Page 73 of Playing Hard to Get

“Yes,” I said, pointing at him. “That’s the one.”

“Good. That could help. Come on,” he said as he turned to the door. “You're coming with me.”

I followed behind him, wanting to ask where the fuck we were going. But the door was open, and he was at the couch behind Frankie and the girls before I had a chance.

“Frankie, Mitch and I are taking off. I got something back at my place I want him to try.”

“Oh?” Frankie turned and looked at her cousin, then trained her eyes on me. I forced a smile I didn't feel and prayed it looked natural. She turned to Vinny with a crooked frown. “You holding out on me?”

For a moment I was frozen in place, sure that Vinny would spill my secret. That Frankie would find out about me and Viv. That the chaos that was sure to ensue would ruin any chance of reconciliation between me and Frankie, between Vivian and Frankie. Ruin our chance of finding Viv.

But Vinny just smiled. A perfect, warm little smile I’d seen grace his sister’s face a dozen times before. One I knew to be fake even though it looked so real.

“I'll bring you a bottle the next time I come over.”

“You better.” Frankie smiled at her cousin, then turned to me. “Thanks for coming sweetie.”

With a nod, I tucked my hands in my pockets. “Sure thing, Frankie.”

We escaped without any extended goodbyes or questions about where we were going. It was like the man owned the world and could make his way from one place to the next through sheer force of will. We were seated in the back of his Town Car before two minutes had passed.

Vinny pulled at the sleeves of his button up, smoothing the fine blue material into place. I looked out onto the city as we coasted through the evening traffic.

“She really hurt you, huh?”

I pulled my eyes away from the streetlights that flashed by overhead. Vinny sat with his legs crossed, like he didn't have a care in the world. Arm against the armrest. Blond hair flopping in his face.

“You could say that.”

“I hope this doesn't ruin your friendship. You and Frankie have something special, Mitch. You mean the world to her.”

“Yeah?” I swallowed a bitter laugh. She sure had a strange way of showing it. “What she did might not matter after this.”

Vinny turned his head away without another word. After that party on the Fourth, he should know what I was talking about. Frankie's reaction to me staying with Vivian was enough to stop the party and drive a wedge between her and her cousin. One there might not be a recovery from. Vinny was there with me, watching it all go down. He knew Frankie better than me, knew the hell Vivian went through trying to keep that woman happy.

Maybe it was better I saw for myself what kind of person Frankie was. Might make it easier if she cut ties when she found out about me and Viv. Because no matter how much Frankie meant to me, Vivian would always be the one.

* * *

I followed Vinny into a condo that looked like Vivian’s condo’s twin. When she told me they looked alike, I believed her. What I didn’t expect was that they’d look so similar. The layout was exactly the same, only the furnishings different. The leather couch and chairs that sat in the center of the room were a deep chocolate brown, while Vivian’s were a creamy white. Vinny’s area rug was a dark blue with white lines swirled throughout. Vivian’s was its twin in red.

The wall of windows showed a slightly different but still spectacular view. The clean lines of the apartment showcased that view, as if the reason for buying this place was so one could stand at the windows and stare out at the city, night or day. The gray and black kitchen was as spotless as Vivian’s, and I wondered if it was because Vinny didn’t know how to cook either, or if he was the twin who inherited the gene that made him want to pick up after himself in the kitchen.

Vinny led me into the spare bedroom. Where Vivian’s was lined with racks of clothes, a dress form, sewing machine, and tables where she could sketch and create, Vinny’s was full of bookshelves that housed thousands of books, pictures, mechanical and robotic toys, and computer parts. His desk setup reminded me of the one Lee used to have in the living room of the safe house—five computer monitors shining down on a multi-level desk, tucked in the corner with not a paper in sight.

He took a seat at the computer chair and the screens lit up one by one as his fingers floated over the keyboard. Pictures of Vinny and his family flashed across the screens before they disappeared and turned into websites or programs or some other kind of technical mumbo jumbo my brain didn’t understand.

I took a seat on the corner of the bed and watched. Ended up with my head in my hands and my eyes clenched shut as the clock ticked down the hour. With only a few minutes left, Vinny gave a mumbled curse.

“You got something?” I asked, pulling my head up to look at him.

“Ford went to the bar and asked around. The bartender remembers seeing her but doesn’t remember much else. Someone found her cell under the table after last call and they had it in the lost and found in case she came back.”

Running a hand over the stubble on my chin, I stared across the room. “What do we do now?”

“I’ve reached out to Jillian to see what she can tell me. I haven’t heard back yet, but it’s still early.”

“So we wait?”