The Heist

in Japanese toilet technology.
    Kate followed Nick through the resort lobby to their private three-bedroom beachfront villa, with its coconut wood paneling, open-air living room, and personal lap pool in a tropical garden. She stood at the edge of the pool and had to admit to herself that a life of crime had some advantages. This beat the heck out of her one-bedroom apartment over Al’s Pizza Pit on Ventura.
    Nick tipped the bellman and joined her. “What do you think?”
    “Nice.”
    “It has a spa pool that has three different kinds of jets and soft lighting at night. Perfect for getting into the mood.”
    “What mood would that be?” she asked him.
    He was so close she could feel his body heat, and his breath whispered against her neck. “A romantic mood.”
    Her heart skipped a couple beats.
    “So let me know if you want me to turn the jets on,” Nick said.
    “Yep. Sure will,” Kate said. “Thanks for the offer.”
    Jeez Louise, the man was diabolical, Kate thought. Wasn’t it enough he was tempting her with a lap pool and a designer handbag? Now he was torturing her with the spa and possibly his body next to hers, pressed against the three different kinds of jets.
    “I’m going to unpack now,” she said, anxious to put distance between them. “Maybe I’ll investigate the beach and go swimming.”
    “Need help unpacking?” he asked.
    “Nope. I’m good.”
    “Maybe you need help getting into your bathing suit.”
    “No!” She narrowed her eyes at him. “You’re baiting me.”
    “Maybe,” he said. “Maybe not.”
    Kate stalked off to the master bedroom suite and unpacked her bikinis. Up to this point she hadn’t given them much thought, but she now saw the error in foisting the bikini buying off on Nick. The tissue paper the bikinis were wrapped in was more substantial than the bikinis.
    Kate did a trial run on a little white number that had a halterneck and ties at the hip. She stood in front of the mirror, looked at herself from the back, and grimaced at the amount of cheek hanging out. She checked herself from the front and didn’t see anything specifically private in full view, although there were hints of lady parts here and there. She bent at the waist and nothing fell out of the top. She blew out a sigh and grabbed a towel. She was willing to go the extra mile for her job, but criminy, this was about the scariest thing she’d done so far.
    Nick missed Kate’s grand exit because he was explaining to Willie why she needed to wear khaki shorts and the white shirt with the Huffnagle Global logo.
    “I paid good money for my breasts,” Willie said, “and you want me to stuff them into one of these boring shirts?”
    “This isn’t any ol’ shirt,” Nick said. “The shirts in your closet are one hundred percent Egyptian cotton and are made by Chiang Yick Ching, Singapore’s oldest custom shirt maker, who’s been making meticulously cut, finely stitched clothes for me for years.”
    “Sweetie pie, you can paint a cow red, but it ain’t never gonna be a tomato. This is not a shirt that says
Come look at me ’cause I’ve got nipples
.”
    “You’re supposed to be the captain of a multimillion-dollar yacht. You’re not selling nipples.”
    “I never said I was selling them. I just like when people notice. It’s like you and all those white teeth. Caps, right?”
    “Nope,” he said. “They’re mine. I brush twice a day.”
    “How about if I wear the stupid khaki shorts but I trade the shirt in for a white tank top?”
    “Done,” Nick said.
    Willie grabbed him and kissed him. “Perfect! This is going to be great. I can’t wait to see my yacht. This is like one of the happiest days of my life. I’m renaming The Big Adventure. I’m calling it The
Really
Big Adventure.”
    “Good to know you’re happy,” Nick said.
    Willie looked him up and down. “You want to make me even happier?”
    “Maybe not that happy,” Nick said, “but I appreciate the thought.”
    Kate was out in the ocean in her bikini and Willie was off exploring in her shorts and tank top when their personal chef arrived to begin preparing their dinner. Nick went over the menu with the chef, then walked out to the thatch-roof cabana on their private deck. He was standing there, enjoying the tropical air and the view, when Kate emerged from the azure water, her oiled skin glistening in the sun.
    Nick thought she looked straight out of a James Bond movie. The only thing missing from the picture