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In the time that it took me to go back to my room and change into jeans, a pullover sweater (I left on Matty’s T-shirt), and sneakers, Matty had already changed into the clothes he’d selected earlier. He also opened his safe and extracted the duffel bag.
“What’s in the bag?” I asked.
His head popped up. His hair was still messy. He glanced at what I was wearing and I saw an appreciative gleam in his eyes I didn’t quite understand. I was relieved that he’d agreed to go slow. It was fairly obvious that Matty was much more experienced than me. Part of me was worried he’d get bored, that I wouldn’t excite him, but I’d deal with that bridge if I came to it.
“We think it’s a fertility statue,” Matty said. “Joan’s contact is, unfortunately, skittish about its authenticity.”
“Do you think tonight will go badly?”
Up until now, I hadn’t considered how dangerous their operation might be. I didn’t know all the details, but from what I could tell, Matty, Joan, and Filipe were buying illegal artifacts from LAX customs and…and what?
Selling it to the highest bidder?
Bartering it for something in return?
I just didn’t know what they gained from orchestrating such a dangerous activity.
Both our phones dinged at the same time. It was Joan texting us, letting us know they were outside the Vaulteneau estate gate. Joan sent a selfie of her behind the wheel of her car. Filipe, in the far left frame of the image, was smiling and offering a peace sign.
“With Joan driving, it might go bad,” Matty said with a smirk. “Her purple race car attracts all kinds of attention.”
I put my phone in my back pocket and crossed my arms over my chest. “More so than your cherry-red Ferrari Stradale?”
“Valid point,” Matty conceded. “But it’s her contact and they’ll expect her to be the one driving. It will be a tight fit for us in the back seat. Sorry about that.” His grin belied his words.
“I’ll brace myself against your licentious ways, Matty.”
“Big words are sexy.” He stole a kiss. “Our not-very-licentious job will be to hold the statue very carefully during the drive.” He gently lifted the bag and cradled it in his arms. Something flicked across his face. Worry? Discomfort? And something else…terror? Whatever was going on, keeping the statue in perfect condition was of upmost importance. “Can you lock up the guesthouse on our way out?”
He jerked his head toward the bowl on his desk. In it, I spotted a set of house keys. I grabbed the keys as I followed him downstairs and outside the house. The sun was already low in the sky. The yard between the guesthouse and the main house was cluttered with pool floaties, beer cans, and toppled-over beach lounge chairs.
“Did everyone leave in a hurry?” I asked.
“Most left but others went down to the beach to surf. Davies or someone on the transportation staff will let them back in the side gate and retrieve their cars for them.”
“Who cleans up the mess?”
“We’ll take care of it in the morning. Miss Paulina knows to leave it to us.”
“Us?” I asked with humor in my voice.
“Yes. Us.” His mouth twitched. “You live here now, don’t you?”
We walked through the pedestrian door at the main gate and I saw Joan standing beside her car. It was such a deep shade of purple that it was almost black. The neon lights that wrapped around the bottom part of the car gave it a festive, carnival feel.
Filipe must still be sitting in the passenger side.
“True, I do live here, but,” I answered once we were within hearing distance of Joan. “My room feels like a hotel.”
“A good hotel or a bad hotel?” Joan asked as she opened her door. She slid the driver’s seat forward so that we could slip inside the backseat.
“A posh hotel, darling,” I said in a faux British accent. “But it doesn’t feel like me.” I returned to my normal voice. “It’s nice, don’t get me wrong, but I’m not very comfortable. Other than completing my school assignments, I haven’t been able to write a single scrap of fiction in the room.”
Concern marred Matty’s expression. “You can redecorate your bedroom to fit your needs.” He passed the statue to me, which was heavier than I thought it would be, to hold while he climbed into the back seat. Once he was seated, I climbed in, and we settled the status to lie across our laps. Matty wasn’t lying, it was a very tight fit as I squeezed against him. “Order anything you want. New furniture, decorations, wall accents. Make it yours, Ciaran. No one is going to stop you.”
“I thought Stefon was moving me into the main house when they returned?” I asked.
“Like hell he is,” Matty blurted before quickly amending, “Well, I mean, he was. You can move into the main house, if you want.” It was too dark for me to see if he was embarrassed, but his voice sounded like he was. “But I like having you next door.”
