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I was ill-prepared.
I don’t know what I thought.
Maybe that by me coming and showing her what a good guy I was—with a coffee she didn’t touch and a pastry that she nibbled on only—that she’d decide, “Yeah, sure. Let’s do this thing!”
I wasn’t giving up though.
She may have walked me back to the door five minutes later.
She may have watched me drive away.
But I was far from done.
I went back to that same coffee shop, but this time to use the internet.
I Googled the hell out of Tatum O’Malley.
Learned what she’s quoted to loving.
Pizza.
No surprise there.
The woman is barely eighteen, and every teenager on the face of the planet likes pizza.
Her age does make me take a step back, though, even if only a small one.
I guess, yeah, she looks young, but with her talent, I’d have pegged her for closer to my age of twenty-one. Maybe twenty.
Perhaps it was the pictures of her with Grant where she was clearly wasted that had me thinking she’s older than she really is, but that’s L.A. for you. Age does not deter a person from drugs and alcohol.
Well, if coffee and pastries didn’t do the trick, on to plan B then.
Late lunch.
Pizza, and wings, and cinnamon knots.
This time when I walk up to the front door, there isn’t any movement inside the house.
I move the pizza box and bag to my left hand and try the door; of course, it’s locked, but with a quick four-number code to the electronic pad, the locks all slide over.
“Tatum?” I call out as I step into the large foyer. The house is quiet as I close the heavy door behind me. “It’s Cade.” I look to my right; she’s not in the living room.
Look up.
I hear no rustling, signifying she’s not on the second story.
I walk back toward the kitchen and drop the items off on the giant counter top, the very one Tatum and I sat at only five hours earlier.
Looking around, I see the place is immaculate. The woman keeps after herself.
Our earlier coffee cups are nowhere to be seen. There are no dishes in the sink. The countertop even looks like it was wiped down and cleaned.
There isn’t a crumb to be found, nor a water spot.
“Tatum?” I try again, louder this time.
Still, nothing.
