You've Got Fail(6)

“We did.” She scanned a group of women to my right, no doubt looking for what she could lift.

“Do you steal everything?” I stepped closer so she was forced to look at me.

“I don’t know what you mean. Like I said, my name’s Scarlet Rocket, so—”

“Cut the shit. Unless you’re a stripper, your name isn’t Scarlet Rocket.”

“It is.” She batted her lashes, the deep brown of her eyes dragging me down while her sweet vanilla scent tempted me.

“Prove it.”

“How can any one of us actually prove who we are?” She ran her fingers along my jacket. “It’s really an existential crisis sort of question.”

I grabbed her wrist. “Keep your sticky paws off.”

She stuck her bottom lip out in a pout. “I can’t believe you’d accuse me of such bad behavior. I would never take something without permission. You should be ashamed of yourself for harassing me like this. I’m perfectly innocent of whatever it is you think—”

“Blah blah, lies lies.” Despite my exasperation with her, my fingertips stroked the soft skin on the bottom of her wrist.

Her gaze dropped to my mouth for a split-second before returning to my eyes. She pulled her wrist away. “You’re bold.”

I almost laughed. “Me? I’m the bold one?”

She stepped back, then her eyes widened, focusing on something behind me.

“You took it!” An older man barreled past me, his cologne almost knocking me over before he even reached my orbit.

“What?” She pressed a palm to her chest, drama rolling off her breathy word.

“Don’t do that coy act with me. I just reached for my money clip, but it’s gone. I had it when I got here. It had to be you.”

“What’s going on over here?” A statuesque woman in a ridiculous outfit consisting of black and white cubes strode up.

Fake Scarlet shrank back against the cock collage, a cartoonish mushroom head perilously close to her ear. She glanced toward the door, but people began to gather around us, wondering what the bother was. No escape.

“She took my money clip.” The man pointed at her, and all the chatter around us ceased.

“Scarlet?” The cubist woman turned to Fake Scarlet. “What’s he talking about?”

“He’s lying.” She kicked her chin up. “That’s preposterous.”

“Check her bag.” The chump surged forward.

“Hey!” I stepped between them. It was a flash of temporary insanity, perhaps brought on by the ungodly number of dicks within my field of vision. Or maybe I was trying to save the Scarlet Rocket name. Or maybe I didn’t want her to get caught—no, surely that wasn’t it. “You need to step away from her.”

Problem was, the angry chump was correct. I had no doubt Fake Scarlet had his money clip in her possession at that moment. I slipped one hand behind my back and held it there, hoping she’d take the hint. “Everyone just calm down. I’m sure Scarlet—” Had I just been forced into legitimizing the imposter? “—hasn’t taken his wallet.”

Fingers slipped inside the waistband of my pants, and then extra pressure before my suit coat flipped back down. She’d ignored my hand and stashed her stolen goods in my ass… Well, the ass of my pants.

The sputtering accuser was making enough of a show that no one seemed to notice her sleight of hand.

The gallery owner clapped. “Quiet, quiet.” She turned to Scarlet. “I’m sorry, dear, but would you mind terribly if I checked your bag?”

Fake Scarlet stepped out beside me. “Not at all.” She handed her clutch to the cubist.

Chump watched as the cubist opened the bag and pulled out a compact, a cell phone, and a floral print wallet.

“Is this yours?” She waved it at the accuser.

“Of course not.”

“You never know.” She shrugged and replaced the items, then handed it back to Fake Scarlet. “I’m very sorry about this, my dear.”

“It’s fine.” Fake Scarlet had the acting ability to appear unruffled, though she had to be going to pieces on the inside. I was. Or maybe she was used to these sorts of scrapes.

“It had to be her. Maybe she’s stashed it in her outfit.” He took a step toward her, his chubby hands grasping.

Hell no. I blocked his path and glowered down at him. “You’ve made a big enough ass of yourself already. Don’t add assaulting this woman to the list.”

“But she—”

“Let me put it to you this way.” I leaned down until we were eye to eye. “If you lay a finger on her, there will be exactly two hits. I’ll hit you, and you’ll hit the floor.”

The accuser’s mouth opened, closed, opened, then shut with a snap.

He stared death rays at Fake Scarlet, but backed away. “It was stolen by someone here. I expect full compensation.” He’d turned his bullying words on the cubist.

“Henry,” she called to the doorman. “Please escort this gentleman from the premises. If he refuses to leave, call the police.” The cubist turned and addressed the crowd. “Please get back to your drinks and the fabulous art.”

The accuser allowed Henry to show him out, though he grumbled the entire way to the door. If he’d tried to make a move toward Fake Scarlet again, I would have made good on my threat. She may not be on the up and up, but that was no reason for some ponce to lay his hands on her. Once he was gone, murmurs started up and quickly returned to full volume.