listed with an agency for administrative office work, and they usually have work for me in the area of The Loop several days a week. The tasks of the job itself are often tedious, but I’m more than happy to be working and meeting so many new people since I’m sent to different companies almost every week. And I’m always free to refuse a job, which I sometimes do on the days that I miss Luca most.
Occasionally, on random mornings, I wake up, and the ache is just as bad as when he took me home during the summer. Sometimes I succeed in not thinking about him, but then something small happens that reminds me of Luca.
I’m also attending a course, Italian for Beginners , every Tuesday night because I discovered that I want those Italian words to roll off my tongue. Maybe it’s a bit masochistic, but who cares? I’m broadening my horizons. I did pick up a lot of words and short, simple sentences while I dated Luca; he would translate for me anytime I asked.
And I’m still addicted to Charmed . I’ve watched every season and even watched season two again, the season that revolves around my favorite character, Cole.
My phone vibrates in my hand: no caller ID. I hate calls without caller ID. I usually let it go to voicemail, but I have to answer it because it could be one of the companies I’ve applied to.
I sweep the screen with my finger. “Fallon Michaels.”
“Michaels, it’s Kelli Ann Collopy.”
I halt mid-step, and the person behind me almost crashes against my back then mutters gruffly while passing me by. Wade contacted me several weeks ago confirming they were closing the case due to lack of evidence, so I have no idea why she would be calling me.
“We’re re-opening Alex Gentry’s case, and it looks like you’re going to be our number one suspect.”
I’m still standing, stunned, in the same position in the middle of sidewalk.
“How? Why is it being re-opened? And why isn’t Wade calling me?” Fear instantly floods my mind.
“Stop with your incessant questions!” Collopy yells, shocking me. “The point is, you need help, and I can give it to you. I can make all your troubles go away if you pay me thirty thousand by tomorrow.”
I’m now taking slow, unsteady steps forward. This is ridiculous. She calls me to blackmail me, but I can tell she’s nervous by the tremble in her voice. I’ve only met this woman once, but she came across as poised and controlled then. What should I do? Just when I thought this was all beginning to blow over, something from my past with Luca comes back to haunt me. Since I have absolutely no idea what I’m supposed to do, I’m wondering whether or not I should contact him. Or was this what his money was for? I distinctly remember him telling me a few times that I would need that money, but I assumed that referred to the fact that I was unemployed. Taking a calming breath, I palm my head. I’m not just going to pay her off this easily.
“I don’t have that kind of money.”
“Then you better get it. You have twenty-four hours and don’t even think about getting help from DeMiliano. He won’t help you, you know. He just throws them away after he’s done,” she declares with bitterness dripping in her tone. “Twenty-four hours, and I’ll call you again to let you know where to transfer the money to.” The call ends.
I consider the fact that Luca knows Collopy intimately, and a pang of misplaced possessiveness hits me. Why did she mention him? How do these two know each other?
I keep moving forward with my phone pressed against my ear, staring at the sidewalk. I’m standing in front of the coffee shop window, and the initial shock from Collopy’s call is immediately overruled. Inside, sitting at our table, right by the window with an espresso, is Luca.
He glances sideways, and when he looks directly at me, the entire world around me fades away. Why is he in our coffee shop? Has he been here often since we broke up? Is he here because this is
Occasionally, on random mornings, I wake up, and the ache is just as bad as when he took me home during the summer. Sometimes I succeed in not thinking about him, but then something small happens that reminds me of Luca.
I’m also attending a course, Italian for Beginners , every Tuesday night because I discovered that I want those Italian words to roll off my tongue. Maybe it’s a bit masochistic, but who cares? I’m broadening my horizons. I did pick up a lot of words and short, simple sentences while I dated Luca; he would translate for me anytime I asked.
And I’m still addicted to Charmed . I’ve watched every season and even watched season two again, the season that revolves around my favorite character, Cole.
My phone vibrates in my hand: no caller ID. I hate calls without caller ID. I usually let it go to voicemail, but I have to answer it because it could be one of the companies I’ve applied to.
I sweep the screen with my finger. “Fallon Michaels.”
“Michaels, it’s Kelli Ann Collopy.”
I halt mid-step, and the person behind me almost crashes against my back then mutters gruffly while passing me by. Wade contacted me several weeks ago confirming they were closing the case due to lack of evidence, so I have no idea why she would be calling me.
“We’re re-opening Alex Gentry’s case, and it looks like you’re going to be our number one suspect.”
I’m still standing, stunned, in the same position in the middle of sidewalk.
“How? Why is it being re-opened? And why isn’t Wade calling me?” Fear instantly floods my mind.
“Stop with your incessant questions!” Collopy yells, shocking me. “The point is, you need help, and I can give it to you. I can make all your troubles go away if you pay me thirty thousand by tomorrow.”
I’m now taking slow, unsteady steps forward. This is ridiculous. She calls me to blackmail me, but I can tell she’s nervous by the tremble in her voice. I’ve only met this woman once, but she came across as poised and controlled then. What should I do? Just when I thought this was all beginning to blow over, something from my past with Luca comes back to haunt me. Since I have absolutely no idea what I’m supposed to do, I’m wondering whether or not I should contact him. Or was this what his money was for? I distinctly remember him telling me a few times that I would need that money, but I assumed that referred to the fact that I was unemployed. Taking a calming breath, I palm my head. I’m not just going to pay her off this easily.
“I don’t have that kind of money.”
“Then you better get it. You have twenty-four hours and don’t even think about getting help from DeMiliano. He won’t help you, you know. He just throws them away after he’s done,” she declares with bitterness dripping in her tone. “Twenty-four hours, and I’ll call you again to let you know where to transfer the money to.” The call ends.
I consider the fact that Luca knows Collopy intimately, and a pang of misplaced possessiveness hits me. Why did she mention him? How do these two know each other?
I keep moving forward with my phone pressed against my ear, staring at the sidewalk. I’m standing in front of the coffee shop window, and the initial shock from Collopy’s call is immediately overruled. Inside, sitting at our table, right by the window with an espresso, is Luca.
He glances sideways, and when he looks directly at me, the entire world around me fades away. Why is he in our coffee shop? Has he been here often since we broke up? Is he here because this is
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