Page 12 of Hooked

“Kristi,” It comes out like a shriek. “I thought we had something here!”

“I don’t think you’re a vapid fake,” she says, popping the trunk. My uncle comes out of the house. “But I can see someone like Vinny thinking that. He’s a serious guy. Very minimalist.”

She doesn’t say “unlike you,” but it’s there. What’s the virtue in austerity for austerity’s sake? I’ve never understood that. Frugality I understand, cheapness I do not. Life’s too short to be cheap, and I like sharing what I have.

“Give it some time,” Kristi continues. “He knows what you went through to help Oscar. A vapid fake wouldn’t have wrecked her nails keeping an old fisherman from drowning.”

Why should I waste any of my time on him?

“Seraphina,” Uncle Danny says, coming up to the car. “You look so much better.”

“Seraphina?” Kristi repeats, both eyebrows up now.

“Thanks.” Is this because I could’ve died? Is it why he forgave me so easily and calls me by my full name? “It’s all Kristi’s doing.”

“Ah, Ms. Vasquez.” My uncle beams at her. “Saving my niece again.”

“It’s only because she gave us a literal ton of money.” Kristi flashes a shark-like smile. “I’m going to head out to the salvage now.”

Uncle Danny keeps snatching bags from me as I try to take them from Kristi’s trunk.

“Oh, you should be on that team,” he exclaims, turning to me. “No one can pilot a boat like Kristi. Vinny says so all the time, and you know he’s not exactly effusive with his praise.”

“So I’ve noticed,” I deadpan. “Thanks for the leads on the party planning, Kristi. I’ll follow up with you about the liquor order?” I could use some of that liquor right now. I should make something sweet and girly, like a cosmo, just to offend Vinny as much as possible.

“Yep. I’ll get the word out about the big shindig.” She shoots a look up at Vinny.

“You going to cater this thing?” she shouts.

He doesn’t look up from whatever he’s hammering. Whether he can’t hear us or is ignoring us is anyone’s guess.

“He’s an incredible cook. Only serves like two things, but they’re fucking delicious. Anyway, see ya.”

She takes off, leaving us in the driveway.

Two items on the menu? Kristi is right—he’s a minimalist through and through.

“Vinny, you mind giving us a hand?” Uncle Danny calls.

Oh hell no. I don’t need him looking at all my bags and scoffing at my frivolous materialism.

“It’s fine,” I say, slinging bags over my arm. “Kristi gave me something for the scrapes, and I think it’ll help if I move my hands a little. I don’t want them to lock up.”

“You sure, honey? Vinny’s a strong guy.”

“I’m sure. He’s busy.”

Of course, Vinny’s on his way down the ladder anyway, and panic rises in my throat. Who cares what he thinks of me? He can make all the assumptions he wants. But I don’t want to give him more ammunition.

Thankfully I’m wearing the flats I bought as I power walk into the house and carry my purchases up to the third floor. All of the second floor and most of the third floor are guest rooms, but there are some that couldn’t be converted.

That shouldn’t be.

That’s where family stays.

I pile my bags in the corner.

This is Drew’s old room. Part of me thinks I should be upset about it, but it’s surprisingly comforting. We spent a ton of time here as kids. Drew was older than me, but not so much older that he excluded me. We were a fierce duo, until we weren’t.

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