It wasn't that I didn't have feelings for Jordan. She was a beautiful woman and certainly spirited. I shook my head, wiping my hand through my hair and wishing we'd never run into Jordan Banks. But there was part of me that said, once again, I was lying to myself.
Getting out of the Jeep, I closed the door behind me and went back inside. Felix had laid the swords on the table, each of them gleaming in the dim light from the windows and the stove. "What are you doing?" I asked Felix, whose face was impassive, with no traces of our argument in his eyes. "I thought we'd prepared them already."
"We had, but I wanted to double check before we seal them up for transport," he replied. "Jordan wanted to use your guitar, she's in the bedroom."
I nodded, watching as Felix carefully picked up one of the blades. He was wearing silk gloves so as to not leave a single bit of oil from our skin on them. Next to the table were the packing crates, where each blade was going to rest on the trip out of the country. An inch wide plastic case would house each blade inside an oil bath, making the blades both undetectable to normal scanning techniques, but also insulated against temperature as well as protected from harmful exposure to oxygen. What the buyers did with them I didn’t care, but Felix and I both guaranteed that the swords would be unharmed in our possession. It’s a point of personal pride, nothing we steal is ever harmed in our possession.
Leaving him in the main room, I went into the bedroom, where Jordan was checking the tune on my guitar. "You handle it better than I do."
She looked up, smiling sadly. "I guess so. It’s a fine instrument, even if it is a bit different than mine."
Jordan looked down, and started to hold the guitar out to me but I waved it off. "No, please. I'm slightly jealous of Felix, actually. He's heard you play while I haven't yet."
"Then let me get this tuned up, and I'll play some for you two," Jordan said. "But on one condition."
"What's that?" I asked.
"You make dinner. Despite Felix's assurances, you are a far better cook than he is."
I chuckled, then leaned back, laughing. "It's nice to hear someone say I'm better than Felix at something at least."
Jordan stopped her tuning and looked at me quizzically. "What do you mean?"
I shook my head. "Felix has always been the superior one. He’s bigger, more intelligent, the natural leader, everything. About the only areas I seem to surpass him are in getting into trouble, smooth talking young ladies, and now it seems, cooking. It's good to know I have at least one positive trait I’m better than him in."
"Ladies man, huh?"
I blushed at my faux pas, and shrugged. "I've been accused of being one, but I'd like to maybe someday be the man that my father expected me to become."
"Which is?" Jordan asked.
"If I can’t be a King of the Gypsies, I can at least be the Prince of Thieves," I replied. "Not that Felix isn't bad, but he wants out of this end of our lineage. He wants to be like Father was after he met our mothers, an aristocratic gentleman, working to better the lives of our tribe." I laughed. “Me, I'm more like young Father, wanting to cut my teeth and prove myself as the best damn thief this world has ever seen."
"Why?" Jordan asked quietly. "It's not exactly the sort of thing you can put on your resume."
I turned my head and smirked. "You still have much to learn about us, Jordan."
I got up off the bed and went to the door. "I look forward to hearing your playing when you're ready. I will prepare dinner."
* * *
Jordan didn't come out for another hour, and, in fact, closed the door to the bedroom for most of the time. The door was thin enough that Felix and I could hear the occasional strum or finger pick of notes, but not enough for us to discern what she was playing. "I think she wants to put on a concert for us," I said to Felix, who slid another blade into its traveling case before latching it down. "Perhaps she thinks it’ll sway our decision. She wants to come with us, you know."
"I know," Felix said. "Regardless, I have made my decision. Nothing she does tonight will sway my thinking."
"That sounds more like the man I call my brother," I replied cheerfully. It seemed my concerns earlier had been just phantoms, building on my own feelings as well. "Come, let me put together a feast for all three of us, and then after dinner, maybe Jordan will play for us. Or with us."
"Francois, choose your words carefully," Felix said warningly. "You were right earlier in that I do feel something for her."
“As do I, Felix. Why do you think I'm trying everything in my power to create a mental separation already?" I shot back. "If you haven't noticed, it's a pattern of mine."
"I've noticed," Felix replied, his eyes full of condescension. He may be my brother, but he's also an arrogant ass a lot of the time.
Before I could reply, though, the door to the bedroom opened, and Jordan came out with a tentative smile. "Hi, guys. Uhm, I kind of decided on some songs I could play, if you guys want to sing along that would be great."
"Perfect," Felix answered with a huge smile. "But first, Francois and I were thinking let's have dinner. The guitar can be the evening's entertainment."