Squick. "Uh, another time, Gram."
Her dark eyes were merry. Sherry always made her merry, and Al was quick on the refills.
After Al's wife had passed away, my parents had worried he might be lonely, so they'd invited him over for Sunday dinner. Twenty years ago. He'd kept showing up every single Sunday, so eventually we'd adopted him too.
The evidence that Gram and Al were friends with benefits was getting more difficult to ignore.
Mom put her hand on my shoulder and took a deep breath. "Honey, did you truly tell an infatuated billionaire you never wanted to see him again?" She asked this the same way another mother might ask, Honey, do you do the drugs?
"I . . . did." What was it about him that made me behave so unexpectedly? "But I'm going to rope a Canadian whale tonight. I'm turning this all around."
Dad closed his laptop, about to weigh in. He would never get mad at me, but I hated disappointing him. Mom rejoined him on the love seat. They were always tied at the hip, best friends as well as partners. Their fake art canvases leaned against every available wall. "Did Sevastyan hurt you, sweet pea?" He narrowed his fierce blue gaze. "I'll kill him if he so much as--"
"No! He didn't. He's not the type."
"I'll back her on that," Pete said. "He might've been about to wipe the street with my face, but that guy would never hurt a woman."
Our two opinions appeased Dad on the matter.
Karin tilted her head at me. "It seemed like Sevastyan scared you."
Yes! "A little. But it wasn't him." I frowned. "It was kind of him." They were still waiting for an explanation, so I said, "I just don't like who I am when I'm around him, okay?"
"He'll call," Karin said. "Trust me."
Trust me? Everyone had to chuckle.
With a contemplative expression, Al said, "So now ve vait for call to come."
"Don't hold your breath, folks, or you'll suffocate." I tossed my messenger bag on the couch, then hauled my basket to the laundry room. Every Sunday I washed clothes here. Every Sunday Mom made sure to leave the washer and dryer stuffed full for me to process.
Once I'd finally gotten my clothes going, I rejoined the group. I leaned over the playpen to give my little guy a mwah! kiss on his head. Cash blinked his big leaf-green eyes and reached for me with chubby hands, which meant I was putty. I lifted him into my arms, then sank onto my favorite spot on the couch.
The love I had in my heart for this little human staggered me. "You're getting huge! Just between us, you might wanna lay off the beer and hot wings, kiddo."
Blink, blink, gurgle.
As much as I adored this kid, you'd think I'd want some of my own. I'd been prepared to spawn for Brett, but I hadn't looked forward to the prospect.
Cash gurgled again, showing off his first tooth. With those eyes and his dark-brown hair, he would grow up to look just like his father.
Fifteen months ago, Karin had accidentally gotten pregnant by a mega-rich CEO. When she'd broken the news, he'd accused her of a paternity play, and walked away. The catch: she'd truly loved him. The one time she hadn't been conning.
The guy's last name was Walker.
Fitting.
After her baby was born, Walker had started sending monthly checks without a word. So she'd named the guy's son Cash. We all thought that was hilarious.
And if a gal couldn't make a joke when she'd been knocked up and deserted, when could she?
We'd considered sending Walker monthly checks for the sperm. Once we settled the debt and got back on our feet. Speaking of which . . .
I asked Benji, "Is the congressman's package away?"
"Yep. Right now he's watching a surprisingly well-shot video and shitting himself." You have to play to pay.
In our blackmail packages, we demanded total compliance or else we would send the evidence to every major paper in the country (truth). We also warned that if we got any pushback from the blackmailee, Anonymous would add them to their list of high-profile dirt bags to financially destroy (lie).
Though Benji excelled at his job, his artistic talent was wasted on badgers. As a teen he'd wanted to be a wildlife photographer, had continued exploring it in his free time. Before we ran out of free time--
A message chime sounded from my bag; everyone grew quiet. Benji leaned over and took Cash from me. "Check your messages, Vice."
As I dug my phone out, I grew jittery, didn't know what I was hoping for. I glanced at the screen. "It's an e-mail from Brett."
Groans sounded. "Steady Brettie," Pete muttered.
Benji added, "By-the-Book Brett."
I rolled my eyes. "You guys don't even get how ironic it is to call Brett steady and by-the-book. He really wasn't either, was he?" They'd disliked him because he was a law-abiding Muggle who would never understand our secret way of life. The few occasions I'd brought him to family gatherings, they'd been paranoid and miserable with the gull around.
For the longest time, I'd suspected them of running a badger game on Brett to get rid of him.
The woman I'd caught him with had been off-the-charts hot, a legit showgirl. Brett hadn't even known her last name. So what had she been doing at the party we'd thrown?
My grift sense had screamed something was off about the entire situation.
None of my scoundrels had copped to it, so I'd let it go. Maybe my ego had been trying to protect itself by drumming up a conspiracy theory.
"You have to give the guy credit," Dad said. "It's been a year, and he's still not giving up."
"I never understood that relationship." Mom fished for something out of her sewing basket. "I will say this till I'm blue in the face: We're a breed apart. Which means the only mate for a grifter--"
"Is another grifter," I finished for her. Mom and Dad were the perfect example. He'd been the married mark in one of Diamond Jill's temptation scenarios, but he'd been wed in name only--for a scam of his own.
A grifter for a grifter.
I used to balk at Mom's wisdom; now I accepted how right she was. Always watching what I said and did around Brett had gotten exhausting. "If I had a dollar for every time you've told us that, we wouldn't be in so much freaking trouble."
"Hear! Hear!" Gram took another swig of sherry. "But I disagree with the grifter mate theory. You just have to find a fellow who loves you more than life. For a man like that, anyone who thinks to ruin his relationship--such as another woman--might as well be trying to murder him."
Dad grinned at me. "Plus, in my case, I'd have to assume your mother hired a honey trap. She already trapped me once that way."
Mom play-slapped his stomach.
Sooner or later, I'd be forced to check my mailbox, might as well do it now. I opened Brett's weekly message and read:
Tailgate, Fourth of July. You got a lightning bug to land on your palm, and it reflected in your eyes as you laughed. I'd never wanted a kiss more.
I'll always love you, B
I recalled that night. He had kissed me, his earnest hazel eyes glinting as he'd told me how much he loved me. . . .
Then I frowned. Was this ache in my chest even for Brett?
Oh, shit. I was feeling emptiness--because of Dmitri.
"Speaking of gulls who are interested in Vice . . ." Pete turned to me. "How about you text Sevastyan?"
"That'd be an unconventional play," Benji said, his voice lowered because Cash had conked out against his chest. "But then, he's an unconventional mark. Dude owns two of the top fifty highest-grossing tech patents."
Gram sighed. "I don't know what that means, but it sounds just divine. What could he have done in a club that was so bad?" She was still angling to find out.
"I wasn't thinking clearly last night. I was hammered."
"Victoria Valentine!" Gram tsked. "Never drink on a con!"
"Not fair. It was my night off." I set my phone aside and pulled my deck out of my bag.
"When Karin goes to the casino tonight, I think she should scout things out with Sevastyan," Mom said.
"If he's attracted to Vice, he'll be attracted to a woman who looks so similar to her."
Marcia! I cut cards and shuffled. I wasn't going to point out that Karin had already had her shot.
Dad said, "Your mom's right, sweet pea. We should switch primaries--just this once--since you're still getting into the swing of these new cons and he's a unique target."
Mom was more direct. "You tossed away the biggest mark this family has ever had a line on."
Al made a move on the chessboard. "Only in America, with the catching and releasing."
Karin sank onto the couch beside me. "I struck out with Sevastyan, but if you help me find an in, maybe I'd have better luck. Since you're not interested in this guy, you shouldn't mind, right?"
The idea of Dmitri touching my sister . . . his deep voice rumbling in her ear . . .
Bile rose in my throat. Jealousy clawed at me.
"No go," Pete said, saving me from having to answer. "This guy wants Vice. Only her. Trust me." Again a round of laughs. "He seems obsessed. When I stepped between him and Vice, for a second, I thought he was going to kill me."
Recalling his sinister stare gave me chills. "Yeah, something's way off with him. He's pinging my radar left and right." Because he was crazy! Admittedly! He talked to himself and handled confusion "badly." His likes included spanking strange women and humiliating them in nightclubs.
"Has he lied to you?" Dad asked.
"Not a single time. Still, something is wrong with him." I was about to add, "Trust me," but stopped myself.
"We're not asking you to marry him," Mom said. "We simply need you to fleece him for as much as humanly possible in the next couple of weeks."
Al said, "Type on phone to man. Tell heem you had change of heart."
Dad cast me an encouraging smile. "We wouldn't ask this of you if the alternative wasn't so daunting."
"Daunting?" Pete crossed his arms over his chest. "Is that what we're calling murder?" He faced me. "'Cause that's what Uncle Joe is looking at if we miss the payoff."
Frustration welled. "Then we need to run!"
Cash woke in Benji's arms and yawned, taking in the scene.
"This is our home." Dad's tone was firm. "These are our people. That's our absolute last play."
I shuffled. "Even if I reestablish contact with Dmitri, how do we monetize it? And every second I waste with him, I could be targeting another guy. Pete's got those whales coming in--"
Another chime sounded. Again everyone tensed. Holding my breath, I put down my cards and checked my phone. "It's him."
Gram exclaimed, "Oh, thank Lady Luck!"
"What did he write?" Karin scooched closer to me.
"'I will pick you up for dinner at seven.'" Excitement surged inside me, and I feared our desperate situation was only partly to blame.
Pete said, "I like it. Direct. No explanation. No rehashing."
"What do we write back?" Mom rose, beginning to pace. "We need more engagement. Lots of question marks, Vice. Flirty, but not too flirty."