“With Scott? Huh.” I sit back against the chair cushion. “I guess I could see the appeal. He was pretty good looking.”
Nantes chuckles. “He was hot as hell to a horny sixteen-year-old.”
“Never saw it. He always had a girl on his arm.”
“Publicly. But I saw him a lot on the down low.”
“Who was your first kiss?”
Nantes smiles as nostalgia glimmers in his eyes. “You wouldn’t know him. He came out here to work for the summer. He was a couple years older than me and he noticed I watched him all the time. He always took his shirt off. Sue me.”
I laugh. “What was his name?”
“Marcus. He was beautiful. Tan, big blue eyes, curly hair. He wasn’t just my first kiss.”
“Scandalous.”
“We didn’t do the deed, but we did everything else. That honor didn’t happen until college. My first boyfriend.”
“Tell me about him.”
“Another Italian guy like me. His name was Angelino Torrani. He pursued me and it was the first time I really felt normal, you know? We’d go out with friends and to bars, to dinner, just like any other couple.”
“What happened with him?”
“Nothing bad. He graduated a year before me and went off to law school in Boston. Then I had medical school, so just different life paths.”
“Do you stay in touch?”
“No.”
“And you’re not dating anyone right now?”
“Definitely not. I was so busy at the hospital, then when I decided to come back here I had so much to learn. I just wanted to focus on making this new life work.”
“Makes sense. Want to tell me about that?”
The oven timer dings.
“Hold that thought,” Nantes says.
“Need help?”
“Nah, I got it.”
I refill our wineglasses and sit quietly, replaying every interaction we had as teens. There must have been clues I was just too young to notice.
My phone vibrates in my pocket. I pull it out and see a text from my coworker, James.
James: Dude. The police were here in the office today asking us questions about the murder that happened yesterday in Humboldt Park. Guess the victim had an appointment here, so they came in to see if we had any records.
Adrenaline shoots through my body.
Me: What? Really? Who was he meeting with?
James: Wesley. He didn’t make it to his appointment though and he hadn’t called to reschedule. We didn’t have anything to give the police, but how wild is that? Six degrees.
Way too close for my comfort.
