When we were far enough and made sure that nobody was following after us, Eric parked the car and it was dead silence for a couple of moments.

"What the hell happened back there?" Eric finally asked me, breaking the silence.

"Nothing much," I said, my tone a little too irritated. "I was just about to get arrested by a very hot FBI agent."

"Wait, did you just say hot?" Eric questioned, looking at me with a raised eyebrow.

"Really Eric, that's the thing that bothered you the most?" I narrowed my eyes at him.

He sighed. "Did he see your face?"

"No, I don't think so. It was really dark and my hoodie was on," I answered. "I was only able to see him because of the night vision goggles."

Eric let out a breath of relief. "Good, why was the FBI there, anyway?"

"I'm not sure, but maybe the fake alarm caught their attention and when they found nothing, it made them suspicious or something. And because I'm lucky as hell, one of them decides to check the roof, and surprise, surprise, he finds me." It was a good, working theory. "That doesn't matter now, we have the painting." I finished with a grin.

I showed him the container that had the four million dollars' worth painting. He smiled before he turned the key, and brought the car back to life. "Well, at least your last heist had some excitement in it."

I let out a sigh. I had a feeling that this wasn't the end of it, and unfortunately, my hunches were right most of the time.

We made it to our apartment shortly later. I was so damn tired and ended up sleeping with the same clothes I had on me.

><><><><><><

"Rise and shine, sleepyhead." I was really bothered to hear Eric's voice as I started to open my eyelids.

I woke up the next morning to the annoying sound of my so dead brother. He just dared to wake me up, crossing a very dangerous red line in the process.

"Why the hell are you waking me up?" I snapped at him. "It better be a good reason or I swear I'm going to break your fingers."

"Whoah, someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed." He muffled out a laugh, motioning with his hands for me to calm down.

I threw him one of my infamous death glares and he laughed in return. "Come on, I just wanted to show you this." He handed me today's newspaper, and it had an article on its first page that said 'The robbery of the Metropolitan Museum of Art'.

I read through the article and I let out a breath of relief when I made sure that the agent who almost arrested me yesterday didn't really see my face. Oh, and I knew his name too 'Special Agent Parker'. Interesting.

"That's good," I spoke up.

"Of course, it is. That dumb agent didn't see your face, and we got the painting in our hands." Eric's eyes were full of triumph.

"What are we going to do with the painting after that?" I asked.

"Well, one of my clients in the black market is willing to pay six million dollars for it," Eric replied with a smile.

"Oh, two extra millions, fabulous." I grinned. "It hurts me to sell a Van Gogh painting in the black market, though." I made a sad face.

"You will get over it," my brother said, rolling his eyes at me.

I threw him another death glare before I headed to the kitchen to make myself some coffee. I looked for the coffee grains everywhere, but couldn't find any. "Oh god, don't tell me we're out of coffee." I looked at Eric desperately.

"Well, I haven't had much sleep last night. So, I kind of used the last of what we had," he replied with an innocent smile while rubbing the back of his neck.

I threw him the third death glare today before I made my way back to my room to change my clothes. "I'm heading for the coffee shop to get some caffeine into my system," I told him while putting my sweatshirt on.

He was about to say something, but I interrupted him before he could utter a word. "And no, I'm not getting you anything with me."

It was his turn to throw a death glare at me which made me grin evilly before I left the apartment.

><><><><><><><

I made my way to my favorite local coffee shop. I stepped in and was welcomed by the amazing smell of coffee. I ordered an espresso and a chocolate chip muffin, then I picked a table that was close to the windows.

The thoughts of last night's events overwhelmed me again. That damn agent.

"Hey, is this seat free?" I heard someone asking me. I made a double-take when I looked at him to answer the question, and my jaw almost hit the floor.

I was totally screwed!

There stood a well-built, tall man with ocean blue eyes and jet black hair, and he was smiling at me. However, he wasn't just an ordinary hot man; he was the freaking FBI agent that almost arrested me yesterday!

"Um, if you're going to keep staring at me like this, you better take a picture. It lasts longer." Wait... his lips were moving, but he wasn't saying 'you're under arrest'.

I swallowed hard and cleared my throat before I raised an eyebrow and asked. "Excuse me?"

He smiled. Damn, his smile was so beautiful.

Shit, Emma, concentrate. He was probably hiding the handcuffs somewhere.

"Well, I was asking you if this seat is free because the coffee shop is full and I decided that sitting with someone as beautiful as you are, will be so much better than sitting with a grumpy old man." He shrugged, and I really couldn't help but smile.

He had no idea who I was. And, did he just call me beautiful?

"For starters, yeah the seat is free. And, are you trying to hit on me?" I asked with a playful smirk.

"What, me? No. I'm just mentioning a fact." He smiled and held his hand out toward me to shake. "I'm Jake by the way. And you are?"

Don't tell him your real name, don't tell him your real name!

I hesitated before I finally put my hand in his. "Emma."

Damn it!

It was really awkward and I didn't know what to do. I just took a long sip of my coffee without looking in his direction.

"So Emma, what do you do for a living?" Jake asked abruptly, breaking the silence.

Why the hell was I still here and talking to him? I should get the hell out, but he didn't really know who I was so I might just sit for a bit and enjoy the situation. "I have an art history major so I work with things related to art," I told him. It wasn't a lie, though.

"Interesting." He gave me a soft smile, then he took a sip of his coffee.

"So, what about you?" I asked while trying to get ready for the answer that I already knew.

"I'm actually a federal agent," he said, his eyes full of pride.

"Oh, an FBI agent. That's really interesting," I said, forcing out a smile. "So, what do you work on?"

"Major thefts," he answered, excitedly. "We go after thieves and robbers who steal different kinds of valuables."

I nodded while giving him the 'I'm really interested in what you're saying' look.

"Actually, I was there when the Met got broken into yesterday." He sighed, and I almost choked on the coffee I had just swallowed. Opening up that subject with him was like swimming with sharks.

"Oh really?" I asked, trying to look as normal as much as I could.

"Yeah, and I was really close to catching the thief, but she disappeared into thin air," he said, bitterly.

Oh God, if he only knew that the thief he was talking about was sitting right in front of him now. I ignored the urge to laugh at the irony of this.

"What?" he wondered, making me realize that I was staring at him the whole time.

"Um, nothing sorry." I shook my head and took the last sip of my coffee. "Um, I think I probably should get going."

"Me too, I'm already late for the bureau," he said while getting up.

I gave him a little smile before I started to walk away. "Hey, Emma," Jake called after me as I was about to get out of the coffee shop.

I froze and turned to look at him, nervously. "Yeah?"

"This is my number." He handed me a piece of paper with his number on it. "You can give me a call so we can meet sometime," he said with a hopeful smile.

"Y—Yeah, sure," I muttered as I took the paper from his hand.

We changed a smile as both of us got out of the coffee shop and walked in totally different directions.

Oh my god, what the hell just happened!