He'd tried to steal a kiss again before dropping her off, and she gave him a flat stare that slammed the door in his face.
In his experience, women fell into two categories: those who were too old or taken, and those who were up for some fun. With the right approach, most available women could be seduced. It had nothing to do with their character or their gender and everything to do with the basic human need for recognition and attention. He was a grifter. Seducing, whether it was to separate people from their money or to entice them into friendship or an affair, was his art. He was expert in it.
He wanted Audrey. He'd used the correct combination of flattery and playfulness. He complimented her. He said all the right things and employed all the right touches, and yet here they were in the exact same place they had been the moment they'd met. She still wouldn't give him the time of day. He won a battle here and there, but mostly he lost. He was tired of losing. He was tired of obsessing about her. It left him irritable and off-balance. And worst of all, Kaldar knew that the moment she reappeared on his horizon, his irritation would evaporate, and he'd be all wrapped up in trying to earn a smile. Like some puppy.
He was thirty-two years old. Way too old to be thinking in circles about some redhead with a plump cleavage.
His mug was empty. Kaldar looked up, considering if he should get another coffee. A brunette in oversized shades smiled at him from two tables away. Hmm. Denim shirt, baring toned arms; low-cut white pants, secured on her narrow hips by an expensive belt; Ariadna Alto shoes with a sky-high heel - he'd seen them on the cover of a tabloid when he went to a store to pick up a few things to complete his own transformation. A chunky necklace of caramel glass beads completed the look. She had money, and she was unsuccessfully trying to pretend to be carefree and casual.
He was wearing his businessman persona, the same one he wore when he'd come to trade for information with Alex Callahan. Most likely, she was just reacting to the right combination of signals his hair and clothes were sending. He smiled back at her, pleasant but not beguiling enough for an invitation.
"I leave you alone for a few hours, and you're off flirting."
Kaldar turned. His mouth fell open. A pale pink suit bordered with black embraced Audrey's perfect figure. Her hair was brushed and sprayed until it looked glossy and slightly stiff. A wide hat perched on her hair at an angle. Her makeup was heavy and flawless. Her jewelry would've made any self-respecting conman come to attention: bloated gold rings encrusted with diamonds; a tennis bracelet so iced, it was bordering on vulgar; diamond earrings; and, to top it all off, a heavy chain of gold beads studded with tiny diamond dots. She looked like a politician's trophy wife, full of money and ready to take "shop until you drop" to the next level. She was absolutely perfect, from the hat to the pointed toes of her thousand-dollar spiked heels.
Audrey cleared her throat and raised her eyebrows, pointedly looking at the chair in front of her. Kaldar got off his ass and held it out for her. She landed, one leg over the other, her French tip manicured fingers holding a tiny pink purse. He sat next to her, and the heavy scent of roses emanating from her almost made him sneeze.
"Jonathan Berman," he said, inclining his head.
"Olivia Berman." She held her hand out, and he kissed her fingers.
"Charmed."
"So do I look like I'm ready to spend some money I didn't earn?"
"You look divine," he told her, and meant every word. "Former beauty queen marries a wealthy asshole; all the means, none of the taste. Yonker will eat it up."
Audrey examined him, leaned over, and adjusted the knot on his tie. "You look pretty good yourself. The slicked-back hair is a nice touch."
"I was going for rich sleazeball."
"You got it."
They looked at each other for a long moment. She smiled, and he grinned back, unable to help himself.
"Why did you walk away from stealing?" Kaldar asked. And he just blurted it out. Brilliant move. Simply brilliant. Such finesse, such perfect timing.
"A lady never reveals all of her secrets," Audrey told him with a smug wink.
He probably could've come up with some clever retort if his mind had stopped imagining peeling off her clothes.
"Any word from the boys?" she asked.
"Nothing." Nothing was good; it meant the plan was proceeding as scheduled.
"What happens if Ed Yonker tries to check us out?"
Kaldar shrugged. "While you were getting the war paint on, I checked on a few things. Ed Yonker just put in a bid on the Graham Building. It's an old theater and a perfect location for him: its back faces an Edge bubble. I imagine he now ferries people into the Edge. If he obtains Graham's, he'll be set up just like Magdalene. He put in the highest bid - eleven million."
"And?"
"I put in one, too."
She stared at him.
"It's Friday afternoon. It will take them at least a business day to run credit checks and other things. I've spent a long time building up this identity. Jonathan Berman has rock-solid credit and owns enough fictitious real estate to buy Donald Trump. If they dig deeper, we're in trouble, but they won't until Monday, and by Monday, we need to be gone. Shall we?"
"We shall."
He tossed some bills on the table, rose, and held out his hand to help her from her chair. She put her hand in his, and he gently led her down to the parking lot.
"It must hurt to burn an identity like that," Audrey said.
"Small price to pay."
"How do you do it? How do you keep up with things in the Weird and in the Broken?"
"A gentleman never reveals all of his secrets."
She laughed, leaning her head to the side, and Kaldar wanted to kiss her neck. "Please. You're dying to boast."
"All right." He shrugged. "I've spent most of my life trading with the Broken. I know many useful people, and I make it a point to remember their names and the names of their wives or husbands. I'm pleasant and charming, and I always come bearing gifts, so they don't mind doing me small favors."
"Why do you do this, Kaldar? Is it for the thrill?"
"That's part of it."
"And the rest?"
"I want the Hand to suffer," he said. "I'd burn all my identities and start clean if I had to."
"To kill one of them?"
He knew his face had gone predatory, but he didn't bother to hide it. "Oh no. I want the whole thing."
"The entire Hand?"
"Yes. I want to end the entire organization as we know it."