“I don’t need your career advice.”
“You didn’t come here to scold me about your lost job, did you? Because I have a feeling that Dottie chick is the one you need to scold.”
“No, I came to beg your forgiveness for breathing.” She leveled a smart-ass gaze at him that made him want to kiss her senseless.
He had to start thinking with the right head. Fast. She was too damn sexy when she was pissed.
“Could it be you want to see if I really know where Martin is?”
She shrugged. “If you know where he is, then why haven’t the police beaten down his door?”
She was smarter than he’d hoped.
“I’ve told them everything I know, but I’d say Martin has left the state and is no longer high on their priority list.”
“What you mean is, you don’t have a clue where to find him.”
“The way I see it, you’re in a win-win situation. Either you help me out because you want to find Martin as much as I do, or you help me out because you need to keep me away from your scumbag boyfriend.”
“So what if I agree to help you? Then what?”
Nico had asked himself that question many times already. He might have been able to take whatever information he could get from Skye and find Martin on his own, but he wouldn’t have much chance of getting close to him once he found him. Skye, on the other hand, was quite possibly Martin’s Achilles’ heel.
And even if she wasn’t, she was the best bait he could hope to find to lure Martin out of hiding.
“Then we go on a little trip.”
“Go where?”
“I can’t reveal all my secrets up front.”
“You expect me to just take off with you? Some guy I don’t even know?”
“Don’t I look trustworthy?”
“No.”
“Can you even trust your own judgment after dating a con artist?”
One corner of her mouth curved up, and Nico knew he almost had her.
“I might be willing to help except I’m broke, and I need to be looking for a job right now since I’m newly unemployed.”
Okay, so he wasn’t a heartless ogre. Another stab of guilt struck him that she’d lost her job, and in spite of his suspicions about her, he felt as though he ought to help somehow. “So you’re a writer. Can’t you get a job doing that?”
“Yeah, me and the five zillion other people who want to be writers. I can just go down to the book factory and fill out an application. They’re always hiring.”
“You live in L.A. Why aren’t you writing for Hollywood like everyone else?”
She pinned him with a look. “For one, not everybody wants to write for Hollywood, and second, it’s not that simple.”
“Okay, okay. I know writing jobs don’t grow on palm trees, but still, if you’ve got any talent, you should be able to get work.”
“Screw you.”
Nico held up his hands in surrender. “Guess I had that coming. Listen, if it turns out you aren’t involved with Martin, I’ll get you some face time with my next-door neighbor. He’s the CEO of a couple of TV networks. He’s always complaining about how there’s no talent in Hollywood.”
He could see the spark of interest in her eyes that she was probably trying really hard not to show.
“Okay, whatever. That’s not going to pay my bills right now.”
“I’ll cover your expenses until you can pay me back.”
Her expression transformed to suspicious, but she made no further protest.
“So it’s a deal,” he said before she could change her mind. “You might want to pack for hot weather. We’ll have to take a little drive.”
“How little?”
“We could get there in six hours or less.”
She seemed to be doing the math in her head. Six hours or less could mean driving to any number of places—San Francisco, Las Vegas, San Diego, Mexico, Arizona or anyplace in between.
“You have to at least tell me where we’re going.”
“Does it matter?”
“I might have a clue about where Martin is.”
Nico stared at her, daring her to look away. She didn’t seem much like a criminal, but then neither had Martin. He’d seemed like a regular guy, a friend even. And Nico was the dumb-ass who’d fallen for Martin’s story of needing a loan to get his business venture up and running and having an ex who’d ruined his bank credit.
“What’s your clue?”
“Did you bother to inspect this bra?”
Nico shrugged. “My expertise is in bra removal, not inspection.”
She tried not to laugh but failed. “So is that why you thought it might fit me?”
“For all I know, you like to stuff your bra with basketballs.”
Though he’d seen her coming and going from the cottage enough to know she didn’t bother with anything more figure-enhancing than a push-up bra, and she was sexy as sin regardless. The red bra had just been his excuse for coming to see her, and of course, he’d wanted to make sure she knew Martin had been anything but worthy of her affection, not only because of his thievery but also because he screwed around.
She dug around in her bag and pulled out the bra, then held it out to him.
“The tag says it was made in Las Vegas. Is that where you think Martin is?”
Nico kept his expression neutral. He wasn’t sure how much he really wanted Skye to know. If she was still hooked up with Martin, she’d be able to warn him that they were coming. But the truth was, he had a good hunch Martin was in Vegas. It was like the Olympic Games for con artists, their ultimate challenge, and the police had agreed that even if Vegas wasn’t his goal, he likely could have made a stop there on the way to his next destination.
“Actually, no,” Nico lied. “There’s this town up in the high desert that I saw on Martin’s phone bill before the police took away the evidence.”
That part, at least, was true. Elroy, a nowhere town in the middle of the Mojave, had shown up twice on the bill. And since it was on the way to Vegas, Nico figured it warranted a stop-off.
“What town?”
“Like I said, can’t reveal all my secrets at once.”
She pursed her lips, then sighed. “If I go, I want my own private room wherever we stay, and you pay all trip expenses.”
“Of course.” He didn’t see any reason to point out that if he had his way, they’d only need one bed.
If he was destined to be the kind of guy women wanted for one thing only, he might as well have his fun with the one woman he wanted most.
“And no more suggesting I’m in cahoots with Martin, because I’m not.”
Nico shrugged. He didn’t believe her for a second. “Whatever you say, babe.”
“I’m serious.”
“So am I.”
“So what? We just get in the car and take off?”
“We