or something. Or maybe I’ve exposed you to a ring of super fans who want to kidnap you and hold you for ransom until you produce another painting.”
Ice formed in Eli’s gut. “Did he give a name? Any indication of who he was talking to?”
“No.”
“Then don’t worry about it for now.” Yeah, let me worry about who the fuck is keeping tabs on my brother. Damn it, Samson, what kind of trouble are you in?
“I can’t just ignore it. He wants something from you, and it makes me nervous to think about what that might be.”
It made him nervous, too. But like hell he was going to say so. Still, he had an opening. “Well, I was thinking about something else at dinner. You know that bracelet your mom was wearing?”
“You mean that one daddy dearest got all possessive about?”
“Yeah, that’s the one. I know this is a little farfetched, but I remember that being a one-of-a-kind item that was part of a jewelry and art heist some years ago.”
“Are you sure?”
He shrugged. “I’m pretty sure. It was a heist that I paid careful attention to. It was totally something out of the Thomas Crown Affair or something. They took priceless art and jewelry and replaced everything with exact replicas.”
“I think I remember that on E! or something. The top ten art heists of all time.”
“I could swear that bracelet was part of it. But maybe it’s a replica.”
Part of his job was to know when to back off. And he was flirting with that line. Ignoring the pang of guilt, he added, “I only remember 'cause my girlfriend at the time was obsessed with getting a knock off.”
Jessica wrinkled her nose. “Girlfriend huh?”
Eli smirked. “She was a hag really.”
“Yeah, I’ll bet. Not to say that I trust the guy, but he’s hardly young enough or fit enough to pull off a heist. I’m sure it just looks like it. But shoot, if it was the bracelet, it would be a quick way to get him out of my life for good.”
Eli shrugged. “You never know about people, I guess.” If he was reading her right, she’d look into that bracelet. If Michael was connected to Samson somehow and connected to the bracelet, maybe they finally had a break in the case. But the jewelry case had been dead for years, according to Vince.
He parked in front of her house and turned the engine off.
She blinked up at him from under lowered lashes. “Thanks for tonight. I didn’t know it was going to be torture time. Though knowing my mother, I should have guessed.”
Every cell and nerve ending in Eli’s body stood at attention. The look she was giving him said fuck me. But she held herself at an arm’s length. He could be the calm, controlled gentleman he’d learned to be, or he could do the one thing he’d been dying to do all night. He’d also made a promise not to touch her, until she asked.
“You want to tell me what’s wrong?”
“My mother has a way of getting to me.”
“She’s proud of you, Jessica.”
“Oh, really? That’s why she always invites Destiny to events and tells me that’s how I should run my business.” She rubbed the end of her nose. “Apparently, my tats and feathers hurt my career. Speaking of Destiny, the two of you were chatting for a bit.”
Eli shrugged. “I happen to like the feathers. And you don’t have anything to worry about. She made her play. I turned her down. I prefer my manager to have a few more scruples.”
Jessica chewed her bottom lip. “I appreciate that.”
He shrugged. “Besides, I believe in an underdog.”
She made a noncommittal sound. “She has more experience.”
“She’s not you. I did my research. I only want the best.”
She gave him a small smile. “You don’t strike me as an alternative kind of guy.”
Eli laughed. “Wondering what I’m doing with you?”
“Kinda.”
“You make me feel something.” In a quieter voice he added, “I’ve been numb for a long time.”
“Okay, can I ask you something else?”
“Shoot.” She could ask, but he wasn’t sure he could answer honestly.
“What should I expect from your exhibition? We haven’t really discussed it, and I, uh, I’ve seen your show obviously. If you need anything else to, erm, perform, I should know.”
Eli’s skin prickled. He’d expected the question eventually, and he’d discussed it with Samson. That didn’t stop the guilt from worming its way around his intestines. “I paint.”
Her lips thinned. “I know that, but come on, I’ve