George continued to focus on the guitar. He reminded me that they still needed six more days to arrange the funds. Payment would be in cash, because he preferred to make these deals with as little oversight as possible.
George asked that we do the exchange at his home in Bel Air. He gave me another card and wrote his home address on the back. The man was clearly relishing the moment, happy to be doing this deal.
I was also happy. The con was on and would be over in less than a week. I wouldn't have to deal with Alejandro anymore, which would make this so much easier. And Bea would be delighted with cash-she hated electronic funds transfers. An attaché case full of cash always caused a celebration when I was young. If I could find that blackmail evidence, I could even leave town safely.
I packed up the guitar and headed to the door. The sooner I got out of there, the better. Alejandro was also happy but for a different reason. "You're coming out with me tonight, Deborah."
Oh, right. I'd forgotten that he'd said that yesterday. Well, maybe I hadn't forgotten, but I'd tried to put it out of my mind because it didn't make any sense. I assumed that he'd forget all about it. But he hadn't.
It seemed like a thoroughly bad idea, so I tried to beg off. "Oh, come on. I know you were just teasing me yesterday. I've done some checking on you, and you're always with beautiful models and sexy movie stars, not someone like me. Wouldn't you prefer to be with your real fans?"
"My real fans bore me. You can help me forget them." He stepped closer to me and held my face with both hands, caressing my cheeks and sweeping strands of hair away from my forehead. "I'd rather spend time with you."
Whoa, he needed to stop this now! Even his gentle touch was exciting me. And the intensity of his eyes as they roamed over my face made it impossible for me to think straight. "No, I can't." I pulled away, just in time, avoiding his gaze. Any longer, and I would have thrown him to the floor and kissed him madly.
Alejandro shook his head with a smile. "Sure you can. Give me your phone." Unable to resist his request, I handed over my phone and watched as he programmed his number into it. "There. Now you have something valuable: my personal phone number. You have to go out with me." He grinned. "Give me your address, and I'll pick you up at seven. Perhaps you can give me a tour of your mother's attic. I bet your uncle left other valuable items there, too."