The Temptation (Filthy Rich Americans 5)

“I’m nervous,” I admitted. I’d practiced the presentation enough times in front of him he could probably give it if anything went wrong, but that didn’t do much to help my nerves.

His look told me I was being silly. “You’re going to do great.”

Then he linked my hand with his and we strode toward the hall, funneling in with the rest of the certified safecrackers who’d been vetted to watch the demonstration, as I’d be giving away trade secrets. I recognized several faces in the line, mostly people I’d competed against in previous years.

We bypassed the man at the door who was checking IDs, and then confirmed everything was set up properly for my demonstration. The donated, older model Steadfast safe had been parked on a raised platform, serving as a temporary stage, along with a table where I’d stowed my tool bag beneath. Chairs were placed in rows in front of it, and as people began to move in and claim seats, I made small talk with them.

Us safecrackers were a motley crew, and it was nice to be with my peers.

But when the lights dimmed, anxiety fluttered in my stomach. The pressure was nothing compared to the agonizing hours with Lambert’s safe, but it was always hard working with an audience watching.

Well, except for Vance.

He joined me on stage and glanced at his watch, giving me the signal it was time and wordlessly asking me if I was ready. I nodded and took a deep breath as he strolled to the microphone.

I’d given him my biography to use for the introduction, and when he delivered it without glancing at any notes, it reminded me how gifted he was at public speaking. His performance was natural and captivating. If he did decide to go into politics, he’d do well. But like me, he wasn’t sure yet what path he wanted to take, and that was okay. We had time to figure it out.

Before he gave me the floor and exited the stage, he flashed his gorgeous smile, which quelled a big chunk of my anxiety. Without words, he reminded me I had this, and he was here for me.

I turned my attention to the Steadfast. As far as safes went, it wasn’t exactly sexy. The design was a simple black rectangle, trimmed with a thin white frame around the door. The electronic keypad was centered over a silver handle, and I started off the presentation by discussing the different areas of attack. I could go after the hinges or the battery in the keypad. Or I could come at it from the front, the side, or the back, and then I gave the pros and cons of approaching from each angle.

Finally, I got out my drill, focused on the door, and began my attack.

While I was drilling, Vance went into the crowd and held the microphone up for anyone who wanted to ask a question. I would pause my drill to answer, sometimes changing a drill bit or giving the motor some time to cool down.

It didn’t take me too long to penetrate the outer layer of the door, and I threaded my wire camera through the hole. The viewfinder of my borescope was mirrored on the screen beside the stage so everyone could see what I saw, and they watched as I located the white cable loop. I dug out my vice grips from my bag, clamping the cable off, and drew back the bolt.

When I pushed the handle, the door swung open, and there was a smattering of applause. I let out a relaxed breath and turned to face the audience, feeling pleased with my success. “What other questions do you have for me?”

A guy in the front row raised his hand, and Vance strode over when I nodded toward him.

“Yeah, hi,” the guy said. “What’s that?”

He pointed back to the safe with a puzzled look on his face. I followed his gaze and my heart skipped. It was habit not to look inside, and this safe had been donated, so I had assumed it would be empty.

But it wasn’t.

The interior configuration was similar to Lambert’s with a watch winding section, and there was a single piece in one of the spots, sparkling under the stage lights. I pulled the cuff out to examine it and stared at the beautiful watch where the oval face was ringed with diamonds. The word Cartier was printed beneath twelve o’clock.

This was a woman’s watch, and clearly meant for me. My focus snapped to Vance. When he’d disappeared ‘to the restroom’ earlier, he’d really been placing this watch inside the safe.

He stood in the center aisle of the chairs, wearing an enigmatic smile. Maybe he wasn’t sure how this would go over with me, or that I might not like the watch he’d probably spent tens of thousands of dollars on.