Still, I add it to the tiny pile, tape up the box, and with a marker write 'junk' on it.
Ruby's comments about Enzo haunt me.
She is right in how hot he is, how he can make a girl pant and swoon.
He is not doing a thing to make me do that, and yet...I?—
I stand up.
I don't want to work for him longer than I need to, and I need to know either how dirty he is or how clean he is. And that leads me to Silas.
Of course, I don't want to bug him with his research into Enzo. Maybe he is onto something huge. Maybe...
Oh.
Oh.
I rush to my phone, fingers shaking. "Please be there, please..."
My heart thuds hard.
Yes.
One word in my contacts.
One name.
And to me, it is pure gold.
Silas.
I saved his number.
I let out a shaking breath.
And I dial.
I'm not really sure what I'm going to say. Maybe small talk about the weather, where he's at on the report, or just cut to the chase and ask for Alex's number.
"Silas."
My throat squeezes tight as my mouth goes dry, but Iforce myself to speak. "Hi Silas. This is L-Lola...A-Alex's friend."
"Hey, Lola."
I imagine him like a Sam Spade character, a gumshoe, chain-smoking and drinking hootch. A hat on his head and suspenders that hold up his old-school pants. His shirt sleeves would be rolled up, and he's hard-bitten, a gleam of knowing in his eye.
And there, in the back of his head, is a woman he is in love with who will break his heart again?—
I stop.
Swallow.
This is the real world.
He might sound like he is a sexy, hard-nosed PI, but he is probably older, fat, balding, with a wife and kids.
A keyboard clacks, and he says, "I was just about to email you the check on this Enzo."
