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I frown as I remember my sister did the same to Michael after she had met him. I remember how gutted he’d been, and how I’d laughed as he spoke of the woman who’d broken his heart.
Well, buddy, I guess it’s your turn.
A smack rings sounds through the phone’s speaker followed by my sister’s voice. “Shut up, Michael.”
Heh, serves him right. I start to grin until I hear him groaning in pain.
“Owwww you got my balls…”
“What? O.M.G, your balls made smack?”
I frown immediately. I seem to be doing a lot today. However, the last thing I want to hear is whatever goes on with my sister and best friend, whether they’re married or not.
“Alessia, can you please just tell me what I asked? Where is she?” I’m so pained.
As though she can hear the frustration in my voice, the noise on the other end calms down as she shushes Michael.
“I’m not entirely sure but she’s likely in New York with her family,” she says. “She mentioned something about it.”
“Okay, thanks, sis. Enjoy your honeymoon.”
My thumb hovers over the end call button,that but Alessia’s voice stops me.
“Seriously, Enzo, I don’t know if it’s a good idea for you to go after her. This seems like it’s going to be an incredibly toxic situation.”
The worry I hear so clearly in her voice gives me pause. I hold the phone tighter. “What are you talking about?”
“You’re not ready for Kelly at all,” she informs me.
The fuck does that mean?
“You know what? Maybe I’m wrong. It might do you some good,” she says suddenly, and I roll my eyes.
What’s with all the cryptic messages?
“I don’t know what you’re talking about and, honestly, I don’t care. Enjoy your honeymoon, Alessia.”
I hang up before she can say anything else and immediately go through my contacts again. This time my thoughts are clear and there’s only one thing I’m after. I call Martin, my private investigator. I haven’t reached out since the last of Alessia’s boyfriends I’d tracked down and stalked. After years of using him whenever I want information, I know I can trust his speed to deliver whatever it is I ask him to find.
“Hello Martin,” I greet the man.
“Lorenzo, it’s been a bit. What can I do for you today?” he asks in a chipper tone.
“I need you to find out all the information you can gather on an American Kelly Jones and where she is. I need information as soon as possible,” I say, going straight to the point. “You’ll find pictures of her on my sister’s social media.”
“You got it, Lorenzo. I should have what you want before the day runs out.”
7
Kelly
Molly is something else. Sunlight streams through the large glass window, painting the room in rays of light. The walls are adorned with beautiful paintings and hanging baskets of climbing plants.
At the back corner of the room, a curved glass case displays delicate pastries with delicious aroma fills the room. I let out an amused scoff as I take a sip of my macchiato, the only thing I got, and scroll through my phone, sitting in a fancy Manhattan coffee shop.
Who else sets up dates like they’re interviewing?
After our last conversation on the topic of her marriage, which left me shocked, Molly has since put her plans into action. She's been going on dates with guys she thinks could be potential husbands. It's insane that she wants to find someone and marry them after just one interview. The idea blows my mind.
