Con Artists

Kit waited in the dance hall for Vanessa. He had seldom met her, but he was well aware of who she was. To a random person on the street, she was nobody. But to people like Kit, she was a legend. She was one of the greats of their generation. The heist that had truly made her mark was when she had stolen 20 million dollars from the Duke of Lamrough and left him dumbstruck as to what happened and when it took place.

He was not considered as just a stupid heir, and it was difficult to fool such a man, but if anyone could do it, it was Vanessa.

Kit had been waiting for half an hour, but he would wait the whole day if it meant getting to see and possibly dance with Vanessa. No one knew her last name. Vanessa might not even be her real name; it would be completely understandable and maybe even smart to not disclose her real name, considering her occupation.

Finally, she walked in. Her long, flowing peach coloured ball gown trailed behind her. Her heavenly brown hair was pinned delicately at the back but flowing freely for the most part. A small gold crown of leaves on her head perfectly complemented her look. She had a tendency to never seem ill-dressed, never the impression that she had left her house in a hurry. It was unfair how to put together she looked every time someone saw her.

Kit was admiring her beauty, but soon realised he was staring and stopped. He turned his attention to the drink in his hands. He double-checked his white shirt and cream embroidered suit for any indication that he had been clumsy that evening, and thankfully found none. He looked up to see Vanessa walking directly towards him and flashed his most coy smile at her. She smiled back graciously and extended her hand to him. He held it like it was the most precious and delicate article in the world and kissed it in the same manner. The waiter approached her, and she instinctively picked up a glass of sparkling champagne.

“I was about to lose hope,” said Kit.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Kit, I would never leave you hanging like that.”

“You say that with a startling amount of confidence.”

“Unearned?”

“One might argue.”

“Can’t say I would blame them.”

She sipped her drink. “Would you like to dance with me?” she asked him.

“I would be delighted.”

He took her drink and placed both glasses on a nearby table. He then offered her his hand, and she placed hers on his. They walked to the dance floor as their eyes turned to them. Men and women ogling with longing and jealousy. They paid the crowd no attention and walked hand in hand right in the middle of the dance floor. They faced each other; hands still held, she placed her other hand on his shoulder, and he respectfully held her waist. They danced slowly to the soft music, looking into each other’s eyes.

“I never asked, how did you manage to pull off the Schendel work.”

“Ah, Mr Warren, you are asking me to spill my precious secrets.”

“Oh, what’s one robbery among friends?”

“You would be surprised.”

“I see you have experience with this. That’s alright, I won’t press you on it.”

“Thank you, I appreciate that.”

Vanessa looked around the room. Kit could not reach a definite conclusion for this, he simply assumed she preferred to remain aware of her surroundings at all times. After a moment she looked back at him with the same sweet smile she had greeted him with.

“Do you always do that?” Kit asked.

“Oh, you noticed that? I’m sorry, I should give you my whole attention.”

“No, it’s fine. One can never be too sure.”

“Good, you understand. Now, was there a particular reason I was invited here this evening?”

“Well, I promised myself I would try to avoid talks related to business this evening but it feels like that vow needs to be put on hold. Well, the talk of the town remains Ms Humphrey. I’m sure you know of her?”

“Recently divorced, rich beyond her years and does not seem to stop anytime soon? Wouldn’t miss her in my sleep.”

“She is rumoured to be a little…unguarded, let’s say, with the way she handles her business.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

“I’m not the only one who’s noticed this.”

“Well, what’s victory without a little competition?”

“Not as sweet, but I was hoping to be as equipped as possible before entering the belly of the beast.”

“Mr Warren! Are you asking me to help you cheat in the contest?”

“I prefer to think of it as thorough preparation.”

“Think of it however you want, it doesn’t change the reality of the situation.”

“So, are you going to help me?”

“It is a tempting offer, but I didn’t get this far by mere offers. I want appreciation for my work, and it needs to be considerable.”

“I can give you a fair cut.”

“And what is a fair cut by your standards?”

“Well, I can’t give you a number before I’m sure of how much I’ll be making myself.”

“I don’t usually collaborate before knowing exactly how much I would be benefitting.”

“You don’t collaborate at all.”

“So you realise how much of a risk I’m already taking.”

Kit sighed.

“I’ll give you a definite number,” he said.

“But you don’t know if you’ll make it back.”

“You won’t agree to it anyway, so I’ll go out on a limb here and risk losing possible profit.”

“Well, Mr Warren. You seem clear-headed enough for my liking.”

“So, we’ll work on it?”

“You have my word. But first, let’s finish this dance.”

“I would like nothing better.”

They turned their heads to look in opposite directions, and Vanessa rested her head on his shoulder. Kit held her close, looking down admiringly at her peaceful state. He would finally get to work with her; spend days together trying to come up with the best solutions for any possible problem. They would think together, in different ways, about the same thing. They would learn from each other, and about each other. Nothing could make that night more special.