Page 118 of Quadruple Duty


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“Here,” she said coldly. “This is everything you need to know. Your mother is dead…”

There was a pause as our eyes met. I didn’t know that part. I tried convincing myself it didn’t mean anything.

“But your father is very much alive, and you have two half-sisters. They all live in Brooklyn.”

Abruptly she stood up and slapped the folder to the table.

“Throw it all in the garbage if you want,” she said. “That’ll be the end of it. I’ll never mention it again, Ryan. Ever again. I’ll make sure the others don’t either.”

She dropped her napkin. Grabbed her bag.

“But you might want to sit here alone for a few minutes, and consider otherwise,” she said. “At the very least maybe you could get some answers. Some closure. Settle the whole thing with enough peace in your heart that you can actually talk about this in the future, without getting all riled up.”

At that she turned and walked away. I watched her go, my mind numb. Thinking nothing other than that her dress really was pretty.

You’re an asshole, Dunham.

Hell, my name wasn’t even Dunham. It was… Murillo? Shit, I didn’t even know anymore.

Get up and go after her.

I wanted to. I really did. I wanted to drop some money on the table and rush out of the restaurant and grab hold of her before she hopped in a cab and took off.

But I didn’t. Instead I just sat there, thinking. Considering… just as she’d just said.

The folder was sitting there on the other side of the table. Unopened. Untouched.

Spoon in hand, I reached out and grabbed for the lava cake.

Fifty-Five

SAMMARA

The next week was hectic, especially since I was essentially starting from scratch. I had a new business, a new warehouse — a whole new place in the world. I even had a new name: Universal Designs. Inspired by Ryan, of course.

Ryan…

He’d avoided me in the days after our encounter. As much as I wanted to go to him, I gave him some space. It was likely that I’d overstepped my bounds with him. That I’d used Jason to snoop on something I should’ve probably left alone. Even so, I was glad that I did it. We shared something of our childhoods, he and I. It was only because of that common bond, I felt like I could do what I did.

In the meantime, I worked. I had utilities to set up. Accounts to open. A whole warehouse of inventory to catalog, and even a website to configure. In short, my new business needed everything from business cards to a coffee maker to a sign out front. It even needed some interior decorating all its own, but that was the fun part.

Toward the end of the week, Ryan disappeared. He’d done that often in the beginning — sometimes even sleeping on the base when he was especially involved in a project — and he began doing that again now. It bothered me greatly, of course. But when I told Jason everything that had happened, he only shrugged and told me to give him time.

The highlight of my week came when Dawn’s number showed up on my phone. I was sitting at my new desk, staring out at the bright blue sky. Enjoying my second cup of coffee of the afternoon, when I finally answered it.

“Hello?”

“Mara!”

“Oh, hi Dawn!” I said cheerily. “What’s up?”

She was screaming so loudly I could only make out half of what she was saying. But considering the circumstances, I could piece together the rest.

“You know Goddamn well what’s up!” she cried. “You STOLE from me! You took everything out of my—”

“What?” I cried in mock surprise. “You think I stole from you?”

“SAMMARA! DON’T GO GETTING CUTE ON ME OR—”

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