Conman

Chapter 2: A Game of Masks

The night was quiet as Beau sped down the nearly deserted streets, the hum of his sleek car soothing after the high of a successful con. The memory of the politician's wife handing over that hefty sum of money brought a smirk to his lips. She had been easy to charm, and the rush of pulling off such a feat still coursed through his veins. It called for a celebration, but not the kind that involved a glittering ballroom or a crowd of sycophants. No, tonight, he craved something simpler.

Spotting a small pub tucked away on a side street, Beau decided this was the place. He parked the car and walked inside, the door creaking slightly as he entered. The pub was modest and dimly lit, with wooden beams overhead and a soft murmur of conversation floating through the air. The smell of aged whiskey and tobacco lingered, adding to its rustic charm. It was a world away from the high-end clubs he usually frequented.

Beau scanned the room and saw only one empty seat—right at the bar. With a sigh, he approached and took the seat, nodding to the bartender who quickly set a shot of tequila in front of him. He downed the drink in one go, the burn of the alcohol grounding him, bringing a brief moment of stillness to his otherwise chaotic mind.

"Rough night or celebration?" A deep voice cut through his thoughts.

Beau glanced to his right and was surprised to find a man sitting next to him, watching him with curious eyes. The man was ruggedly handsome, with sharp features and an intensity that was hard to ignore. There was a quiet confidence about him that piqued Beau's interest. He wasn't the type of person you met in a place like this—he seemed almost out of place in his well-tailored coat, his posture straight and self-assured.

"Celebration," Beau replied with a faint smile. "What about you?"

The man nodded thoughtfully. "Same, I suppose. Mind if I buy your next drink?"

Beau raised an eyebrow. This wasn't the usual script for a night like this, but he found himself intrigued. "Why not?" he answered.

The bartender set another shot in front of Beau, and the man raised his own glass in a silent toast before taking a sip.

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. The views and opinions expressed in this work are solely those of the author.

"So, what's the occasion?" Monty asked, his voice casual but his gaze sharp, as if he was reading into Beau's every word.

Beau hesitated for a split second before responding, slipping back into his practiced role. "Just closed a major deal. One of those rare nights where everything falls into place."

Monty nodded. "Sounds like you've got a good head for business."

Beau chuckled, his fingers tracing the rim of his glass. "I like to think so. And you? What brings you here?"

Monty took a slow sip of his drink, his eyes never leaving Beau's. "Work's been...challenging lately. Needed a break, clear my head. Thought a quiet place like this would help."

"Can't argue with that," Beau agreed, leaning back slightly. "Sometimes the simplest places offer the best escape."

They fell into easy conversation, discussing their favorite drinks, the best places in the city to get a decent meal, and the kind of food that perfectly complements a good glass of whiskey. Beau found himself more relaxed than he had anticipated. Monty was engaging in a way that kept him on his toes, without feeling like a threat. There was an ease to their conversation, a natural rhythm that Beau wasn't used to with strangers.

It wasn't until Beau checked his watch that he realized how much time had passed. He had lost track of it, immersed in their conversation, and now the late hour was catching up with him.

"I should get going," Beau said, standing up and smoothing down his jacket. "Got an early morning tomorrow."

Monty looked up at him, a small smile playing on his lips. "Before you go... mind telling me your name?"

Beau paused, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Beau," he answered simply. "And you?"

"Monty," the man replied, his voice soft yet firm, the name carrying weight as though it held more significance than he let on.

They walked out of the pub together, the cool night air a stark contrast to the warmth inside. Beau stumbled slightly as he reached the sidewalk, the tequila finally catching up to him. Monty, ever observant, noticed.

"You're a bit tipsy, Beau," Monty said, his tone teasing but with a hint of concern. "You really shouldn't drive. Let me call a taxi for you."

Beau waved him off, a lopsided grin on his face. "No need. I'll just call someone to pick me up. I'm more prepared than you think."

Monty raised an eyebrow but didn't press further as Beau pulled out his phone and dialed a number. Moments later, Jax's voice came through the line, and after a brief exchange, Beau hung up and slipped his phone back into his pocket.

"He'll be here in a few minutes," Beau said, leaning against the building. "So, Monty, what do you do? We've talked all night, but you never really said."

Monty's expression turned thoughtful, his eyes darkening slightly. "I work for the government," he said vaguely. "Let's just say I handle... sensitive matters."

Beau chuckled, amused by the evasion. "Mysterious. I like that. Keeps things interesting."

Monty shrugged, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Some things are better left unsaid."

The sound of a car pulling up drew their attention. Jax leaned out the window of Beau's sleek black car, his expression a mix of curiosity and mild impatience. "Ready to go, boss?"

Beau nodded, then turned to Monty. "How are you getting home?"

Monty motioned down the street. "I'll catch a cab. Don't worry about me."

But Beau wasn't satisfied with that. He opened the door to the car, then paused, looking back at Monty. "Come on, let me give you a ride home. Consider it repayment for the drinks."

Monty hesitated, glancing at the car, then back at Beau. For a moment, he looked as though he might decline, but then he nodded, a slow smile spreading across his face. "Alright. I'll take you up on that."

They climbed into the car, Jax giving Beau a questioning look as Monty settled in the backseat beside him. Beau just grinned, feeling that familiar rush of excitement—only this time, it wasn't about a con. There was something about Monty that made him want to keep him close, to uncover the layers beneath his calm exterior.

As the car sped through the quiet streets, Beau and Monty continued their conversation, their words flowing as easily as they had in the pub. There was an unspoken connection between them, something that both intrigued and unnerved Beau. And as they approached Monty's apartment, Beau couldn't shake the feeling that this night was just the beginning of something far more complicated than either of them realized.

When they finally arrived, Monty turned to Beau, his gaze lingering. "Thanks for the ride, Beau. I appreciate it."

Beau nodded, his eyes locked with Monty's. "Anytime, Monty. Take care of yourself."

Monty stepped out of the car, but before he closed the door, he leaned down, his voice low and smooth. "I hope we meet again."

Beau watched as Monty disappeared into the building, a strange flutter in his chest. He leaned back in his seat, lost in thought as Jax pulled away. For the first time in a long while, Beau found himself wondering what it would be like to let someone in, even just a little. But he quickly pushed the thought aside.

He couldn't afford distractions. Not now.

And yet, as the city lights blurred past, he couldn't help but think of Monty and the way his presence had lingered long after they parted ways.

This was dangerous.

But maybe... just maybe, it was a risk worth taking.