The Meeting Point by Olivia Lara
Thirty
I return to the inn before midnight and Susan, who’s still awake, greets me at the door.
I nod and cover my mouth as I yawn. I’m exhausted.
“I’m sorry to bother you at this hour with this, but I just wanted to remind you that check-out is tomorrow before eleven,” she says.
“Yes. No bother. I’ll be ready before eight.”
“Sad to see you go,” she says, sounding sincere. “Did you find another place to stay?”
“I did, yes, close by.”
“That’s wonderful. I’m so glad.”
I smile, thank her, say good night and head straight for my room.
Before falling asleep, I remember I didn’t tell Alisa what happened so I call her and we talk for a few minutes. As in, I talk and she listens.
“I told you to talk to the woman, not get her to hire you.”
“I didn’t know how else to get close to her. I couldn’t just come out and ask. Plus, I need the money and a reason to stay.”
“You have a talent for complicating things. Was it worth it? Did you learn where he is?”
“Yes. In Florida.”
“In Florida?” She sounds shocked. “What are you still doing there then?”
“Well, Max is here somewhere, and Celine said her brother is coming soon. Oh, and she had rooms to rent, so I’m moving in with her. I’m still in shock at how kind she is.”
“Can I envy you for a second? Yesterday you left New York with nothing, and now you have a job, a place to live, and it sounds like a new friend.”
“I don’t know about friend, but she’s nice. How these two are related, I have no idea.”
“I know you are set against her brother, but you don’t even know him, right?”
“I don’t need to know him. He stole my story. Besides, I saw his photo, I read about him. What else is there to know?”
“Prejudiced much?”
“Stop!”
“By the way, I’m calling an assistant editor at his publishing house this afternoon. Didn’t hear back from the other girls on the copy. What’s your fancy-schmancy address by the ocean?”
I give her the address.
“Oh my God,” she says seconds later. “Now I really hate you. I just google mapped it and did the satellite view. Are you kidding me? It’s right on the ocean.”
“Hop on a plane and come on over. Maybe this way I get to see you. It’s only been, what, eighteen months?”
She sighs. “I wish I could. Too much work to do, can’t take a holiday now.”
“I know. OK. I have to go to sleep. Tomorrow is my first full day at my new job.”
“So funny to hear that. You, a barista. Please don’t repeat your Starbucks misadventures. We all know how those turned out. Poor Celine doesn’t know what she’s getting herself into.”
I snicker. “Hey, I’m not that bad.”
“Aha. Sure. Good night,” she says.
“Have a great day, Alisa. And text me if you have news. Don’t care what time it is.”