It worked, but only until we were dressed again.
“Thank goodness the appointment’s early,” I said, glancing at the time on my phone. “If we had to wait until this afternoon, I don’t think I could stand it.” I glared at Evan. “How are you so calm, anyway?”
“Years of practice,” he said. “And I only look calm. A little bit of nervous energy is good before a job. It keeps you careful.”
“Then I’m the most careful person on the planet right now.”
He pulled me close and kissed me deep. “It’s going to go fine. Remember, you’re working with a very experienced team.”
“Which makes me the weak link.”
“Which makes you the energetic new blood.” His phone dinged, and he glanced at it. “They’re in front of the building,” he said. “Let’s go.”
We met Cole and Tyler in the BAS Security van, and drove together to Victor Neely’s Winnetka house. He greeted us at the door, gushed in a too-polite, too-obsequious way over what a wonderful man my uncle was, and led us up to the gallery.
I caught Evan’s eye as we climbed the stairs and saw that his reaction was the same as mine—neither one of us liked the guy, and for a second I wished we could just blow this whole thing off. After all, if this thing went as planned, he’d end up with the real Creature Notebook and we’d have a fake.
It hardly seemed fair.
We reached the gallery and stepped inside once Neely disengaged the security system. “It’s a wonderful space,” I said, as Evan detached himself to go with the lanky security captain who’d accompanied us to the gallery. Cole and Tyler stepped inside and started scoping out the area, asking Neely questions about size and security and claiming that all the information was for insurance purposes.
Neely answered everything without hesitating, and when I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket as per our plan, I told Neely that I’d like to discuss the placement of the food and drinks in relation to the movement of the guests. “I was thinking we could set up a cocktail station over here,” I said, pulling him around toward a wall lined with framed pages from various historical manuscripts. My back was to the wall so that I was facing the interior of the gallery, and Neely was facing me, his back to Cole.
“We can keep the food and drink around the edge of the room,” I said. “That should help traffic flow.”
“Whatever you want,” he said easily—and quickly. Too quick, actually, because it had only been twenty seconds. He was about to turn around, and if he did, he’d see Cole with his hand inside the supposedly locked case, and then we would all be screwed.
Tyler met my eyes, and in that split second, I knew that it was all on me—and even though I had no conscious thought about how to get us the hell out of this mess, I was still in motion. I took a step forward, pretended to trip, and grabbed hold of Neely’s arm as I went down to the ground, losing my shoe in the process and scraping my knee on the rough wooden floor.
“I’m so sorry,” I said, as he stopped his turn and immediately bent down to fuss over me. “The heels on these shoes, they’re—”
“Not at all,” he said. “Don’t apologize, please. Are you okay?” His back was to Cole again, and I winced a little, keeping his attention on me even though more than thirty seconds had passed, but from my on-the-floor vantage point, I could no longer see what was going on.
Then Cole and Tyler were behind Neely, and Neely was helping me up, and Cole and Tyler were asking if I was okay, and everyone was heading out of the gallery, with me and Cole and Tyler thanking Neely for his time, and Neely apologizing profusely and promising to make sure that the floors weren’t waxed the night of the gala so as to make it easier for women to navigate in heels.
“Oh my god,” I said when we returned to the van. I threw myself into Evan’s arms. “Holy shit, holy fuck, oh my god.”