The Taming of the Thief Read Free Page A

night after seeing someone shot.
          Oh
God. Maybe I have finally cracked.
          She stood outside of the neighborhood's pub.
Big Mac owned the pub and she'd known Big Mac since her student days at NYU. He
ran a comfortable pub, live music on Fridays and Saturdays, local ambience the
rest of the week. It wasn't unusual to find students crammed into corners
working on papers, reading, studying or chatting about the latest lectures late
into the evening, spaced out by the neighborhood regulars sliding in for a
drink, the news and a game of darts.
          The pub saw more foot traffic than vehicles,
but those hummed through the streets in ones and twos as locals made their way
home from jobs. Sucking air past her teeth, Sophie wiped her damp palms against
her jeans before grabbing the door.
          The scent of beer, Old
Spice and sandalwood wrapped around her as she entered. Big Mac held
court at the corner of the bar, drying glasses as he chatted with his daughter
Wendy. Seven months pregnant, Wendy typically worked as a waitress in the pub,
but in the last month, she'd spent more time on a corner stool than on her
feet.
          Big Mac no doubt preferred it that way. Sophie
waved, gaze sliding over the patrons and finding the two thousand dollar suited
Frenchman sitting in the back, away from the dartboard, the students and the
commuters arguing over the latest Yankees losing streak. He stood the moment
she entered, but he waited by the table.
          She swallowed hard, hit by the curious
desire to smooth back the hair falling over his forehead. It gave him a rakish
air despite the suit. Adjusting her purse strap on her shoulder, she comforted
herself with the knowledge of the taser tucked inside of it. She crossed the
floor of the pub, miming with her thumb and pinky to Big Mac that she'd like a
drink.
          He knew what she liked.
          Pietr offered her a wide, charming grin that
probably had women lining up to fall into bed with him. Two co-eds in the
corner had given up any pretense of studying to just stare at him
speculatively.
          “Thank you for agreeing to meet me.” Pietr
pulled out a chair for her.
          “Thank you for waiting for my phone call.”
She didn't miss the irony in her own words, considering her phone call came
less than three minutes after he'd left her apartment.
          “Heyo Sophie.” Big Mac delivered the large
glass of iced tea with three squeezed lemons buried amongst the ice. “Business tonight?” Mac's gimlet gaze fixed on Pietr.
          “Something like that.” Sophie eased up onto her tiptoes and gave the big man a kiss on his
cheek. His face ruddied at the attention, but he gave her a familiar pat on the
head.
          “You call me if you need anything. ” He gave Pietr another hard look
before sidling back to the bar.
          Pietr lifted his brows at her, waiting for
her to sit before taking his own seat. He chose the chair near hers rather than
across the table as she would have preferred, and the flutters in her stomach
became a hurricane as his mouth turned up into a slow, easy smile.
          Behind her the co-eds sighed and it took
considerable effort on Sophie's part to avoid the same fate.
          “He doesn't trust me.”
          “He doesn't know you.”
          “But he does know you.”
          “Yes he does.” Sophie didn't elaborate and
took a drink of her tea. The door to the pub opened, letting in a wash of sound
as four more people entered the fray. It wouldn't be long before the evening
slow crowd gave way to the louder, rowdier late night crowd.
          “Good.”
          “Good?” His reaction pricked her curiosity.
          “Yes. As grateful as I am that you agreed to
meet me, I am doubly glad that you chose a venue you could feel secure in.” The
odd words echoed with a sincerity she couldn't dispute. He picked up a bottle
of some dark imported beer and took a