Hunter thought they were going to cancel the job, but apparently the family motto of The Job Must Go On really was heart deep.
“You can’t cancel it!” Josh said, before anyone had said anything. “It’s not fair. Grace, tell them!”
Grace gave his friend a tortured look. “Artur is stressing,” he said reluctantly. “Apparently he has to make a delivery on opening day.”
“Why so soon after the auction?” Felix asked.
“Because,” Danny said thoughtfully, “whatever endgame we’ve sensed Kadjic coming to—whatever big takeover he’s got planned, he’s getting close. We knew he was picking up activity—this is just more escalation.”
“Which is great on one hand,” Josh said. “It proves we’re right and that the gala is where they’ll be, and the timing is perfect.”
“But it means we have to get it perfect,” Hunter said, catching on almost immediately. “Because if we fuck it up, Artur is really going to be at risk.”
“And the drop-off is in the theater,” Grace said. “So there will be bad guys in the audience, and Artur….” He bit his lip, and Hunter felt for him. It was funny—Grace had an embarrassment of riches as far as people who cared for him were concerned, but he had only now noticed the riches, and his overwhelming emotion toward them seemed to be terror that they would go away.
“He very much needs us to follow through,” Felix said. “We understand. We’re not talking about deserting Artur in his time of need. We’re talking about calling in reinforcements.”
Josh groaned. “Dad. No.”
“Dad, yes!” Felix shot back. “You can be there in the van with Stirling, only. No running around. We’re going to need Torrance there as our boots-on-the-ground backup guy.”
“And Soderburgh,” Danny added.
“No!” Felix and Josh both whined.
“Yes!” Danny retorted. “For one thing, because it really does take two people to replace Josh. For another, while Torrance Grayson is a great face man and roper—”
“He’s a reporter,” Felix said dryly.
“Sure,” Danny agreed. “That’s what he makes money with, but we’ve both seen his news programs. He’s good at getting crowds to do what he wants. If he’s got a rundown of my itinerary, we can get him to fill in as MC. He’ll have the crowd eating out of the palm of his hand.”
“But Danny!” Josh protested, his voice peevish.
Danny grimaced. “You can’t play the cancer card now, Josh. Just because the young man has a crush on you, that doesn’t mean we won’t need him.”
“But it’s so embarrassing!” Josh claimed.
“I have no idea what you’re complaining about,” Danny told him blandly. “You’re not even losing your hair. So we need Torrance Grayson to take my spot for the masses, and we need Soderburgh to take my spot as security so I can act as backup for Grace.”
“Cocksu—er, Soderburgh?” Felix complained.
Danny glared at the love of his life. “First of all, while it’s unfortunate that his real last name is Cox, I think we can all agree that your little nickname for him is in poor taste.”
“Fine.” Felix glared back. “Soderburgh.” From what Hunter understood, Soderburgh had been the name the man had first given them. It had turned out to be an alias—Carl Cox worked for an insurance company, tracking down stolen art and working security in case any of their big clients had art that was vulnerable, and aliases came in handy. But given that the alternative was Felix’s jealousy coming out in the rather crass nickname, they had all agreed that calling the guy Soderburgh was a good move.