“He had about three grand at the start of the night, but our bar tab was eight hundred and he tipped three hundred.”
“How the f—heck was your bar tab eight hundred dollars?”
“He had two glasses of bourbon that cost three hundred dollars each. Plus I had like three drinks and appetizers.”
“That’s bonkers. That’s my half of our rent.”
“I know. Then he spent money on a cab, and a Christmas ornament, so I don’t really think anything is missing.”
“I’ve never seen anyone but drug dealers carry this much cash.” She waved the bills in front of her like a fan. “And that’s on TV. I’ve never met anyone in real life who had this much cash.”
“I said the same thing to him!” I told her, feeling vindicated. “I told him he better hope he didn’t get robbed.”
Hearing my words out loud had me smacking my forehead in sudden realization. “Damn it, geez. No wonder he thought I stole his wallet! It sounded like I was feeling him out, testing his level of suspicion. If I were him, I would think the exact same thing.”
“OMG, my fingerprints are on this now!” Chrissy shoved the money back in the wallet. She rubbed the leather down the front of her jeans before dropping it back in my lap. “But on the up side, you sound like a very clever criminal.”
“Except I’m not a criminal.” I wracked my brain trying to think when I had last seen his wallet. Maybe on the dresser? I knew for sure he had taken his ring off then. Understanding dawned. “I must have swept his wallet into Mississippi when I was leaving in such a rush. I just took my hand and dragged everything off the dresser and into my bag.”
Chrissy bit her fingernail. “Oh, geez. That’s not good.”
“I have to return this somehow without him knowing.” I tapped his wallet against my lip, then realized that was not hygienic. I lowered it to my lap. “What do I do?”
“Obviously you have to hook up with him again and leave it somewhere in his room.”
Hardly. “So the wallet that went missing in his apartment now reappears in the same place five months later? And I was in both places before the discovery it went missing and then reappeared? Yet it wasn’t seen during the interim? That isn’t exactly stealthy, Christina.”
“But if all the cash is still there, he can’t be mad about it.”
“It will just look like I replaced the cash I originally stole.”
“True. But mostly I’m trying to find a way for you to sleep with him again.”
That made me laugh. “Why?”
“Because he’s hot and rich. This could change your life, Mia. He’s already half in love with you, clearly. You’re his Cinderella.” Her eyes widened. “Maybe he likes that you’re a thief. Maybe that’s a turn-on.”
“But I’m not a thief. You seem to keep forgetting that fact.” I also didn’t really relish the comparison to Cinderella. Her life was shit. Though she did have her badass moments, refusing to give up.
“You’d better look for that ring,” she said.
“If I find the ring, I can’t return both the ring and the wallet at the same time.”
“I think you should. I think you just hand them to him and be like, sorry, here you go, and just see what happens. I bet he’s cool with it.”
For a split second, I thought maybe Christina was right, but then I knew that would mean he would never believe I hadn’t stolen them. Because if I told the truth, he would think it was bullshit, right? I wouldn’t believe me. Especially not after finding me in his hotel room months later.
“He’s in love with you, I’m telling you,” she added.
As long as I’d known her, Christina lived under the delusion that men fell in love much more often and rapidly than was realistic. That reminded me that I had no business taking her advice. She had the absolute worst taste in men and fell in love as frequently as my mother, which was as frequently as the lunar cycle. I knew I’d instantly connected with Chrissy because she was so much like my mother, but that did not mean I should listen to a word she said when it came to men.
“He is not in love with me. That’s absurd.” My favorite word, according to James.
I started digging through my purse, searching for the championship ring. “How much do you think a championship ring is worth?” I asked.
“I have no idea.” Christina swiped on her phone. “It depends on the player, and the particular championship game.”
“This is newish, I guess. I don’t follow football, you know that.”
“JJ Beckett scored the winning touchdown in the championship game five years ago.”
“Oh, great.” I was frantically throwing things out of my bag. Kadin thought it was a fun game and followed suit, pitching a container of crazy glue into the middle of the living room. “So it’s sentimental to him.”
“It looks like it’s worth thirty-five grand actual value to produce it, but the collector’s value is more like fifty to seventy-five thousand.”
That made me want to throw up. “Why didn’t he call the cops on me, then? He should have, otherwise how would he collect the insurance money? Or expect to have any chance to recover it? He didn’t even contact me.” That was bewildering and illogical.
“Because he’s in love with you.”
I groaned. “Stop saying that.” It was both impossible and stupidly appealing.
Aside from keeping my housekeeping dress from me when he’d discovered me in his bed, James had been nothing but generous. He’d expressed interest in me, and he’d been so attentive to my needs in bed his tongue had basically taken up permanent residence between my thighs. He loved his family, was adorable with his puppy, had lots of friends, and treated service professionals well. Yes, he was psychotically neat, but that wasn’t really a flaw.
Would it be nice to have a man like that in love with me?
Hell freaking yes.
But that wasn’t the real world. That was Chrissy’s fantasy land. Rich football players didn’t fall in love with the broke-ass maid.
Even if the broke-ass maid allowed herself to fall in love with him.
* * *
JJ
* * *
Mia was on time for our dog-walking appointment, but when she texted me that she was in the lobby, she asked if she could come upstairs and use my bathroom. Which struck me as odd. There was one in the lobby and it seemed more likely that she would have asked one of the doormen if she could use it.
But whatever. Mia was a mystery I didn’t think I was likely to solve anytime soon.
I texted her to come upstairs and I looked at Amelia. “The woman drives me crazy,” I told her. “But she’s oddly irresistible.”
Amelia just stared back at me blankly.
“I know. I’m an idiot.” I heard a knock on my front door and went to answer it. Mia was standing there, looking anxious. Her face was pale. “You okay?” I asked.
“I have to pee really bad.” She was bouncing on her heels and clutching her enormous bag in front of her.
“Okay. Come on in.” I pulled the door open and she pushed past me, nearly jogging as she headed across my apartment. “There’s a powder room in the hall,” I said, gesturing, when I realized she was going toward my bedroom.