~Taste~ (Vincentã—Rody) Cousin?

{Rody}

   I sat in the cold, grim, and dark office in the bistro. I could hear the customers outside and the restaurant bustling. Vincent had put a black wig on me, eye color changing contacts, and sunglasses. He also had me wear some more of his style. He’d reintroduced me as “Landon Charbonneau”, his cousin that he was letting be in charge of the bistro for two days. It went pretty well. Sure, there were skeptics, but there always are. Oh, and he made me wear gloves. I don’t know what that’s all about. It’s not like the chefs have my DNA or are trying to prove Vincent a liar. I went to close my eyes for a bit, when I heard a soft banging noise. My eyes shot open, and I glanced towards where the noise came from. There was a wooden case in the corner of the room, with a padlock on it. I stared at it for a moment. …That’s probably not important. Don’t go snooping, Rody, that’s how you ended up in this mess. I paused for a moment. Was it really that bad of a mess? I mean.. No. No. Stop it. I sighed quietly. I crossed my arms behind my head and leaned back in the chair. I started closing my eyes again, when I heard another bang from the cabinet. I glanced back over towards it. I.. I swear to god if this is a small sized child.. I hesitated, then rummaged through his desk drawers, till I found a small key in between two notebooks. 

   I picked it up, and walked over towards the small cabinet, looking down at it for a moment, before kneeling in front of it. I inserted the key, and twisted it till a soft click. Placing my hand on the lid, I prayed it wasn’t a half dead child, or some crap. I closed my eyes, sighing softly, before opening them, and quickly lifting the lid. I felt my heart leap with relief as I saw it was only papers. But it was only for a moment. 

   “-Love M”

   “-Sincerely M”

   “-From M”

   I gently set the key down on top of the cabinet, and sifted through the papers. There had to be dozens, no more than that, of letters signed by Mannon. I didn’t want to read any of them. I knew if I did I’d regret it. But part of me had to know why the hell Vincent had letters from Mannon. What the fuck did they have to write about before she was killed? 

   “Dear Mr. Charbonneau, I received your offer for dinner! I am sorry, but I cannot make it on that date. Could we possibly set a new one? I am free this Saturday. See you then.

-Sincerely M”

   “Dear Mr. Charbonneau, Thank you for the delicious meal last night. It’s rather alright that you were late to dinner, I didn’t mind! My parents speak highly of you, even though my father is skeptical. When I came back to my house, though, my phone line was cut and my phones fried. Please, do not feel like any of this is your fault, I’m sure the police I contacted can get the criminal! But, I just wanted to let you know so that you wouldn’t be bothered by so many letters. 

-Love M”

   “Dear Vincent, I heard you hired Rody? That’s splendid!! Could you please tell me his work hours so I could see him one day? I can’t contact him via phone, as said in my last letter, and I’d hate to show up to his house unannounced. I feel like it would be more natural and easier to flow into a renewed friendship with him that way. Any help at all will be appreciated!

-Love M”

   “Dear Vince, I will gladly meet you there. I’m sorry to hear that Rody hasn’t been coming into work lately.. I read he’ll possibly be there with you. Thank you for supporting this!!

-Love M”

   I glanced at the rest of the letters as well, but it just seemed to be friendly banter back and forth. Well, I couldn’t exactly see Vincent’a since they were not here. “Mr. Landon?” I jumped, and quickly shut the cabinet drawer. I looked towards the door, where the light of the restaurant pooled in, and there stood one of the chefs. “Oh- Uhm, yes?” I asked, trying my best to fake a voice, while hiding my own distress. “One of the chefs had to leave early, could you please not tell Mr. Char? The chef had to leave to be at the hospital for the birth of his first kid, and you know how Mr. Char gets.” I thought about it, my mind going when he shoved one of the chef’s faces nearly into the stove top fire. “Um, yeah, I won’t tell-!” I answered. The chef smiled at me, boeing subtly, before leaving the office. 

   I sighed a bit, relieved. I glanced back down at the cabinet, and at the four letters that showed as my proof. As my source material for my questions. He’d be back after tomorrow. I’d try then.

3 hours later…

   I entered the apartment, ripping the wig off as I did. I didn’t like the feeling of it on my head, but I dealt with it throughout the day. I went over to the sink, and poured myself a cup of water. What if it was flipped? And I had to hide Vincent as my cousin? I snickered a bit at the thought. Vincent with ginger hair would be a sight to see. Oh crap, the eye contacts- I set the cup of water down, and walked into the bathroom, not bothering to close the door behind me. I would only be there for a second. I looked at myself for a bit. The eye color had gone well with the black hair, but looked horrible with my ginger hair. Or maybe I just wasn’t used to it-

   “Look, Vince, I understand the need for a wig, but eye contacts? Really??” I whined, as I watched Vincent go through different colors of eye contacts that weren’t open yet. “Lamoree, are you really questioning me about my methods? Do you want someone to recognize your face? A wig alone will not help you hide your identity. Contacts will help full proof it.” He said, not even looking up from his search. “I know, but aren’t I going to be in your office that whole time? And no one is looking that close anyways.” “Just wear them. I won’t be able to be here if someone does recognize you.”

   I carefully took out the contacts, and put them in the little container. He had left in such a rush that he hadn’t even said bye when he left the bistro this morning. And this was the first time I had ever heard about his family. Is he even close with them? I shrugged a bit, and looked back at my appearance. It looked much better without the contacts. 

   I sat on the couch as I let my mind wander. I wasn’t even watching the TV at this point, it was only there to aid my zone out. Subconsciously, I let my hand go down to my pocket, where I had folded up the letters, and kept them. I knew I should have known better than to snoop by now. But now that I think about it, I never understood how Mannon actually was targeted. In what way was she connected with Vincent? How did Vincent know of her before me? How long did he know her? I laid my head back against the couch, closing my eyes to rest a bit. It felt like my head was spinning and going miles per hour to find an answer, that I knew I wouldn’t get till Vincent was back. When I opened my eyes again, I noticed an odd shadow being cast. I quickly whirled my head towards the only other source of light, other than the TV. Up on the windowsill was a black cat. Or more like a tuxedo cat. It stared at me intently. “Oh, hey kitty-” I cooed a bit. I wasn’t much of a cat person, I was more of a dog person. But company was company. I carefully got up and walked over to the open window. The cat didn’t move or look on edge from me moving closer. It just kept looking at me with its green eyes. “Aren’t you pretty?” I smiled. I quickly went to the kitchen, grabbed a bowl and filled it with water, before returning and setting it near the windowsill. Still, the cat watched, but after a moment, it hoppes down, and started drinking from the bowl.

   I knelt beside it, and gently pet its back. Softly smiling, I spent the rest of the night with the cat.