Confidence Tricks by Tamara Morgan Read Free Book Online Page A

since that awful robbery the other night, you know. I was beginning to feel afraid you didn’t want me anymore.” She stuck her lip out in a pout and ran a finger along the side of his face, grazing her fake nail—a Natalie staple—against his jaw. “You aren’t going to cancel our date for next week, are you? We’re still on for lunch?”
    His eyelids slipped down, supposedly sultry, mostly so he could concentrate on her cleavage. “Of course we are. Unless you want to come over tonight, that is. There’s a fight on cable—I’ve got quite a bit riding on Cracker Black Jack, and didn’t you say you put a little down on the match? We could watch it together, order in, maybe fool around a little…”
    Her fake smile widened until it felt like her exterior was going to splinter. An evening eating greasy Chinese and betting on a pair of middleweights as they bashed each other’s faces in was something she would normally love.
    As long as it was with any other man on the planet.
    “That sounds wonderful, but I have this thing at my parent’s house,” she said. “I know I’ve mentioned them before. Maybe you could come and meet my family?”
    Todd mumbled something about giving her a call the next day and practically ran in the direction of the elliptical machines. She watched him go, laughing at how easily he was manipulated. Men. Criminals or scam artists or respectable doctors—they all fled at the mention of home.
    By chance, she glanced over a few minutes later, catching a glimpse of Todd as he stood outside the pool area, chatting up an elderly woman who came into water aerobics three times a week by order of her physical therapist to recuperate from the second of two grueling hip replacements.
    It took all Poppy had not to vault over the desk and deliver a roundhouse kick to Todd’s face as he slipped the woman a business card, full of smiles and lies. She could practically hear him giving the pitch, promises of investments and payouts and retirement funds that couldn’t go wrong. The kind of promises a woman in her condition needed to hear.
    Another day, another victim.
    Too bad Poppy refused to acknowledge that word. If there was one thing this life had taught her, it was that avoiding victimhood had nothing to do with steering clear of risks or ceasing to live. In fact, it had a lot to do with the opposite.
    So this was her, taking risks. This was her, living.
    This was her, getting back the eighty thousand dollars Todd Kennick stole from Grandma Jean just months before she died.
     
     
    Asprey toyed with the stem of his glass, enjoying the play of light in his ’84 Chateauneuf du Pape. It wasn’t exactly the vintage he’d have chosen to set off the notes of a take-out hamburger and fries, but they were on a budget.
    “What the hell is wrong with you?” Graff fell into the chair across from him and grabbed the bottle. He took one look at the label and smacked it back on the table. “Please tell me this is one of your empties filled with grape juice.”
    Asprey purposefully held the glass to his nose, inhaling deeply and swirling the rich red liquid. “The rustic chestnut notes really bounce off the playful cherry in this, don’t you think?”
    “We’re supposed to be cutting back, Asprey. We sat down with Tiffany and agreed—no expenses unless they’re necessary for the job. It’s not right to rely on family money now that we know where it’s coming from.”
    Asprey took a deep drink before giving up. Three sommelier classes and it still all tasted the same to him. “Relax. I swiped it from the cellar at Winston’s house. Took a whole case, actually. He loves this stuff.”
    “Oh.” Graff sat up a little straighter. “In that case, pass the bottle, will you?”
    Asprey grinned. He could probably pass off a theft of the Mona Lisa as long as he said he took it from their older brother, Winston. So far, they’d furnished almost their entire living space above the hangar with odds and