Catch (5 page)

He didn’t answer. He seemed excruciatingly
young at that moment.

“If you return everything to me,” she said
carefully, “I promise I’ll keep talking to you.”

He let out a soft laugh. “So, you’re laying
down the terms now, even though I’m the one who has what you
want?”

She supposed that was true. “You don’t want
anything from me, then? I guess I’ll just get over my losses and
move on. Keep it all, and if you want my wallet back, here you go.”
She held it out to him, surprised at her response. It seemed the
only way to try to read him at the moment.

He looked down at the wallet and frowned. “I
don’t want that. It’s yours.”

“So is the rest of my stuff you stole.” It
was frustrating how much she was starting to like him and hate him
at the same time.

“The game is still on,” he said as he watched
her lower the wallet. “It’s your turn next.”

Before she could answer, he turned and walked
away. “I’m only here for three more days!” she yelled out as he
disappeared into the crowd.

Turning, she saw that her mother’s gondola
was unloading at the dock. Perfect timing.

She waited the rest of the afternoon for
another message from Ollie, but none came. After dinner, she and
Julia put on their bikinis and went down to the hotel pool. Miranda
found a lounge chair and slathered on some sunscreen.

“That’s why you don’t tan,” Julia scoffed as
she stretched out on her chair and opened her arms wide. “You gotta
let it all soak in.”

“And get a sunburn?” Miranda said as she slid
on her sunglasses and leaned back. “I don’t think so. You don’t
even need a suntan. You should at least protect yourself.”

Julia sat up on her elbows and stared at
Miranda. “You’re really into protecting me, aren’t you?”

Miranda kept looking up at the palm trees and
sky overhead. She didn’t want to think about how in a few weeks
she’d be moving away for good. She would miss Julia so much, and it
was true—she
did
want to protect her. Their parents
generally seemed like they were more into letting their daughters
figure stuff out on their own than trying to prevent them from
doing anything stupid. Once Miranda had turned eighteen, they had
told her she was old enough to do whatever she wanted, whether they
liked it or not. But she had always felt that way. They rarely
pushed anything on her unless it was deeply important to them, like
taking those pictures. What if Julia really did screw up with
Gavin? What if he broke her heart?

“I worry about you, is all,” Miranda finally
said. “Is it a crime to care about my little sister?”

Julia shifted on her chair and adjusted her
bikini top. “Fine, be protective.” She turned around and motioned
for Miranda to rub the sunscreen on her back. It was clear how much
sway Miranda held over Julia, even if Julia acted annoyed about it
half the time.

“So,” Miranda said, “can you keep a
secret?”

“Do I ever not keep your secrets?” Julia
pointed out.

“Okay, okay.” Miranda rubbed some lotion
between her hands and started applying it to Julia’s shoulder
blades. “So, while you were on your little gondola ride this
afternoon, I met Ollie face-to-face. He gave me my wallet.”

Julia spun around, leaving a long, white
streak across her back. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah, and, Julia … he’s … cute.”

“Well, I saw that at the restaurant. What I
could see of him, anyway.”

“Yeah?”

Julia bobbed her head up and down. “Oh, yeah,
totally.”

“But he’s a thief. What do you think about
that?”

Miranda was eager to hear Julia’s answer. She
had to get a second opinion about this. Julia’s eyes clouded over
for a moment.

“He’s returning your stuff, isn’t he? Is he
nice? What did he say to you?”

Telling her the story, Miranda was careful to
leave out the fact that she’d messaged with him the night before.
That felt more private, for some reason. Finally, she let out a
heavy sigh and pushed Julia around so she could finish her back.
“This whole thing is crazy,” she muttered. “I hate every guy I’ve
ever been with. I don’t want to be with one right now, so why can’t
I stop thinking about him?”

Julia giggled. “Because maybe he’s better
than all the others.”

That night in bed, Miranda turned on her side
and kept her phone in her hand. She didn’t want to miss any
messages. She thought about her friends back home. None of them
would understand this. They were all so levelheaded, telling her
that she should probably stop trying to find someone to be with.
“You have college to worry about. You don’t want complications,”
they told her over and over. And they were right.

Eventually, she drifted off to sleep, only to
wake up to the vibrations of an incoming message. She almost shot
up out of bed, but calmed herself. She was only doing this to get
the photos. Nothing was going to happen with this guy. She looked
at his message.

Fortuna.

Oh, yes, it was her turn to find him.
Annoyed, she looked at the clock. It was midnight. Was he serious?
She opened the browser on her phone and typed in
fortuna las
vegas
. The very first hit stated:
Coffee in Las
Vegas|Fortuna Las Vegas|LVH.

LVH was the Las Vegas Hilton. Pulling up her
message app, she typed,
So you’re here at the Hilton?

Yeah. Come downstairs.

She looked up at her family. All of them were
completely out since it had been such a busy day. She typed,
To
do what?

Silly. The game continues. I’ll give you
another item from your purse.

Will it be the pictures?

No.

Ugh, he was stubborn.

Fine. I suppose I could use some coffee.

See you in a few.

She couldn’t believe what she was doing, but
what the hell? One more thing from her purse would be nice.

Slipping out of bed, she pulled a small
T-shirt over her camisole and decided her sweats would have to be
fine for this meeting. She wasn’t here to impress him. She’d be
surprised if he was still in a suit, though. Pulling her hair up
into a messy bun, she tiptoed over to the hotel desk and pulled out
a notebook and pen. She wrote a note that she had gone downstairs
because she couldn’t sleep, and left it on her pillow in case
anybody woke up and wondered where she’d gone.

The elevator was empty and smelled like
cigarette smoke. She leaned against the wall and stared groggily at
the floor numbers as they decreased. Finally, she was at the lobby
and the doors slid open. Bright, gaudy light met her, and she
blinked as she stepped out. She was surprised how busy the place
was at midnight. Even at that hour, people were still swarming the
casinos. As she neared the café, she scanned the tables for any
sign of Ollie. It was a small café, open twenty-four hours. The
tables were dark wood and tall, like stools. Several couples were
scattered around. A group of young guys sat around a table drinking
wine, but none of them looked like Ollie. Where was he?

Then he raised his hand and waved to her. He
was in a back corner, wearing a charcoal Las Vegas 51s baseball cap
and a black polo shirt. He grinned as she approached him. Wow, he
sure was happy to see her.

“Hey, thanks for coming,” he said as she sat
on a chair across from him. A yawn built up in her throat. She
tried to suppress it, but failed.

“I’m sorry,” she said when she finished. “I
was … um, yeah … asleep.”

He leaned forward. “Sorry about that, but you
said you were only here for three more days, so I’ve got to make
use of the time we’ve got. Right?”

She shook her head, trying to wake up. “I
still don’t understand what you—”

“Let me buy you a coffee. Are you hungry?
Want a pastry too?”

Her eyes widened. He was going to buy her
stuff? She considered demanding he hand over the purse item so she
could go back upstairs and sleep, but she knew she’d regret it. She
wanted to talk to him and find out as much as she could.

“Um, sure,” she answered. “Anything Danish is
fine. Nothing with nuts. Regular coffee.”

“Okay, I’ll be right back. Oh, and this is
yours.” He reached down to a leather briefcase at the foot of his
chair and pulled out her mother’s camera. After setting it in front
of her, he left to go order. She picked it up, surprised. The
camera was probably the most valuable item in her purse, worth a
few thousand dollars. She had already figured he wasn’t after money
since he wore nice clothes. So why did he steal?

As she waited, she scrolled through the
photos on the camera. Seeing her and Julia together made her smile.
They had done a good job of capturing the same feel as in their
grandmother’s photos. Maybe she was more grateful to have the
camera back than the photos. Maybe these pictures were just as
valuable.

“Here you go,” Ollie said as he placed a
coffee cup and plate in front of her. He had chosen a big, round
Danish with some sort of fruit in the middle. Her stomach growled,
and she laughed.

“Guess I didn’t know I was hungry.”

“Me too,” he replied, sitting in his chair.
He put a pastry of his own on the table then leaned back and looked
at her. She took a sip of coffee, unsure of what he wanted from her
now.

“So, is your name really Ollie?” she
asked.

He picked up his pastry and took a big bite.
A few flakes fluttered to the table. “Getting right to the
nitty-gritty, I see,” he said after swallowing.

“Well, I … I need to know more about you
before this … relationship … goes any further.”

“Further?” A smile played on his lips.

She waved her hand, annoyed at her difficulty
in expressing herself. “I’m confused about everything, okay? Can
you answer my question, please?”

A sly smile lifted his lips. “Why don’t we
play another game right here at this table? I’ll answer whatever
questions you want—within reason—as long as you win.”

Miranda wanted to laugh, but at the same time
her stomach flipped upside-down. Discovering more about Ollie was a
proposition she couldn’t turn down. “What’s the game?” she
asked.

“Well,” he said, drawing out the word as long
as possible before taking another bite of his pastry and chewing
slowly as he looked up at the ceiling. Miranda bristled a little at
his stalling. Maybe she shouldn’t try to force information out of
him, but why else would he have kept this hide-and-seek game
going?

“Thought of something?” she nudged.

He swallowed. “Yes, I have. I’ll need to get
something, so is it all right if I leave for a few minutes?”

“Um, sure.”

“Great, I’ll be right back.”

She watched as he left the café and
disappeared around a corner. By the time he came back, she had
finished her coffee and most of her pastry. He noticed her empty
cup and went to order her another one.

“Wow, thanks,” she said as he set it down in
front of her.

“No problem. Can’t have you falling asleep in
the middle of our game … although that might be to my
advantage.”

She laughed as he sat down across from her.
“So?” she said. “Where’s this game we’re going to play?”

“Right here.” He pulled a brand new deck of
cards from his back pocket. He ripped off the shrink-wrap and broke
the seal on the box, sliding out the fresh cards. Each card had
“Las Vegas Hilton” printed on the back. He started shuffling the
cards so fast she could hardly keep track of what he was doing.

“You play a lot?” she asked, truly
curious.

The sly smile ghosted across his lips again.
“No questions from here on out—unless you win a round.”

“Of what?”

“War.”

She almost choked on her coffee. “War? That
could take forever before I even get to ask you a question. We’ll
be here all night.”

He glanced at her coffee and laughed. “Is
that a problem?”

It wasn’t a problem, necessarily. But how was
she going to find out much of anything? That was
if
she won
a round, which could take hours or minutes. It was all luck.

When she looked up at Ollie’s expression, she
realized he was studying her. “I’m kidding,” he said, easing her
tension. “Mostly.”

“Oh?”

“You don’t have to win a
whole
game to
ask me a question—just when we hit a war round. Whoever has the
highest card on the fourth card gets to ask a question.”

She nodded, happy that she’d have more
chances this way. The she froze. “Wait, you get to ask questions
too?”

“Well, yeah.” He finished shuffling the cards
and started dealing them into two piles. “Doesn’t seem fair if I
don’t, right?” he asked as her pile grew with every other card he
set down.

“I guess. Just, you know, like you said …
within reason.” There was no way she was going to start spouting
off her whole life history or anything, especially if it came to
past boyfriends.

Ollie finished dealing the cards and Miranda
straightened her pile into a neat stack in front of her. She pushed
aside her coffee and leaned forward, eager to start. Why was
spending time with Ollie so much fun? Whatever the answer was, it
wasn’t something she wanted to dwell on for too long. Soon, she was
so into the game she couldn’t think of anything but the cards and
the first question she would ask if she won. It was a game of
chance. She had to win at least a few times.

“Yes!” she said, fist-pumping the air as she
turned over her fourth card and beat Ollie with a queen over a ten
of spades.

His smile faltered for a moment. “Congrats,”
he said as she gathered up the cards and added them to the bottom
of her pile. “Lay it on me.”

She took a deep breath, knowing she had to
make these questions count. “I know this is probably a stupid
question,” she said, looking into his eyes, “but what is your real
name?”