“I’m curious why you want to know?”
His eyes stared into mine again, so I readjusted my body to glance out the window. His stare unsettled me. “I want to make sure I can tell Westley who to go after when he exacts his revenge.”
It was a lie. One I created at the moment. Curiosity actually fueled my question.
Frankie huffed as if he didn’t like my response. “No wife or children. Pelican Bay has enough drama to keep me busy. I haven’t seen fit to date.”
“It’s busy living the life of crime?”
“You have no idea.” The rest of the car ride continued in a similar fashion. We bantered back and forth but shared nothing of substance.
When we reached the famous Navy Pier. The car slowed to a stop and Frankie opened his door, reaching back in for my hand.
“You’re just going to let me walk?” I asked. I took his hand, and the first bit of warm humidity from the late summer stuck to my skin. “What if I scream?”
People milled about the Navy Pier, the crowd streaming around one another. I hadn’t been here since our sixth-grade field trip. In reality, the pier was mostly a tourist trap. I didn’t know any locals who hung out at the pier for fun.
Frankie held my hand in his, making us resemble an unsuspecting couple. “You won’t.”
His words were harsh and left no room for argument. We walked hand in hand into the covered building, and only a few people stopped to cast a glance for longer than the second. It was probably because Frankie once again wore his suit and looked like a snack. From their sideways glances, a few women wanted to indulge.
We reached the entryway to the Ben & Jerry’s store and a big closed sign covered the glass entrance leading into the establishment.
“Oh no, it’s closed,” I said.
Frankie pushed the door open with the smallest amount of pressure. “Not for us.”
We walked into the deserted space together. A few round tables and chairs filled the open area and a long counter of ice cream options took up one entire wall. A lone man stood behind the counter wearing a white apron and a smile.
I placed my order and then, as the world’s most obedient kidnapping victim, took a seat at one of the empty tables. It was eerie being in a store devoid of human life while so many people filled the hallway outside a few feet away. A thick door muffled their voices, but they were still audible. If I had any question about the empty elevator earlier, it had been thoroughly answered. What man from out of town had the pull to get the Ben & Jerry’s closed?
Lost in my thoughts, I pondered the possibility that I’d underestimated this East Coast family reject. Maybe Frankie really was the most dangerous of us all.
It was hard to believe, though, because in the second after I thought that, he sauntered over to the table where I’d made myself at home and handed me a brightly colored ice cream cone. I jerked my head at his selection. A plain mint green scoop in a cup.
“I thought we had to learn to enjoy the little things in life?” I asked, repeating his earlier line.
Frankie peeked down at his ice cream and stuck his spoon right in the middle. “This is my favorite ice cream.”
“But it’s so… boring.” And while the man walked around in a three-piece suit, he wasn’t boring. I saw from the gleam in his eyes he was anything but that.
Frankie leaned in, getting close to me, so close that I froze in fear of what he would do. But when he was a hair’s breadth away, his hands ripped two napkins from the holder beside me.
“When I was ten years old, my parents took me to New Jersey. My father had business to take care of, so my mother, two brothers, and I spent the afternoon at the boardwalk.
“I begged my mother to take us to this little ice cream shop right next to the place where we’d eaten dinner. She finally said yes and let us each get a cone of our favorite. My father met us there after his meeting finished and caught us eating hand dipped mint chocolate chip ice cream. He made each of us toss our ice cream in the trash and told us that the true Zanetti men did not partake in sweets. We were above those things.”
“Oh,” I said, feeling a little bad about making fun of his choice.
He shrugged, as if telling the story wasn’t an intricate look into his upbringing. The mob had weird rules, and I added no ice cream to the list. “Now I eat mint chocolate ice cream as often as I fucking want, and there’s nothing my father can do about it.”
I smiled, a truly genuine one because that was an answer I’d expect from a man like Frankie Zanetti.
We finished our dessert and Frankie even picked up my discarded napkins, tossing them in the trash with his empty cup. “Now what?” I asked, finding myself almost excited to hear what he’d say.
Frankie took my hand and pulled me up from my seat. “Now, my dear, our time has come to an end. I, most regrettably, need to trade you for my ten million dollars.”
My face fell as well as my hopes, and I almost plopped back in my seat. When did I allow myself to forget this wasn’t a date or a chance for him to get to know me? I was still being ransomed. Frankie didn’t bring me here to learn more about my past. We came here so he could trade me in.
