Stood outside of the large grey LAPD building and taking in the fresh air, staring at nothing in particular. The damp air inside the building was making me nauseous. How do the cops survive in there? Or was it just me?
My phone suddenly buzzed in my front jean pocket, jolting me out of my daze. I took it out and looked at the caller ID.
I had made a purchase a few days ago for a black Kawaii dress. It wasn't anything special but just in case something comes up. And what do you know, it was the right timing.
After I took the number from Marlon, I thought about taking the person out on a date. Only it won't be an actual date, but a one-on-one conference. The least I could do is pretend I was desperate, lure the guy to think I was interested and from there, find a way to choke information out of him. Not the smartest idea, but it sounded better in my head when I was thinking about it. Maybe I would cook another as I drive to the boutique.
"Louise!" I said with my usual coldness after I received the call.
"The dress is ready, Becca!" He said with his usual cheerful tone.
Louise, a gay designer and the owner of Louise boutique, was the only one I trusted with my fashion. His designs or stocks were exquisite and really unique. He knows what people want and uses his hands to make their dreams a reality.
"Good! On my way!" I said bluntly hanging up and walking towards my car.
I made it inside the boutique, clanking my heeled boots on the brown polished parquet floors. The cool fresh air breezing from the A.C settling my nerves, dissipating the stench from the police department out of my system.
Louise came from the back, walking right towards me. He had worn a pair of red floral pants, a black lace spaghetti and some black loafers. His short blonde hair was messy and well trimmed.
He smiled at me and said,"Right this way, Becca!"
I followed him as he led me to the fitting rooms.
"It's all yours." He said then left.
I stared at the gorgeous dress, hanged just above the mirror. It was perfect. Short, for flexibility if fighting was necessary and black, just my taste.
I quickly changed into it, ready for what I had planned for later.
Louise suddenly joined me.
"OMG! It definitely suits you ma'am. Oh! I'm so proud of myself." He said dramatically, leaning on the wall and fanning his face with his hand.
I coudn't agree more.
I stepped out of the boutique, walking along the sidewalk towards a coffee shop nearby where I had left my car. The boutique was structured in a place where either there was no parking space available or parking was impossible. The one behind marking the parking lines did a very terrible job.
In hand, I carried a shopping bag, in it my previous worn clothes, my phone and car keys. I took out my phone and dialed on the number I got from Marlon. I just hoped the guy would accept my coffee date. It was almost six in the evening. Caffeine wasn't such a bad idea.
I waited patiently for the person on the other end to receive.
"If it isn't the police themselves. I guess word already reached you." The person on the other end said. His voice, a deep Irish lilt,was too familiar.
"You're wrong. It's not." I said, raising my eyebrows.
"Hm! So who do I owe the pleasure of calling me?"
"Don't get cocky mister. I just want us to meet."
"How about, no!"
"Excuse me!" I said, my voice going a pitch higher than I intended.
"Do you want me to repeat myself? Sorry, baby! Can't do that." He said.
I started growing frustrated. I was a block away from the coffee shop. Couldn't he just comply?
"Why turn down a date?"
"A date you say? No, I don't think so." He said, letting out a small irritating laugh.
"I don't take no for an answer, you just have to comply. There's a..." I started.
"You can't do anything, you know. It's a phone call. I can just hang up and block you. You can never reach me again but, I won't do that because it's rude. I didn't make the call." He said, cutting me off.
"You might as well do your homework. I can track you down in a second. You don't know me." I said sassily, shrugging my shoulders.
"You don't know me either, darling. We are just two strangers having a phone conversation." He said.
"Why would you want us, two strangers to meet? Just wondering, because I'm sure this isn't a blind date." He said nonchalantly.
It was tearing me up. I was so close in breaking my phone. I could sense my knuckles turning white because of the hard grip I had on my phone.
"Well, I was hoping to know more about you."
"Babe! You are not so much of a liar. I know you want something. Just admit it."
"Okay! Fine! I just need some information." I admitted, not exactly to the point.
"Not good enough."
"What's not good enough? That's all I wanted." I lied. I clenched my right fist. Come on! Just help me here.
"Hello!" I called.
I removed my phone to check if he was still there. The call was still ongoing. Freaking eight minutes. He was playing me damn good and I was getting desperate.
I sighed in defeat, replacing the phone back on my ear.
"I just need some few clarification concerning the Mafia. I could use some help."
"Getting desperate, are we?" He said.
If I could stretch my hand through the screen, I would and choke him. What a total pain in the arse.
"I still can't help you. I'm not sure if you are working for the police or not and I have no idea why a girl would be interested with the Mafia." He cut me off again.
"I'm not just 'a girl'. I..."
"Good! Then I'm up for the meet and judge you myself." He said.
Okay! The guy must have been bored by my voice because he didn't allow me to speak. He kept interrupting my sentences. Was I that boring?
"Can't you be any..." I started but didn't get to finish my outburst since I bumped into someone on the sidewalk, dropping my phone.
Apparently, the person had dropped his phone too.
I guess both of us were caught up with our phone conversation we never paid attention to where we were going.
I bent down to pick up my phone but he beat me to it, taking our phones and handing me mine.
"Sorry, about that. I should have paid attention to where I was going." I quickly said, shooting a glance at him and my eyes refused to look anywhere else.
Never in my life have I ever met someone so attractive, apart from Marlon. But at the moment, he came second.
The guy had dark blonde messy hair, a fair complexion, blue-green eyes and a perfect but subtle jawline. He smiled, exposing his perfectly lined teeth that screamed a bright white.
I stared, I admit, but I repressed any emotion that could be evident in my eyes. I couldn't give out my feelings to a stranger.
"It's quite alright! I should have paid attention too. See you around, gorgeous." He said, then walked past me.
I continued walking, towards the coffee shop I guess he just came from, getting in and making myself comfortable on an empty table by the window.
The stubborn jerk on the other end of the phone had changed my plans. So much for the dress.
I was still dazzled by the small encounter earlier when someone shouted through the phone. I had actually forgotten I was on a phone call.
I placed the phone back on my ear.
"Did you already give up talking to me babe? I've missed your voice." He said, sensing a smirk plastered on his stupid face.
I rolled my eyes.
"Weren't you bored with it?" I asked.
"No way! Why would I be?" He asked.
"So, what were you saying? Can't I be any?..."
There he goes again. I sighed.
"Look! I could just work with your name."
"That's an access to every bit of information relevant to me and I wouldn't want that. But-before you protest, I have a proposal."
"It better be worth me calling you because you just ruined my plans. Meet up, end things and be out of each other's hair. Our conversation would have lasted at least four minutes not a whole,.." I stopped to check, bringing the phone back on my ear,"fucking fifteen minutes. I would be doing something productive."
"Did that plan really sound good in your head?-And later do what? More research about me? Don't flatter me, babe." He laughed.
I mentally groaned in frustration. Didn't want to bring unnecessary attention from the other customers. I hated attention.
"Relax! I also have other things to do. It's not always about you, darling. I'm a doctor, which I presume you already know compared to...what do you do again?" He added.
"That's not any of your concern. So anyway, what's your proposal?" I asked.
A waitress approached me, asking for my order. I mouthed her a black coffee, returning my attention to the phone. She walked away, giving a small nod.
"Oh, yeah! About that! I would love us to meet."
"I had thought about that, bringing it..."
"So, I'll call you later, probably text you to tell you where we are going. I expect you to tell me your address. I'm going to pick you up, like a date." He cut me off, for the tenth time that day.
The waitress served my coffee and left.
"And what if I don't want you to pick me up or meet you anymore."
"You have no option, now do you? I'm willing to help, give you information. I will also allow you to take some information to the police if you do actually work with them, but not all. I expect you to behave. Oh! And wear something nice, appealing, sexy."
"No!" I retorted.
"Your loss, then."
"Okay! Fine! I'll do it. Happy?" I replied, quickly.
"I wish you could see." He said, bursting into a fit of laughter.
I rolled my eyes.
"See you soon, darling." He said and I hanged up.
I was not up for it. I concluded as I sipped my coffee.
I picked a lollipop from the lollipop jar I always keep by my door as I entered my house, slumping on my settee. I was just from the coffee shop after been bailed. Guess I just didn't rethink my plans.Never before have my plans failed. The guy I was dealing with at the moment was different. It's like he knew my every move, knew what I was thinking or what I was to say. That explains the constant interruptions. Maybe he had heard the lines one to many times but he was manly and mature enough to finish the sentences in his head rather than blurt them out like a five year old.
"Becca! Becca! Wake up!-Goddamn it! Wake up, Becca! You've never slept in." Someone said in my ear, stroking me lightly.As far as I was concerned, I lived alone and no one but Xander and the police knew.I didn't open my eyes because I thought I was dreamin
I stared at my reflection in the mirror. I had on a short, two-piece, black bodycon dress with a slit on my left side for flexibility. I was left-handed in writing and in fighting. The slit was an added advantage.I accompanied my look with some light make-up, peach lip gloss and black ey
I needed a drink.I filled my wine glass then made my way to the said table. I picked a random chair and sat, waiting nervously. I quickly regained my composure when four handsome men walked towards me.I leaned on the chair and sipped from my glass, plastering a smile
I stared at the beaten man in front of me. His jet black hair was scruffy, his brows a bush over his eyes and had a dirty line of shaven moustache under his nose. His nose looked broken one too many times as it faced the left.His white dress shirt and pair of black dress pants were covered with a layer of dust from when I tuckled him to the ground.I didn't have time for him
"Becca!" A voice, low, deep but soft, called.I closed my eyes even tighter not wanting to wake up from my dream where I was the queen of the dark, sitting on a black acrylic royal chair with a gold wood finish. Every morning I woke up, I would walk to the mausoleum connected to my palace by an underground tunnel, clanking my heeled boots along the cobblestone tiles as I checked on my prisoners. Each cell had someone who had crossed my line one way or another. It wasn't until I walked to the end where two cells were separated from the rest. The cells
I knocked on the old, all too familiar oak wood door, memories of the last moments I had there flooding my mind. They were still fresh and bruised just like a wound from a bicycle fall.My foster mother opened the door. Shocked to see me, she called my foster father then moved to hug me."I can't believe you are here. We left off on the wrong foot. I never thought you'd come back." Shamali said pulling away just as Ian appeared beside her."Becca! It's so great to see you." He said, hugging me too then ushered me inside.I walked in the newly renovated house. What used to be a polished wooden floor was replaced by a stone vinyl cushion. The wood on the stairs was evenly polished and shiny, a brown carpet running all through only allowed to expose the sides.Just by the door, there was a long, raised stool cabinet that gracefully held three picture frames. Two of them were of Shamali and Ian in Venice while the other one, between the two was of me whe
I stopped at the red light and nursed my cut, using an Elastoplast to cover its ugliness. It was best to keep off dust and air from the cut.I wondered if my parents were looking for me or they had given up with their search. Sewing my name on the dress was clever, making that as their first lead but there was no report of a missing child over all the years. Were they dead? Did they think I was dead?