The Con Code

by Shana Silver

  It reveals he got to me.

  CHAPTER 20

  A loud phone ringing blasts me out of a deep sleep. My eyes fly open, stinging and burning. Hazy light splashes in from the bone-colored sheer drapery while mumbled words echo from somewhere in the room. My head throbs as if I pressed my ear against a speaker at a rock concert. The slam of plastic hitting plastic makes my teeth snap. A phone hanging up?

  I pull the covers over my head and sink deeper into my feathery pillow.

  Hands rip the covers away and shake my shoulders. Colin stands over me, purple crescent moons hanging under his eyes. A mountain of crinkled blankets rises to a peak from his bed. “We have to leave. They’ve started wake-ups.”

  Wake-ups mean head counts. Shit, if they catch us out of our rooms, we’ll be kicked off the tour. And then it’s bye-bye, alibi. Rubbing my wrist over my sweaty brow, I swing my legs over the edge using muscle memory. My head pounds steel-drum hard.

  Colin sweeps his arm over the desk and swipes all my art supplies into my bag. Open paint tubes descend, clacking against one another and likely creating an abstract installation piece no one will ever see inside the bag. A wet squish makes my heart squeeze.

  He reaches for the imitation book.

  “Wait!” My voice comes out all scratchy. “It’s not dry yet. I only finished the cover”—my eyes fly to the clock—“one hour and forty-two minutes ago.” Acrylic paints in burnt umber and sepia blend over the clay surface to give the faux book the perfect look of rot and decay. The dappled texture will give me nightmares for weeks.

  I slide the cardboard that the book sits on toward me gently, dipping my thumbs into paint splatters. The book wobbles, and I grit my teeth, my shaky, sleep-deprived hands threatening to ruin the whole heist.

  “Now’s your chance to really use your stealth-mode skills,” Colin says.

  “And yours.” I raise a brow. “Still waiting to see them in action.”

  “Who needs stealth when you’ve got charm and persuasion?”

  I roll my eyes. “Yes, your cockiness is utterly irresistible to girls with no taste.”

  He plugs a set of earbuds into my phone and pushes each one into my ears. A pair of blue earbuds stream from his own ears. He presses a few buttons on his phone, accepts the call on mine, and in a flash we’re on a three-way conference with silence, or rather, Tig. “We need you to hack the security cams and guide us through the halls.” Colin’s voice echoes a moment later through my receiver.

  No response. I give Colin the side-eye. He’s suggesting the girl who seems to have taken a vow of silence be our GPS announcer? “Because this went so well at the amusement park.”

  “Please?” Colin begs Tig, and I cringe inwardly for him.

  “These must be your excellent persuasion skills in action.”

  He ignores me. “What if next time, I get Fiona and Lakshmi out of your room for the night?”

  The clack of a keyboard echoes through the phone. Deal accepted. A little part of me squeals inside, because what this really means is that Tig wants to be alone with Natalie. Despite sharing a tent while camping, nothing happened between them except a lot of z’s (Tig) and a lot of angst (Nat).

  After two minutes, Tig finally stops typing. I wait for the quiet whisper of the word clear, but instead a text pops up showing a screenshot of our empty hallway. Great, we’re doing the charades equivalent of a daring escape. Colin twists the metal doorknob and pokes his head out, looking left and right.

  Tig clucks her tongue as if to say, You don’t believe me?

  I place one foot in front of the other like I’m walking the balance beam and scoot sideways out the door, sliding my butt against Colin’s crotch because it’s the only way to fit myself and the cardboard through the cramped space. His strong hands brace against my hips to steady me.

  “Which way?” I ask on the off chance she’ll actually answer. There’s a staircase three doors away, another at the far end of the hall, and an elevator directly in between both.

  She makes an uh-uh sound with her throat.

  “None?” The tempo of my pulse increases. All routes must be compromised. “I thought you said it was clear.” My eyes fly to the door behind us, now locked. We can’t stay here, either; we’re sitting ducks. The walls close in on us from all angles, but my criminal mind calculates an exit plan despite feeling like I’m halfway dead. Adrenaline takes over, and I steel myself for the escape. Elevator’s too slow and with too many variables: civilians who may step on and have eyes that can witness things. “Far staircase,” I say.

  Colin tugs on the cardboard. “This one’s closer.”

  “All the camper rooms on my original floor are on this side of the hallway. If we emerge from the closer stairwell, we could be walking right into a trap.”

  As if to confirm, Tig sends a screenshot of Abby pushing open the door to the closer stairway on my original floor, which means she’s on her way up to this one since there are a few camper rooms here.

  I beam a triumphant smile at Colin that earns a laugh from Tig. We march with calculated steps to the far staircase. The book wobbles precariously, and I shift the cardboard to keep it steady, like balancing a marble on a tilting surface. All we need is a trio of lasers sweeping through the hallway to add just a little more danger.

  We reach the end of the hallway just as another door at the opposite end opens. I catch a brief glimpse of Hot Dave’s dark hair and long legs stepping out of the room across from our stolen one as I slip inside the stairwell and seal us in. “That was close.”

  I pause to readjust the book when Tig gasps and slams her hand hard on something, as though to spur us faster like a horse jockey. My legs kick into motion, each step threatening to ruin the whole operation. Colin bypasses his own floor to help me to mine. Sweat glistens on the back of my neck.

  “Is the coast clear on this floor?” I snap.

  The line goes dead.

  I call back, but it just rings and rings. She must have run out of prepaid minutes on her burner. We yank out our earbuds, and Colin cracks his neck side to side before wrenching open the door to my floor. He cringes as he pokes his head out, then relaxes a fraction. “Clear. Thank God.”

  The last few feet to my room feel as dangerous as traversing a minefield. One door opening and this whole operation will explode. I count down like a rocket about to take off. Four steps. Three steps. Two …

  Colin pounds on our door with a fist. I rock in place, keeping a firm grip on the book. When Natalie swings the door open, the relief that seeps from my shoulders is enough to make me keel over. I didn’t get caught, by Abby or the FBI.

  “Aww, how sweet. You escorted her back on her walk of shame.” Natalie winks.

  “Oh thank God.” Lakshmi stands there, wrapped in a towel, black hair dripping. Tig bites her lip and holds up her dead phone, then chucks it into the metal garbage can.

  A door down the hallway flies open. The stairwell. Shit. I bump past Colin, poking him in the ribs with the cardboard, and flee into the safety of the room. Colin squeezes inside after me. A yelp forces me to spin around in my own room.

  Lakshmi tugs her towel tighter around her chest. “There’s a boy in our room!” Her eyes land on my masterpiece. “And a weird-looking book?”

  I clutch my stiff, trembling fingers harder onto the cardboard.

  “Art project,” Colin says fast. “She’s trying to get into a prestigious program for fall.”

  “Yeah, I, uh, need to submit my portfolio by, um, next week.” Oh God. She can’t possibly buy this.

  But then Colin sells it the only way he can. With charm and gusto. “She’s so goddamn talented. I love watching her work.” He glances at me with a look of pure awe that makes my cheeks heat.

  I slide the book beneath the bed in futile desperation that Lakshmi subscribes to the theory of out of sight, out of mind.

  A wrinkle creases her forehead as she glances between Colin and me. “Wait. I thought you two were, like, doing
something other than art projects all night.” A blush spreads on her cheeks—and mine. And Colin’s.

  “We, um, we…” I have to force myself not to say um again. “We weren’t doing art projects all night.” I also have to force myself not to cringe at my horrible delivery. I pat his shoulder in what’s supposed to be a romantic gesture but sends the message of not even buddies instead.

  Lakshmi’s head rotates from him to me with a look that could be the poster child for skepticism.

  “Hey, it’s okay.” Colin turns to me and looks deep into my eyes as he tilts my chin up with the tip of his index finger. “You don’t have to be embarrassed. This is my walk of shame, too.”

  His arms wrap around my waist, and he pulls me closer, so close his breath sends my hair dancing. The flashback of us almost kissing in the rain a couple of months ago comes back in full force, robbing me of air. It was the one time I got played. This time, we’re both complicit. He leans down, and I rise on my toes. This is a con, I tell myself. A quick peck, that’s all. Just enough to sell this.

  But right as our lips meet, there’s a loud knock on the door.

  We scramble out of the embrace, my heart pounding loud in my ears. Colin rakes his hand over his buzzed hair.

  “And now I must hide.” He runs past Lakshmi into the bathroom.

  Lakshmi keeps looking from me to the door with her big brown eyes as if she can’t make sense of what just happened.

  The door bangs, louder this time. “Ladies, it’s Dave!”

  This could just be a routine wake-up call, but if the counselors reached Colin’s room first, they’d be searching for him. Possibly in girls’ rooms … and the most obvious place to hide a stray boy is in the bathroom. Wobbling on shaky legs, I twist the bathroom doorknob and slip inside the steamy room. Colin stands in the center, raising a brow. “Came to finish what we just tried to start?”

  “You know how I feel about bathrooms.” I start the shower. “You may be good at advanced planning, but you need to work on your impromptu skills.”

  Outside, the door swings open. “We’re all here. See?” Lakshmi’s voice shakes like she’s announcing to the entire room she contracted Ebola overnight.

  “I’m in the shower!” I shout. Right in Colin’s ear.

  Silence for a few seconds. Colin and I both stare at the door, our chests stilled. There’s a whole room of space, but somehow we’re standing right next to each other.

  “He’s not in the main room or balcony!” Hot Dave yells, likely to another counselor in the hallway.

  Sweat gathers in the bend of my elbows. Colin’s shoulders tense.

  “Oh, hi, Abby!” Natalie calls way too loud, clearly for my benefit.

  “He could be in the bathroom with her,” Abby says, her accent growing thicker with the volume of her voice. Angry bangs ricochet off the bathroom door. “Fiona, I need to check in there!”

  “One sec!” I shout. “I’m not decent!”

  “Damn straight,” Colin mumbles.

  We both beeline for the shower. Hot water scalds my skin. I cringe and bite my lip as I douse my hair under the boiling stream. He frantically twists the knobs until the water cools. My clothes cling to me, showing off every curve. Little droplets stick to Colin’s eyelashes while his abs poke out of his now-translucent white shirt. Just like that day in the rain.

  He must be thinking the same thing, because of the way he avoids my eyes.

  “Shampoo,” I whisper. He uncaps the travel-size bottle and dumps half the contents over my head. I lather for a few seconds until I get it nice and soapy and alibi-proof.

  “In case you forgot, people don’t wear shirts in the shower…” The smirk playing on his lips would be the perfect target in a shooting range. “Or pants.”

  “Feel free to take yours off.” Instead I stick my head out of the curtain and drape the front over my neck to conceal my tank top. I nudge my spaghetti strap down my shoulder so it appears bare. “Get down so your silhouette doesn’t show through.”

  He lies down on the bottom of the white porcelain basin and covers his eyes against the pounding water.

  Another knock. “Fiona! Now!”

  “Tell her I’m in the gym,” Colin whispers.

  My hand threatens to slide off the knob, but I reach out of the shower and twist it anyway, offering Abby a grand view of my soapy head and nothing else. “Sorry, I was trying to finish.”

  Abby’s eyes narrow as she takes in the scene. Me, in the shower, seemingly alone.

  And a concealed guy, unknowingly sending goose bumps up my legs as his wrist accidentally grazes my ankle.

  “If I ask you to open up, I need you to open up. We can’t find Colton. You wouldn’t happen to know where he is, would you?” The way she says it indicates she’s pretty sure I know exactly where he is.

  I furrow my brow. “Have you checked the gym? He told me last night he was going to work out this morning.”

  “He needs to clear that by me.” She slams the door shut.

  I lean my head against the cold tiles and string my silver charm back and forth on my necklace chain. I might be home free, but Colin still has to get back to his room—post workout, of course.

  He stands up, forcing me to brush my chest against his so I can fit under the showerhead to wash out the shampoo.

  “Look at us”—his eyes trace the length of my body, drinking in all my curves the water has so graciously revealed—“sleeping together, showering together…”

  “Don’t you dare say getting together.” I switch the water to ice cold and step out of the shower as he yelps.

  In order to help Colin get back to his room safely, Natalie quickly disguises him in a long brown wig and the maid’s uniform we used in the Hotel Galvez heist since we’re staying at the same hotel chain. Hopefully his roommates will think the way he escaped Abby’s wrath after our “sleepover” is epic and not … suspicious. When he leaves, I shut the bathroom door behind me and lean against it, heart thrashing, thinking thoughts I should not be thinking. All the feelings I’ve been keeping buried beneath the surface rise, memories of all the glances I’ve stolen in his direction or the smiles that pop onto my lips, unannounced, when I talk to him. After a proper shower, I push my dripping hair out of my face and reapply my thick black eyeliner—my go-to disguise these days. But the problem is I still recognize myself in the mirror.

  CHAPTER 21

  “I’m going to do it. I’m going to kiss her.” Natalie squares her shoulders, balls her hands into fists, and juts her hips out with a runway strut as we walk to the bus two days later. Gray clouds scuttle in the sky like fluffy dust bunnies.

  I blink at her, partly surprised she’s worrying about this and not everything that’s about to go down in less than an hour at a certain guitar center, but Natalie has always been one to prepare for a heist by clearing her mind and focusing on something else. Or, in this case, someone else.

  “You should go for it. She’s definitely into you.” I’ve already told her about Tig’s desire to spend a night without me and Lakshmi.

  She puffs out her chest, the cool breeze sending her long, frizzy (fake) hair flying in all directions. “I’m not going to chicken out this time. I’m not.”

  “I have a lot of rules when it comes to cons, but the most important one is: The only thing you’re going to regret is not trying.”

  She marches onto the bus with a new determination, and I follow after, my steps a little heavier, but I’m not sure why.

  I plop beside Colin, and he gives me a head nod before glancing out the window and watching as downtown Nashville sweeps by outside the bus windows, fog descending over the boxy office buildings. We arrived at a hotel just outside the city late last night, and this is our first chance to see the beautiful city in daylight. Across the aisle, Natalie drops a quick kiss on the tip of Tig’s nose. Wow, I guess when she said she was going to kiss her, she meant right now. Tig captures Nat’s face in her palms, and the kiss turns real. A pang of j
ealousy threads through me, and I find myself inching a little closer to Colin. But I quickly snap back to a normal distance, bending over to dig into my purse to cover.

  As the bus idles at a stoplight a little bit later, Natalie stands up and hovers over us. “Come on, switch with me,” she says to Colin. “I need some girl time.”

  I raise a brow. “Didn’t you just have that?”

  She rolls her eyes. “Of the platonic variety.”

  When Colin stands up and vacates the seat, I feel a twinge in my chest. His cologne still lingers like an afterthought even as Natalie slides into the seat he vacated. “You look like you had a fun bus ride,” I say.

  As the bus resumes motion, she leans into the backrest and sighs. “The kiss was amazing! Butterflies and fireworks and fairy dust and every other magical cliché.”

  “I’m really happy for you.” My voice cracks on the last word.

  Natalie leans back against the velvet seat and swoons a bit. “I feel like myself when I’m around her. She’s bringing it out of me. I’ve never felt more connected to the person I was trying to hide.”

  “Wait. She actually talks to you? Not just glares?”

  “She’s just a very private person, but when she trusts you, she lets you in. She stays quiet to help stay forgettable, and it’s a hard habit to break. But last night, we whispered for hours. She really opened up to me. And so…” Her teeth snag on her lower lip as she fights back a smile. “I want to show her my real face. Not quite yet. But before we find your mom, I think.”

  No wonder the two hit it off: Natalie hides behind her disguises, Tig behind her silence. Yet together, they can be themselves. I nibble on my inner cheek. “Wow.” I swallow hard. For three years she’s been my best friend, my partner in crime, and my wingman. And she’s never once shown me what she looks like without a disguise. Sure, there were pictures of her from before hanging proudly in her living room and showcasing her eighth-grade scowl in all its non-glory. But even at school, she’d always at least conceal her hair. As a fellow con artist, I respected her desire to keep her identity a secret, but I always thought I’d be the first to see.