Give Me Something

Copyright
© 2013 Elizabeth Lee

CREDITS:

Mi
ckey Reed, Editor

Regina Wamba – Mae I Designs, Cover Art

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

No part of this book may be reproduced without written consent from the author, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages for review purposes.

Piracy is a crime.  Please support author by purchasing this work from an authorized distributor.

For the
Con
who stole my heart.

Prologue

“
This is huge,” he said as he leaned back in his chair and admired the stacks of hundred dollar bills on the table in front of us.

“
I can't believe we did it.” I wrapped a rubber band around the stack I'd just counted and added it to the collection.  “Forty-two grand.” I turned to him and smiled.

“
Forty-two freaking grand.” He shook his head in disbelief. “All from one chump.  God, you make this job look easy.”

“
It was nothing.” I shrugged with a grin.  It was something though.  For the past six months, I'd been collecting lavish gifts from a real estate mogu
l, who shall remain nameless,
in exchange for accompanying him to swank dinner parties, fancy art exhibits and a handful of other events filled to the brim with uppity, social-rank-climbing assholes.  I had perfected the art of being arm candy and in turn compiled a stockpile of swag that Nick had just pawned off and made us a lot richer.  Who knew a collection of Berkin bags, Jimmy Choo's and one Ziploc bag full of gaudy baubles could fetch such a pretty penny? 
Oh, yeah.  I did.

“
Don't be so modest.” He stood up and started putting the money into two separate bags.  “You clocked some major time with that one.”

“
I wouldn't have been able to do it without you,” I said as I also stood, nudging his shoulder with mine.  “You found the guy, after all.”  It was true.  Nick had the idea of setting up a fake mail-order bride website and finding the perfect guy to take the bait.  Pretending to be Irina was easy.  I didn't even really have to talk to him.  The mark assumed I didn't speak much English, so I went with it.

“
I guess you're right.” He smiled.  He zipped up one of the bags and handed it to me.  “Here's your cut.”

“
Thanks,” I said, pulling the strap over my shoulder.  This was the part I hated – the part where we said goodbye for the night.  I was still reeling with the adrenalin from it all and now I was going to spend the night alone.   Just as his hand reached for the doorknob, I spoke.  “Wait.” I hesitated, unsure of what to say next.  “Stay.”  With that I pushed the bag from my shoulder, took three wide steps and crashed my lips to his.  He remained still as I wrapped my arms around his neck.  I'm sure the shock of me throwing myself at him caught him off guard, but it didn't take long for him to drop his bag and snake his arms around my waist.  Years of – “Are we?  Aren't we?” – were gone.  The desire that I'd always had for him was now magnified tenfold.  I started to move my feet backward, desperately seeking the bed, when he decided to take control.  With his arms securely around me and our lips feverishly entangled, he lifted my feet from the floor and carried me where I wanted to go.  

“
Rae, wait,” Nick hesitantly whispered as we stood at the edge of the bed.

“
Don't,” I quickly responded, knowing he was about to put the brakes on what was happening.  I pulled his lips back to mine, urging him to continue as we fell back onto the bed we'd made filled with lies and promises we should have known we'd never keep.

Chapter 1

Two years later...

I should have known better than to think I was done.  Done with a game that I knew all too well and had played way too many times.  I wanted to quit because, as lucky as I'd been, I knew better than to think my luck wouldn't run out.  There was only one other person that was as good at the
game
as I was and now he was standing in front of me, begging me to get back in.

Trickster, bamboozler, grifter. There were lots of names for what I did, but only one that everyone seemed to know – con artist. That was me and I was good at it.  So good, that I'd managed to live a pretty charmed life. I was starting my sophomore year at small private college, that I wasn't paying for, I drove a fresh off-the-lot vehicle, that I didn't pay for, and my entire wardrobe was made up of designer brands, which, you guessed it, I didn't pay for.

“Please, Lila,” Nick pleaded, letting his brown eyes look up at me in desperation.  “This is it.  I swear.”

I wanted to believe him.  He hadn't asked me for anything since last year when we convinced the Dean of Admission to manipulate our applications to say that we were attending college on a full scholarship.  By convinced, I mean blackmailed.  The lengths to which some men will go to make sure that their wives and families never see compromising photos are a thing of great power.  It didn't take me long to figure that out.

“Before I agree to anything,” I stated as I piled my long blond hair up into a mess on the top of my head and secured it with a ponytail holder, “you have to tell me exactly what you did.”  I had a feeling I already knew exactly what he did.  Like me, Nick was very good at convincing people to bend to his will.  He could charm the most cynical women right out of their panties, which, ironically, included me despite my inside knowledge of how he worked.  I had never been able to say no to him.  The only place Nick couldn't lie: a high stakes poker table.  He couldn't bluff his way out of a paper bag.  We sat in silence on the full size bed in my single dorm room, which I'd also negotiated into the contract with the Dean, as Nick contemplated what to say to me that would convince me that I needed to get back into the life I sworn off.

“
I made a mistake,” he said quietly.

“
How big?”

His lips twisted to the side, as he inhaled through his nose. “Pretty big.”  I felt a scrutinizing look cross my face as I waited for him to fess up.  “Forty.”

“You better mean forty dollars, Nick Dammery.”

“
I wish I did.”  He let his head fall.

“
God dammit, Nick.” I crossed my arms over my chest and leaned back against my plush, upholstered headboard.  “You said you were done gambling.”

“
I am... now.” He flashed me the flirty little grin that he'd used on countless women as he tried to win me over.  He really was hard to resist.  His big brown eyes, soul-twisting smile and chiseled features gave him the upper hand in the looks department.  Plus, he had the whole bad boy vibe going for him – tattoos and an “I don't give a shit” attitude.  Nick was the kind of guy that girls knew they should stay away from, but when push came to shove they would murder their best friends for one night with him.

“
That's not going to work on me,” I said, shaking my head and rolling my eyes.  “Forty thousand dollars.    That's going to wipe out everything I've got.”

“
I don't want your money, Rae.”  He used my middle name, the way that he only did.  Besides my parents, he was the only one who knew my full name.  Lila Garrison worked just great for most situations, but more often than not, I used an alias. Especially when I was working a job.  Sometimes I was Monica, the heartbroken ditz who was just looking for someone to love her, or Grace, the sweet, innocent preacher's daughter who'd never felt the warm embrace of man or, my favorite, Cami, the tough-as-nails wild child who was ready to be tamed.  It didn't matter what alter ego I was channeling, Nick knew Lila Rae better than anyone and I knew him.  I knew that he was only asking me to help him because I was the best and he needed me.  I could see it in the serious expression on his face.

“
Who do you owe?” I said, still shaking my head in disbelief that he had been so stupid.

He hesitated. “Marco Belletti.”

“Ugh.  Seriously? The most notorious asshole in the city.”

“
So you'll help me?”  he asked with a smile.

“
I don't really have a choice, do I?”  My response dripped with contempt over the situation that Nick found himself in.  I literally didn't have a choice.  Marco would kill Nick if he didn't pay up and I wasn't about to let the one person I loved more than anything take a bullet over money that I could easily obtain.  “
But this is it, Nick. I mean it. You're done gambling. I will not do this again.”

Nick's slumped shoulders quickly perked up and he reached across the bed, pulling me into his arms.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!”  he exclaimed as I tried to remain unnerved by our physical contact.  When he pressed his lips to my cheek, every ounce of me wanted to turn my lips to his.  For the past five years, Nick had been the center of my universe and more than anything, I wanted to be the center of his.  We were always teetering between relationship statuses.  We were somewhere between best friends and a whole lot more.   Nick always said that as long as he was still running cons, he didn't have time for a girlfriend.  “I promise this is it.”

Promises, promises, Nick.
  He was good at making them and not following through.  The only exception was me.  On the day Nick and I met, he promised that he could give me the life I wanted and he did. He understood what it meant to have nothing.  It was like we were cut from the same cloth and understood each other in a way that only made sense to us.  When I was fifteen years old, Nick and I were assigned to the same community service program.  I'd been caught shoplifting and he'd been working off the final hours of a destruction of property sentence.  We were petty criminals then, but in hindsight, they probably should have locked us up.  It's impossible to accurately figure the amount of money and assets we'd accrued over the last five years.  Impossible, because A.) I like to spend it as fast as we got it, and B.) Nick gambled faster than I could shop.  The only nest egg I had was the thirty-five thousand dollars, give or take a thousand, that I kept secretly stashed in a duffel bag in the bottom of my closet. I was saving it for a rainy day.  I'd always wanted to travel and I'd even tossed the idea of going to grad school around.  I really had no idea what I wanted to do with my future other than not have to worry about money.  Maybe I would just graduate from college with my Communications degree and marry a nice guy.  Or maybe, I'd just marry Nick.  All I knew was that I wasn't going back to the slums I'd climbed my way out of.

I had decided that when I got to college I would be done conning for money.  From there on out, I was going to be a legit, contributing member of society, instead of a two-bit thief.  The part-time job I had at the campus coffee shop was mainly just another way I felt like I blended into society.  Nick hadn't quit all of his conniving ways, but he did work a real job as a DJ at a club off campus and even joined a fraternity last year.  The money we made was more than enough to cover our expenses seeing as how we didn't have to pay for college.  I knew that if there was anyway I was ever going to be with Nick, he needed to get out of the game too.  I really thought that he was close to being done, but then he dropped this forty thousand dollar bomb on me. 

When you spend the majority of your time lying about who you are it quickly becomes a spiderweb that is impossible to navigate.  Before this year, every time I got out of bed I had to check a reminder on my cell phone to remember what part I was playing that day.  There were years of scamming the rich to give to the poor.  By poor, I mean us.  If you think I had a Robin Hood complex, I didn't.  I was selfish and greedy, just like Nick.  People who say that money can't buy happiness, had obviously never had it.  The only thing I wanted more than wealth was to be with Nick.