The following afternoon, Eva sat down at her coffee table, reaching into her purse for the business card she had snagged from the mantel at the open house. She opened up her laptop and waited for it to load. She glanced around the living room, sighing as she compared it with the penthouse she’d seen the night before; she almost wished that she hadn’t even gone to the open house. All it seemed to have done was start trouble for her.

Turning her attention back onto her computer, she unlocked the laptop and opened a browser window. Eva typed the Greek man’s name into her search engine, checking the business card twice to make sure she was spelling it correctly. Now, let’s see where I’ve seen him before.

Results came up quickly: a Wikipedia article, along with a long list of headlines. “Well apparently he’s at least somebody,” Eva said to herself, opening results in new tabs. A picture of Ari Christodoulou confirmed at least that the Greek had been who he said he was—something that Eva had, in the back of her mind, doubted.

She began to read, starting with the Wikipedia page. Ari Christodoulou was apparently a very wealthy man indeed; he was worth billions. The son of wealthy parents, he had come to America and expanded on the fortune they had given him. Most of the man’s money had come from an international shipping concern that he’d built up in his twenties. That answers why he would be able to bid tens of millions of dollars without batting an eye, but not why he looked so damn familiar. Eva turned away from the Wikipedia information and pulled up the news items about the man.

A quick look at the headlines informed Eva that “news” about the man mostly centered on his social life; Ari Christodoulou was a person of interest to at least half a dozen tabloids, and as Eva read bits and pieces of the articles on him, it was easy to see why. Billionaire Shipping Magnate Spotted Leaving Exclusive NY Club. Ari Christodoulou Seen with Rising Supermodel. Christodoulou Takes Out Fourth Girl in Two Months.

Eva grinned to herself; the headlines finally put the issue of the man’s familiarity into context. She had heard of him before, seen him in the gossip rags at the supermarket. He was a well-known womanizer, rarely seen with the same date twice, often spotted at clubs, bars, and the most important parties in the city.

She delved deeper into her research, trying to think of a way to get in touch with the man. Eva skimmed articles about Christodoulou’s tumultuous, party-driven life, filing away names and references. She noticed that the most recent gossip stories about him had been a few months before, and wondered what had changed in the man’s life to make him decide to take a break. Addiction? Heartbreak? It was impossible not to wonder.

Eva scribbled a few references down on the pad she kept on her desk, thinking hard about the best way to go about what she wanted to do. She needed to talk to Christodoulou; that much was clear. He had wanted the apartment—and he might, possibly, be able to help her get out of trouble by buying it up, if she put it to him the right way. But the difficulty would be getting him to meet with her at all; not only had Eva not given her real name at the open house until the police had come, but even if she gave the name that Christodoulou would recognize, she didn’t doubt that he’d dismiss her and refuse to meet.

Eva used one of her favorite sites from her grifting days; her credentials still worked on the private investigator site that she’d learned how to use under Jared’s tutelage. She put in Christodoulou’s name and a few details began to come up: people he had been seen with more frequently than once or twice, his preferred haunts, and even a few of the hotels he had previously lived in for weeks or months at a time. Eva compared the list to the names she had scribbled down; it seemed there were a few women in Christodoulou’s life that he might be willing to meet with again.

She quickly narrowed down the list of possibilities; if she were going to pose as one of Christodoulou’s previous ladyloves, it would make sense to pick one she could at least convincingly imitate for a few minutes over the phone. The phone part isn’t that hard. If I can get him to meet somewhere, it needs to be a place where he won’t want to make a scene. A strategy began to come together in her mind and she found a few videos of interviews with one of his previous lovers.

It was almost six o’clock when she unplugged her phone from its charger and checked the number on Christodoulou’s business card one final time. Eva took a quick, deep breath and dialed.

“Hello? Who’s this?”

Eva’s lips curled in a smile and she pitched her voice low, mimicking the woman she was pretending to be.

“Really, Ari? You lost my number so soon?” Eva let her voice ripple with the suggestion of a French accent.

“New phone,” Christodoulou said. “Who is this?”

“Laurette,” Eva said. “I can’t believe you didn’t put my number into your phone.”

“Well, maybe there was a good reason,” Ari said, his tone amused. “You are trouble on two legs.”

“I’m trouble?” Eva laughed, keeping her voice pitched low. “I thought you were the one with the party on speed dial.”

“That might be true,” Christodoulou admitted. “I never expected I would hear from you.”

“Well, I’m in town,” Eva said. “Thought it might be nice to catch up. Besides, I have a proposition for you.”

“A proposition?” Christodoulou clucked his tongue against his teeth. “Considering the day I’ve had, I can’t help but be intrigued. Are you free tonight?”

“As a bird,” Eva replied. “Where can we meet?”

“Let’s say…” Christodoulou seemed to consult something. “Mise en Place, in an hour. I’ll get my usual table.”

“I’d expect nothing less,” Eva said, letting her voice crackle slightly. “One hour. I’ll see you there.”

She barely waited for Christodoulou to say goodbye before she hung up, setting the phone down on the desk once more. She considered the situation ahead of her: she needed to blend in at the restaurant the Greek had suggested.

Eva stood and strode into her bedroom, heading directly for her closet. There were still a few items she’d been able to keep, a few things that hadn’t been taken as evidence of the crimes Jared had committed. She chose her favorite dress from the back of the closet, sighing with a mixture of pleasure and regret at the sight of the lace and fine fabric.

She stripped off her clothes and brought the dress with her into the bathroom. Eva took a quick shower and redid her makeup—not her usual professional, subtle look, but more akin to the way she’d worn her face when she’d been in the game.

Letting her hair cascade around her shoulders, she slipped into the fine designer dress, along with the heels she’d gotten to go with it. Eva looked at herself in the mirror; if she didn’t know better, she’d almost have thought she’d never even left the con world. “Either he’ll hear me out, or he won’t,” she said to her reflection, turning her head one way and then the other. She didn’t think that Christodoulou would make a scene—he would just leave, if he decided not to speak to her. But a man like him would hopefully be at least a little intrigued.