EMMA

After putting in hours of work, we finally laid down our paintbrushes and stood back to admire our handiwork. But the growling sounds coming out of our stomachs reminded us that we had skipped dinner in our eagerness to finish the project.

We both looked at each other, our clothes splattered with paint, realizing that no restaurant would allow us in. So we made our way to a nearby food truck and grabbed two hot dog sandwiches.

With our hunger satiated, we decided to take a drive to Central Park. I quickly grabbed some napkins, and we placed them on the leather seats of Jake's car, not wanting to ruin them with our stained clothes.

When we arrived, we strolled through the park until we finally reached my favorite spot, a bench overlooking the iconic Bow Bridge, the stunning piece of architecture that spanned across the tranquil waters of the lake. The city's skyline at night looked like a million stars reflected in the water, and I couldn't help but stare in wonder.

We sat down and began digging into our sandwiches. Jake suggested we play a game of 20 questions to learn more about each other. I agreed, hoping it would allow me to bring up the case and get him to open up.

The combination of delicious food, beautiful scenery, and engaging conversation made for a perfect evening. We laughed until our bellies hurt, teased each other with lighthearted jokes, and even shared a few touching moments.

"So you've been to lots of museums. Which one's your favorite?"

Wiping my mouth with a napkin, I placed my finger on my lips, considering my response.

"Hmm.. definitely not the Louvre," I said. "It's so crowded you can barely move without bumping into someone. And don't even get me started on the crowds around the Mona Lisa."

Jake chuckled. "Alright. What else?"

"The British Museum is so diverse, but you know, the vibes just don't feel so... British," I added. "And well, Egypt's museums are great, but unless you're visiting in winter, you must plan to carry a fan with you in all places."

"You're picky."

"Guilty as charged." I grinned. "Okay, my turn. What's your biggest regret in life?"

Jake furrowed his eyebrows and pursed his lips, appearing to be racking his brain for an answer. He finally shook his head and mumbled, "I don't think I've lived through it yet."

As I studied his features, I noticed that his eyes were full of confidence, one that expanded from so deep within. It made me question my own confidence for a moment.

To the eye of the world, everybody who interacted with me immediately believed that I was the epitome of confidence. What they never realized was that most of it was built through layers and layers of masks, for deep within, I knew that by the end of the day, I was a con artist. My trade was making people believe in whatever the hell I wanted them to.

I wondered what it felt like to go to bed and wake with a clear conscience every day. What it felt to realize that you were good to the core and know your real self-worth...

"From Earth to Emma."

I snapped back to the present moment when I heard Jake's voice. I gave him a small smile and apologized for dozing out.

"I was saying it's my turn," he said. "So, what's yours?"

I blinked. "My biggest regret?"

Jake nodded, and I felt the urge to slap myself mentally for asking that question.

So many memories and incidents passed through my memory that I felt dizzy for a moment, but I regained my composure quickly and started thinking of an answer to give him—one that didn't include anything incriminating.

"Well..." I started. "I think it's not following my dreams sooner. I've always loved art more than anything, but I let fear and doubt hold me back for a long time. But now, I think I finally found the courage to start fighting for what I want—no matter the cost."

I have no idea why I decided to be so honest with him all of a sudden. If he only knew how loaded that answer was.

When I glanced toward him, I found his green eyes fixed on me.

"What was stopping you before?" he asked. "From what I witnessed today, you have real talent."

You know, the family business and perhaps the fact that stealing art rather than creating it was far more profitable.

"You can say my family wasn't a big fan of the whole 'starving artist' thing," I replied. "But finally, I've decided to take baby steps by making use of my art history major while working on my art in my spare time. And who knows, maybe one day, I'll be able to have my own gallery."

A warm smile flickered around the corners of his mouth. "Well, if that day ever comes, you can count on me to be your number one customer. I have no doubt that your art will be amazing, Emma."

A genuine smile made its way to my lips, and at the same time, I felt an ache in my heart. Why did you have to be so good and noble-hearted, Jake?

"Well, I promise you that my 'Untitled #1' will be dedicated to you."

A soft chuckle escaped his lips. "I'd be honored, but I think your art deserves a more creative title than that. Maybe 'Jake's Inspiration' or 'The Parker Effect.'" He grinned. "I think they have a good ring to them."

"Very ingenious," I teased. "But don't think you can distract me from the fact that you've used up your turn. So, now, back to me. How about we talk about your high school days?"

Jake smirked. "That sounds like an order, not a question."

I rolled my eyes. "Alright, let me rephrase. What's your fondest memory of high school?"

"Prom."

"Wow, that was quick," I said amusingly. "Let me guess, were you the star quarterback or something, the heartthrob of the entire school that everyone voted for as prom king?"

Jake laughed. "Well, actually, I wasn't much of an athlete in high school. I was more into math and logic. I was on the debate team, and I really enjoyed it."

I raised an eyebrow in surprise, looking at him up and down. "Really? You strike me as someone who would have played sports or something."

"Well, I did exercise a lot, and I played baseball with my dad whenever we had the chance," he said. "But, I always enjoyed problem-solving and critical thinking, so math and debate were more my thing."

I looked at him with a teasing smirk. "So you were the ultimate nerd in high school, huh?"

Jake chuckled in response, "I prefer the term intellectual, thank you very much. And besides, I did win the state championship for debate our senior year. So who's the real winner here?"

"Oh, aren't you full of surprises, Agent Parker?" I said playfully. "But still, what was so special about prom?"

Jake raised an eyebrow. "That's two questions in a row."

I gave him an annoyed look. "Oh, come on, Jake. Don't be a stickler for the rules. Besides, I'm just trying to get to know you better."

"Alright, fair enough. And to answer your question, prom was special because it was the first time I ever danced with someone I really cared about. My little sister."

I tilted my head slightly and raised an eyebrow. "That sounds like a story. Do tell."

"Well, I better start from the beginning, then."

I rested my chin on my hand and looked at him in anticipation.

He let out a small laugh before continuing, "That year, a girl named Jessica and I were dating for a while, and she was my first love, by the way. She was in the drama club, so when I asked her to prom, I did the whole "promposal" thing Romeo and Juliet style." He used his fingers to make quotation marks and emphasized the word promposal.

He stopped when he saw the grin on my face and glared at me. "I know it's cheesy. But come on; cheesy is basically a synonym for high school romance."

I laughed and made a gesture of zipping my mouth to let him know I wouldn't be saying anything until he finished his story.

"Well, she said yes, and I planned everything for the big day. But only a week before prom, I discovered that she was cheating on me with the football team's captain," he said, his tone a bit sentimental. "My heart was broken; I won't deny that. But I refused to let it stop me from creating a memorable night. So I took my little sister as my date. She was so excited to get all dressed up and go out with her big brother. And seeing how happy she was made the whole night worth it."

As Jake finished his story, I couldn't help but feel a wave of admiration wash over me, and as I gazed into his jade eyes, I felt a sudden warmth spreading through my chest.

I have heard a lot of fancy words. I have gazed at more gracious faces. I have even been offered fine gifts of gold. But, I have never been exposed to such raw honesty and to someone who was the real thing, whose world was free of masks.

And I couldn't help but think that Jake and I were a contradiction, two opposing forces of nature. He was sunshine, and I was rain. Our paths were never meant to cross, for our collision would result in a chaotic mess rather than a beautiful rainbow.

I made an effort to suppress all of those overwhelming thoughts and directed a gentle smile at Jake. "Full of surprises, indeed."

A smile was playing on his lips when he said, "Okay, it's my turn now. So, how about you? How was your prom like?"

I winced slightly but tried to hide how much that question affected me by keeping my tone even. "Well, I was homeschooled. So, no prom from me."

When I saw the pitiful look on his face, I tried to lighten up the mood. I sent a small grin his way and said, "But since this answer didn't come with any juicy stories, and to make it fair to you, I'll tell you that I also had a bad experience when it comes to first loves. If that makes you feel any better."

"It doesn't. I'm sorry you had to go through that," he said, looking sincerely into my eyes.

"Well, it's all a part of life's ups and downs, right?" I shrugged. "But since we both had unpleasant experiences regarding that special thing people live and die for, do you still believe in it?"

Jake looked thoughtful for a moment, but then his expression relaxed, and he locked his green eyes with me, and in them, I saw a glint that was just as mesmerizing as the city's lights.

"Well, you can't stop believing in the sun just because it's been temporarily eclipsed, can you?"

Jake's words caught me off guard, and I found myself lost in his gaze as my mind drifted back to a moment in my life when I was too naive to believe love could conquer all.

The thing about love was that, without mutual trust and respect, it was like a castle built on quicksand, and in my life, trust was nothing but a myth. I learned that the hard way, and I was never going to repeat the mistake of rebuilding that castle only to watch it crumble beneath me all over again.

I forced on a smile as I said, "That's a beautiful way of putting it. But sometimes it's hard to keep believing in something that caused you so much pain."

"I know," he said, his voice softening. "But I think it's worth it to keep believing, even if it means taking a risk and potentially getting hurt again. Because when it does work out, it's one of the most beautiful things in the world."

Gazing at Jake, I wondered if he was secretly a poet, crafting verses in the quiet of his mind after long days spent catching bad guys at the FBI.

But, even if love was real, I no longer believed it was for people like us. Thieves and criminals weren't supposed to want too much, which is ironic yet true.

Never live in a place you can't walk away from. Never own anything you can't leave behind. And never get too attached to anyone, for eventually, you will have to abandon them or get abandoned yourself.

They were all rules I wanted to break so badly, and maybe if things worked my way, I would consider giving love a second chance, even though it was far-fetched.

But first, things had to work out, and for that to happen, I needed to focus on my plan. I needed to get Jake to bring up the case one way or another.

"So, you mentioned something about making use of your art history major," Jake spoke, grabbing my attention.

I nodded without saying anything.

"Have you applied to any jobs?"

"A few, but I'm really hoping to hear back from the Museum of Modern Art. They have an open position. I sent in my resume. Fingers crossed that I get called in for an interview."

"I'm crossing my fingers for you, too," he said, a warm smile spreading across his face and reaching his eyes. "And I truly hope everything works out for you here in New York the way you want it to."

I hope so, too, Jake, and I'm truly sorry you have to be the scapegoat for that to happen...

I gave him an appreciative smile and shifted in my seat a bit as I thought of how I could bring up the case. Finally, I raised my gaze to meet his and softened my expression into one of genuine concern.

"Enough about me," I said, trying to shift the focus of the conversation. "You seem really stressed out lately. Is there anything I can do to help?" Besides turning myself in, of course.

"You've done plenty already," he replied with a small smile. "Today has been great. It's been a long time since I've been able to enjoy myself without thinking about that case that lives in my mind rent-free."

I fought the urge to wince and plastered on a smile. "I'm glad to hear that. But if you ever need to vent or talk it out, I'm here to listen."

"Thanks, Emma. I really appreciate that."

"Of course," I said. "And I understand you can't talk much about it, but you mentioned it was a high-profile art theft. The only one that's been making headlines lately is the Van Gogh painting that was stolen from the Met. Is that the one?"

I felt like I was treading on thin ice, but I needed to get him to talk, one way or another.

Jake's expression grew guarded, but he didn't look suspicious. He let out a sigh and mumbled, "Yeah, that's the one."

I was glad that I had finally hit the nail on the head. Leaning forward, I put on a sympathetic look on my face and said, "I can't even imagine the pressure that comes with working on a case like that. It must be frustrating."

Jake shrugged. "You have no idea, but it comes with the job."

"Do you think you're getting close to solving it?" I asked, trying not to sound too curious.

There was a moment of silence as Jake seemed to consider his words carefully. "It's hard to say with a case like this. We've been working on it for months, and it's been like trying to solve a puzzle with missing pieces."

A slight feeling of relief started to creep into me, but I stopped it immediately. I couldn't afford to let myself be lulled into a false sense of security. I still needed more information. However, before I could say anything else, Jake decided to continue.

"But I believe I'm finally onto something. I think whoever pulled that heist made a mistake, and if I'm right, I'm going to use it against them and lead them right into our grasp."

My heart stopped beating for a second. I knew it was biologically impossible, but it just did. And when it started beating again, it pounded as hard as a drum, each beat echoing through my body.

My mind began racing with a thousand different scenarios, each more terrifying than the last. What mistake was he referring to? Did he find out that the painting had been sold? Did he manage to uncover the identity of the buyer? Was he using him to get to Eric and me?

Was it possible that he knew everything and was the one conning me all along?

But if that was true, what was he waiting for? Why didn't he just slap the cuffs on me and arrest me the moment he laid eyes on me?

Suddenly, I felt like a spider in a web, caught in a trap of my own making. Yet, despite this, I knew I couldn't let Jake suspect anything, not even for a moment.

So I did what I did best. I put on a calm façade and forced on a small smile, hoping to conceal the panic bubbling up inside me.

"Well, maybe you will," I said in measured tones. "You never know what might turn up."

I didn't either... All I knew was that I had to be careful and play my cards close to my chest, or I would risk losing everything.

We continued to chat for a little more. I tried to mask the fear that had crept onto me and sound as cheerful as I had been the entire night.

But as soon as the night grew colder, I saw an opportunity to end it and suggested we should head home. Jake offered to drive me, and though I was hesitant, I knew it would be suspicious if I declined. I knew Eric would kill me if he knew I let an FBI agent drive me home, but that was the least of our concerns.

If Jake had managed to find the buyer, Eric and I were going to be in big trouble. It would only be a matter of time before Jake tracked us down too.

When I finally got home, Eric was nowhere to be found. I reached for my phone to call him but paused when I saw an unread message from one of my contacts, who had been helping me track down the buyer.

My heart pounded as I opened it, and once I read the name written inside, my blood ran cold.

Eric, what did you do?