The House Uptown by Melissa Ginsburg

Author:Melissa Ginsburg
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Flatiron Books

CHAPTER 22

Oliver couldn’t believe how smoothly the thing had gone. He hadn’t held this much cash in his hands in years. He’d forgotten the rush of carrying around that kind of money. Its dizzying potential.

He’d gotten to the bar across from the alley an hour early and snagged the front booth facing the window, a perfect view. By the time the sleek Audi turned in and parked, he had a nice buzz going. He watched Guidry leave the car with a bag, return without it a moment later, and steer up the street. Oliver finished his drink, paid his tab, and ambled across to the mouth of the alley. There, on the ground behind an unused Dumpster, was the canvas bag. He scooped it up and circled the block to his car.

He counted the money once, then again. Ten thousand, in hundreds, exactly like he’d instructed. He wanted to spend it immediately. He took the freeway out to Metairie and parked in front of Causeway Coin. The place looked like a dump from the outside, but they had a reputation for being fair. Inside Oliver went straight to the counter of luxury watches.

They had plenty of vintage Rolexes and Patek Philippes, but Oliver was immediately drawn to a Vacheron Constantin Patrimony with a platinum case, taupe face, and black alligator band. It was superb. Oliver could never have afforded it new, but pre-owned, it was a possibility. They had it listed at $11,500, but Oliver talked them down. They were persuaded by the bag of cash. He handed it over and watched the owner fuss over the watch, polishing its perfectly polished face, fitting it into a gift box, polishing it again. Oliver ached to have his hands on it, he had to restrain himself from reaching across the counter and grabbing it from the guy. Finally the man handed him the box and he was out of there, driving, the watch tucked in his lap.

When he got to John’s store it was nearly five, but John was stuck with a customer. Oliver waited, the box in his hand. The customer was one of those smooth-haired older ladies weighed down with chunks of jewelry. She was giving John a lecture on silver marks, as though John didn’t know all about them. He was patient, even with these arrogant clients, people with fragile egos and money to spend. He’d imitate the worst ones over dinner with impressions so accurate he could make Oliver weep with laughter.

Finally they finished up. The lady left without buying anything.

“How do you not strangle them?” Oliver said.

John smiled. “She’ll be back. She’s going to buy the Swedish armoire.”

“The painted one?” The armoire would bring twenty grand at least, and selling it would free up valuable space in the shop. It had been there four years already.

“She has taste, at least,” John said.

“Hey, I got you something,” Oliver said, as though he’d forgotten and just remembered.

“Please say it’s candy, I’m starving.”

“Sorry. It’s not candy. Here.”

Oliver handed John the box and held his breath while John opened it.

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