Milo had gotten married recently and was probably on the last leg of his honeymoon in Kenya, where his family was from. Milo didn’t have an “undercover” name since he wasn’t writing the articles, only taking photos.
The thought of his wedding made me pause. Everyone I knew was suddenly coupling up and committing to forever. It brought what Neil had suggested to the forefront of my memories. Even though it was a good offer, a rent-controlled apartment, a geriatric little dog and a real bitch of a cat, it all screamed…caged.
I needed to be able to stretch my wings and know I was free to fly whenever I wanted to. The thought of being shackled to a person, place, or thing made me feel…claustrophobic.
Maybe that was why I was afraid to take the step and meet the Fausti family before. I wasn’t sure in which direction I was going to go after. The family had always given me a purpose, the air to fly through.
I sighed, then thought of Edna. Her father had witnessed Marzio’s rise to power. He had a photojournalist of the time with him to capture it. The article had been featured on the front page of the newspaper with an unforgettable black and white picture of Marzio looking as regal as a king, his beautiful Italian actress of a wife on his arm as his queen.
If Edna hadn’t been invited to witness Luca’s historic rise, I was going to search out the designated area of press and see if any of the photographers were interested in a freelance job. There was no way in hell Vice City Press should miss this. My column might not have lasted, but we still had a huge audience who craved Fausti news.
This event wasbig.
It was going to be plastered across all news outlets, hailed as the charity event of the century, but in an outlet such as mine, the face behind the mask would give more of the truth.
The area designated for invited press was off to the side. They were offered an open bar, but guards were watching them. My eyes scanned the crowd, hoping to find someone I recognized or who would at least listen to my offer.
“Peps?”
My eyes stilled on a masked man with a camera around his neck and a glass of water in his hand.
“Milo!” I crossed the line between guest and press and hauled myself into his arms.
Milo had won awards for his work, in and outside of New York. It made total sense that Edna would send him. He was familiar with taking shots of lions out in the wild. I hadn’t seen him since before his wedding, though. He probably separated from Rashida, his wife, on their way back from their honeymoon in Kenya to get to the event.
“Whoa.” He hugged me with one arm and then stepped back to look at me. “What are you doing on the guest side? Wait. Don’t even tell me. I don’t want to know.”
I grinned. “You really don’t.”
“New York not dangerous enough for you anymore, Peps?”
“You know me. It was only a matter of time before I needed more space to spread my wings.”
“And to fly out of the pot and into the fire.” Milo’s parents left Kenya before he was born. He was first generation with a hint of a New York accent, but his time in Kenya had touched him. I could hear the slight Swahili accent coming through.
I smiled at him. “Marriage looks good on you.”
His smile came slow, and he shook his head. “Always so eager to change the subject.”
“I prefer to call it deflecting.” I looked around. “Who did Ed send with you to report?”
Milo turned, and a man with combed-over black hair and jet blue eyes gave me a chilly look.
“Neil,” I breathed.
His jaw tightened, and he took me by the shoulders a second later, wanting to shake me but stopping himself. I could feel the restraint in his muscles.
“Peps,” he said, his voice ice cold, “you’re one of my best friends, and I’ve always loved you, but right now, I want to strangle you.”
“Join the club,” I whispered, overcome by emotion at seeing him. Ihatedit. Feelings were not my friends.
“Why the fuck haven’t you been answering my calls?”
I flexed my hands. They felt tight suddenly, or maybe shaky. “Just what I said. You’re in a club now.”
“No offense, Peps, but that club started about the time you hit the streets for Vice. If you set everyone who wanted to harm you in a line outside of the building, it would wrap around it!”
“That’s true,” I agreed. “But the line never made its way into the building.”
