Pros & Cons (2 page)

That’s what the news says, anyway.

Even my dad’s impressed whenever he sees my name scrolling across the bottom ticker of his big-screen TV—a gift from his one and only daughter.

That’s the great thing about my dad. We have a strict
don’t ask, don’t tell
policy which keeps us both happy.

“Let me guess,” Ethan says as he pulls the SUV out onto the highway. “You used Rohypnol on Jones?”

I roll my eyes. “I’m a thief, not a sexual predator.”

“Well, you obviously slipped something into his drink.”

“Sleeping pill.”

Ethan hums his disapproval. I can’t argue with him. Slipping Bradley a sedative is so . . .
amateur
.

“I was desperate. The entire weekend has been a complete waste of time. When did the Viper install dome cams?”

“A few weeks ago. The casino’s hosting the U.S. Poker Championship next month. Ceiling cams are a requirement.”

“Super.”

“I know.”

“So, if you knew about the cameras, what were you doing at the casino?”

“Let’s just say a little birdie told me you were hitting the Viper tonight. I had a feeling you might need my assistance.”

“So you’ve been talking to Abby.”

He remains silent and keeps his eyes trained on the freeway, giving me the chance to study his profile. Ethan has a mop of unruly dark hair and deep blue eyes that make most girls go weak in the knees.

Not this girl. Nope.

“Like what you see?”

My face heats. I hate when he catches me ogling him.

“You’re an ass.”

He laughs. “Someday, Jenna, you’re going to stop fighting this attraction between us. I’m really looking forward to that.”

“There’s no attraction,” I mutter stubbornly and stare blankly out the window. Truthfully, there’s
something
there. Even Abby, my partner and best friend, has noticed it. But I prefer to dismiss it as intense hatred instead. Admitting that I’m somewhat attracted to my biggest professional rival would be mortifying.

We really need a change of subject.

“So, Summers, what are you doing in Vegas?”

“Just visiting a friend.”

Suddenly we exit the freeway and head down a two-lane highway.

“You don’t have any friends.”

“I have one.”

“So you
have
been talking to Abby.”

“No, I’ve been talking to Coop.”

“Same thing.”

“Essentially.”

The fact that
my
best friend is in love with
his
best friend makes our jobs monumentally more difficult.

“So you rode in on your black SUV to save me. I’m touched, Summers, really.”

He shrugs. “I owed you one.”

It’s true. About three months ago, I saved his sorry ass from what could have been a particularly embarrassing art heist. The idiots had planned to break into
my
aunt’s Manhattan art gallery, completely unaware of the vibration sensors her security team had installed the week before.

“Thanks again for not letting me go to prison,” he says.

“I regret it every day.”

The twinkling lights of a tiny airport appear on the right side of the highway.

“Wow, you really are getting me out of town.”

He grins and drives us closer to the hangar. The SUV stops just yards away from a small plane. When the two of us climb out of the vehicle, we’re immediately welcomed by a tall, muscular man. His hair is cut short—almost military-style. Ethan makes the introductions.

“This is Gabriel, my pilot . . . among other things. He’ll take you anywhere you want to go.”

“This way, Miss York.”

Gabriel smiles warmly and ushers me onboard the plane. Ethan follows, but instead of taking the chair next to mine, he reaches for my seatbelt. His hand so close to my lap sends my imagination into overdrive.

Maybe I’d misjudged Ethan Summers. He really has no reason to help me, and yet here he is, plotting my escape and making sure I’m buckled up for safety.

“It’s a little tight.”

He smiles sheepishly. “Sorry. I just want you to be very secure. Gabe is carrying precious cargo tonight. I’d be deeply disappointed if you were harmed in any way.”

“That’s . . . kind of sweet.”

“I keep telling you I’m a sweet guy.” Ethan grins. “Anyway, this should hold you. Have a safe flight.”

What
?

“Wait! You aren’t coming?”

Ethan shakes his head. He also tightens my seatbelt a little more. I’m immediately suspicious.

“Summers . . .”

“Yes?”

“Why aren’t you coming?”

“Well, Coop and I have plans. It seems there’s another casino on the strip that has yet to embrace the wonder of the dome cams. There’s a tournament there tonight. High rollers. High stakes. I knew you wouldn’t be interested.”

I struggle against the restraint. “Damn you! Let me off this plane.”

“Take good care of her, Gabe,” he shouts toward the pilot. Ethan then lifts his hand and gently ghosts his fingertips across my cheek. “My world wouldn’t be nearly as much fun without her in it.”

He shoots me one last cocky smile before slamming the hatch.

I smile up at the sunshine and sip my fruity drink. The moment my glass is empty is the exact moment our waiter appears, holding a fresh one. This time, he made sure to include the little umbrella.

I really love the little umbrellas.

Our waiter’s name is Pablo, and Pablo is a shameless flirt. He isn’t my type at all, but that doesn’t stop me from flirting right back.

It’s shameful the levels to which I’ll stoop for free cocktails.

I grin at my best friend after the pretty boy walks away. “You know, the only thing that would make this vacation complete would be if Summers was paying for the drinks.”

“He paid for the flight and hotel,” Abby reminds me.

“True.”

With a nod, Abby licks her fingertip and turns the page of her book. I don’t know what she’s reading, but it must be fascinating. Not even our hot waiter can divert her attention from it.
Do people still read actual books?
I make a mental note to get her an e-reader for Christmas.

“You know, Jenna, you could be a little nicer to the guy. He did save your ass in Vegas.”

“I could have saved my own ass. Besides, he only rescued me because he wanted to get me out of town. How much did they make, anyway?”

“Coop said they split about five million.

“We could have gotten ten.”

Abby laughs. “I know. Apparently security was all over them. It was the best they could do.”

“Poor babies.”

She sighs dreamily. “Coop was in
such
a good mood that night.”

“I’m not listening to this.”

I reach for my iPod, insert my earbuds, and scroll through my playlist for something relaxing. Abby giggles and continues her reading. I close my eyes and pray for sleep.

I met Abigail Moore, a blonde bombshell from Austin, Texas, when we were both juniors at Davidson Tech. I was hustling pool at a campus bowling alley when I first heard her name. Abby ran an underground gambling ring from her dorm room, raking in thousands each week thanks to our football team and their particularly crappy season. She had every player, not to mention the coaches, in her back pocket because they refused to ever bet against themselves. By the time we were seniors, we’d joined forces and expanded our campus empire to include the basketball and soccer teams. When we graduated with our worthless liberal arts degrees, the underclassmen breathed a sigh of relief, knowing their money was safe once again.

I’m awakened by someone’s strong hands on my arms. Inhaling deeply, I smell the sweet scent of coconut and something that smells suspiciously like . . .

“I know you’re awake, Jenna.”

Crap.

“Are you touching me, Summers?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“May I ask why you’re touching me?”

“Sunburns are a bitch, York.”

With a disgusted sigh, I raise my sunglasses, letting them rest on my head. I open my eyes against the blinding sunlight, and sure enough, I’m greeted by Ethan Summers and his cocky grin.

“Let me do your back,” he says.

“I can do my own back.”

“Really? I mean, I know you’re flexible. I’ve seen you in action. But rubbing sunscreen onto your own back would be quite impressive and clearly a waste of natural talent. I can think of far more interesting ways to demonstrate your flexibility.”

“Are you flirting with me?”

“Is it working?”

“No,” I mutter, but I turn over on the lounger and halfheartedly grant him access to my back. He’s right. Sunburn—especially on my pale skin—wouldn’t be fun at all.

“I guess I’ll have to keep trying.”

“Maybe you’re losing your touch.”

“I think my touch is just fine.”

His strong hands gently massage my shoulders, and I have to bite my lip to keep a whimper from escaping. After a few minutes, I finally realize he’s sitting in my best friend’s lounger.

“Where’s Abby?”

“Where do you think?”

Of course she’d ditch me for a make-out session with Coop.

“I hate them both.”

“Me, too.” Ethan chuckles as his fingers gently caress my skin. “I’m gonna need to undo your top.”

“You do and you die.”

“I thought girls hated tan lines?”

“This girl doesn’t care.”

“So stubborn.” Ethan sighs and hands me the lotion. “There. Now your fair skin will stay beautiful.”

I lean back and place my sunglasses back on my face. “You’re such a charmer.”

“Sometimes.”

“But not today.”

He shakes his head. “You know, you might be a little more appreciative, considering I’m financing this little Mexican vacation. When I said Gabe would take you anywhere you wanted to go, I assumed you’d pick somewhere within the continental United States.”

“Gabe was very accommodating.” I grin, remembering the pilot’s laughter when I told him to fly me to the beautiful—and very expensive—Acapulco resort. “Besides, I needed a vacation. That last visit to Vegas was quite stressful.”

“Speaking of Vegas, I heard Bradley Jones is now in divorce court. His wife left him for an investment banker.”

“I’m not surprised. Love is fleeting, especially when the money runs out.”

I finish my drink. On cue, Pablo reappears. He winks at me, and I giggle like a teenager. One glance at Ethan assures me he isn’t impressed with our little display. I stifle my laughter and take a long sip.

“You’re shameless, York.”

“Beverages weren’t included with the room.” I shrug, totally unashamed by my ingenuity. “I have to be resourceful. Besides, harmless flirting never hurt anybody. We should know.”

“I guess we should.”

We lapse into a comfortable silence while watching a group of kids build a sandcastle. Just as they’re satisfied with their creation, a wave rolls in, washing it away. The kids laugh and move to a different section of the sand to begin a new masterpiece.

“Kids find joy in the simplest things,” Ethan says.

“We find joy in simple things. Remember the real estate scam you pulled in Jersey?”

Ethan groans. “That wasn’t
simple
.”

“Oh, big deal. So you let some little old lady grope your ass. That scam was quite profitable, if I remember correctly, and you were in and out within a week.”

“I see you’re still bitter.”

Yes, I’m bitter. I’d seriously considered buying Abby a muzzle after that unfortunate confession. Pillow talk with Coop has caused us to miss out on more than one potentially profitable con over the years.

“I still say Coop completely took advantage of the situation.”

“Coop is crazy about her. Don’t doubt it for a second. Besides, he felt so guilty we practically gift-wrapped that jewelry store in San Diego for the two of you. You’re welcome, by the way.”

I shrug.

“Can you imagine if we joined forces, Jenna? Me with my undeniable charm and you with your incredible . . . flexibility. We’d be unstoppable.”

I laugh, which is something I rarely do in Ethan’s presence. It just encourages him and gives him the impression that I’m yet another silly girl who finds him cute and charming.