The couple disappeared into the crowd. Jake watched them go.

“Wallbrook just landed a big promotion,” he said. “Head of a research lab.”

“Is that right?” North said.

Jake downed some beer and lowered the bottle. “Came with a big raise, too. Earns a hell of a lot more than a cleaner does now. It’s that damn PhD after his name. Kimberly thinks he’s Mr. Right.”

“He’s not,” Sierra said. She snapped her locket shut. “At least, not for her.”

Jake scowled. “What makes you say that?”

“Intuition. I’m pretty good at figuring out that kind of thing.”

North raised his brows.

“Except when it’s personal,” she added quickly. “Jake, if you want my opinion, you should ask Kimberly out on a date.”

Jake looked dumbfounded.

“She’d never go out with a guy like me,” he finally managed. “I dropped out of college in my junior year to go into security work at the Foundation. She’s a scientist with a hell of a lot of fancy degrees.”

“You never know,” Sierra said. “Worth a try. I think you two would be an excellent match.”

Jake looked as if he was about to argue the point. Instead he turned thoughtful. “I’ll let you guys have some time together. Your first real date, right?”

“Right,” North said, putting some emphasis on the word. “We’ve been a little busy lately. Haven’t had time to get to know each other.”

Jake chuckled. “Hint taken. Consider me gone.”

He headed off into the crowd. A silence fell on the booth. Sierra cast about for a safe topic.

“How does it feel to finally know what you want to do with the rest of your life?” she asked.

North leaned back and looked at her over the rim of his whiskey glass. The energy in his eyes and in the atmosphere around him sent a zingy little thrill through all of her senses.

“Feels good,” he said. “I think.”

“You aren’t sure?”

“Let’s just say I’m still working on the logistics of the situation.”

“What logistics?” she asked.

“Me working here in Las Vegas. You in Seattle, working at the Vault. That puts us about a thousand miles apart.”

“Yes, it does,” she agreed. “Where are you going with this?”

“It occurs to me,” he said, speaking in a very careful, even manner, as if each word was potentially risky, “that you could work as a go-between for the Foundation museum. They collect artifacts from all over the world. They are always in need of people who have the kind of talent it takes to authenticate the objects. I’m not saying the museum would pay better than the Vault, but there is a nice benefits package and the working conditions would be safer.”

“Is that right?”

“You wouldn’t have to operate on your own,” North said, warming to his argument now. “You’d have the backing of other members of the staff and even a team of cleaners on jobs that might be dangerous. No more midnight runs to deliver hot artifacts to crazy collectors on your own.”