Besides, poison was too good a death for someone who enjoyed hurting his own daughter.
Either way, I was infinitely relieved when Vaughn finished his meal and left the Pork Pit without incident. I knew that I’d dodged a bullet, which was rather ironic, since I was the assassin here, not him.
After that, Vaughn spent the afternoon touring more job sites before heading back to his office. He never left work before eight at night, and he was always back by nine the next morning to start again. And it was rinse and repeat, with the same general routine every day that I watched him.
So I formulated my approach, secured my supplies, and made sure that my knives were good and sharp. I also reviewed my plan with Fletcher, who offered some suggestions, the biggest of which was that we postpone the job, at least until he figured out exactly who the client was.
“Seriously, what are we waiting for?” I asked him when he told me that one night at home.
I’d spent the day wasting time and watching Vaughn again, instead of moving in and finishing things. So I was in a bit of a mood.
“I’m trying to be smart about things,” Fletcher replied, his voice far more even than mine was. “You should too, Gin.”
I threw my hands up and stalked from one side of the den to the other. “I’ve been watching the man for days now. Trust me. Everything’s fine, and everything will be even better once I do the job. I know what I’m doing. Can’t you just trust me?”
Fletcher pressed his lips together, as though he wanted to say something but was holding back his words.
Well, I supposed that answered my question about trust. Hurt shot through me, along with more than a little anger, and I slapped my hands on my hips.
“Forget about the money and who the client is for a second. Do you want to see Charlotte’s obituary in the newspaper?” I snapped. “Because I sure don’t. But that could happen any day. As long as Vaughn is alive, she’s in danger. So let’s do this so she is at least safe. Okay?”
Yeah, it was a low blow, throwing Charlotte in his face like that, and I’d basically admitted that she was the reason that I wanted to do the job, but I didn’t care. Fletcher might not trust me, but I would protect Charlotte, with or without his blessing.
Fletcher sighed, but he finally gave one sharp nod of his head.
I nodded back, already planning the hit for tomorrow.
It was three in the afternoon the next day, and I was working my usual shift at the Pork Pit as though I weren’t planning on murdering someone that night. That was another thing Fletcher had taught me. Stick to your regular routines as much and for as long as possible, especially if you knew that you were going to be up to no good later on. Hard for the cops to connect the waitress who’d casually gone about her work with a cold-blooded assassin. A good cover took years to build, and I had too much invested in Gin Blanco to do anything stupid enough to attract more attention to her than absolutely necessary.
I had finished clearing away the dirty dishes and was wiping down the counter from my latest customers when the bell over the front door chimed. I plastered a smile on my face and looked up, ready to greet the newcomers. But my smile froze, then plummeted off my lips like an icicle cracking off a roof, as I realized exactly who had walked through the door.
Sebastian.
He was even more gorgeous than I remembered, even though he was dressed down in a pair of expensive jeans, boots, and a short-sleeved black polo shirt that brought out the beautiful tan color of his skin. The shirt was tucked into his jeans, showing off his lean waist and trim, muscled figure.
He turned and held out his hand, as though he were about to pull someone inside with him. A date, most likely. My heart sank even quicker than my smile had at the thought that he had brought another girl here, especially after he’d teased me about taking me out.
A girl did step inside the restaurant with him, but it wasn’t the sweet blond thing I expected—it was Charlotte.
She was even prettier in person than in the photos in Fletcher’s file. Long black hair pulled up into pigtails, tan skin, and big, beautiful brown eyes. At thirteen, she was adorable. In a few more years, she’d be a real heartbreaker.
Still, Charlotte’s gaze was dark and wary as she looked around the restaurant, as if she expected something bad to happen amid the clusters of booths, tables, and chairs. Even more than that, I sensed an aching sadness in her, as if she’d already seen so many terrible things in her young life that she’d never, ever be able to get over them. As if she’d already suffered so many horrible hurts that nothing could ever soothe them.
I knew those feelings all too well.
Sebastian glanced around the restaurant, as though he was looking for someone. Could it be possible . . . could he be here . . . could he actually have kept his promise to come find me? My heart spiraled up at the thought, even as I tried to quiet the sudden, fierce longing that I felt for it to be true.
But sure enough, Sebastian’s eyes locked with mine, and a wide smile split his face. He gave me a cheery wave before tugging Charlotte in my direction.
“Who’s that schmuck?” a voice grumbled. “And why is he waving at you?”
I glanced at Finn, who was sitting on the stool closest to the cash register. He’d finally come to the Pork Pit for lunch, like he’d promised Fletcher, although the old man had decided to take the afternoon off and go fishing, since business had been so slow. Fletcher had left fifteen minutes ago. He’d asked Finn to go with him, but Finn had said no. The disappointment in the old man’s face had made me want to smack the stupid out of Finn for taking his father for granted again.
“Is he here to see you?” Finn sniped again. “Is that your new boyfriend or something?”
“Shut up,” I hissed. “He is not my boyfriend.”
Finn gave me an assessing look, his green eyes bright and knowing. “Oh . . . but you’d like him to be, wouldn’t you?”
All I could do was stand there and fume, giving Finn his answer.
“Well, well, well, things just got a lot more interesting around here,” he drawled. “Think I’ll stick around and see the splendor of young love.”
I glared at him. “If you mess this up for me, you will wish that you had gone fishing with Fletcher. You should have gone anyway. All he wanted was to spend some time with you.”
Finn’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t tell me what to do about the old man, Gin. Not when you’re so hot and bothered to move out of his house and start your life of grand adventure.”