do it ?
Ramón suddenly smiled, like he was unable to contain himself any longer. " I've already informed your old boss that you were under assignment with the Federal Bureau of Investigation—and if he tells anyone, he'll be arrested for interfering with a federal investigation . He wants you back, Marisa."
"What? " I asked, suddenly flabbergasted . "My old job? Are you kidding me? You talked to Pat?" I couldn't help but feel like I was transported back to middle school . I had been absent for an extended amount of time and now I needed a doctor's note or I'd be penalized for the time off . Well, here was my doctor's note, all right—for my career .
"That son of a bitch called me and told me to fess up or he was going to go public. After I told him he'd go to jail, he stopped acting like such a tough guy."
I started laughing uncontrollably, the tears spilling from my eyes, not because I was sad, but from the excess joy that was overwhelming me after so many horrendous events in a row . "That's just like him!" I clutched my side, trying to control the huge giggles that kept surfacing. A moment like this was exactly what I needed.
"He's pretty nice, even though I don't usually like dealing with the media." Ramón stared at me, amused. "It's that funny, huh?"
"You'd just have to know him." I laughed until it hurt.
***
Later that night, I left the hospital, heading to a hotel to stay with my parents. I needed to do a full debriefing with Ramón and his team before I left the city, so I would have to stick around for at least a couple of days.
It was the weirdest thing, because Ramón and his colleagues all treated me as if I was a war hero or something. I don't think I'd ever feel like I deserved the praise I received for my efforts with Roland, even if I saved lives. It was more like luck—I was lucky that my stupid obsession gave me the opportunity to get involved in a dangerous, yet positive way.
My apartment in the city was still mine, but my plan was to go home with my parents for a week or two, to reconnect with home after being involved in such a mess. It was a simpler place, one that would suit me well before I dove headfirst back into the city. I was looking forward to it, actually.
I didn't want to say that the west coast had been bad to me, but I also couldn't say it had been good either. One way or another, I had quite the story to tell, so I needed to find some way I could legally do that. A tinge of sadness washed over me as I boarded the plane. The last time I had been at that airport, I was a totally different person, a person that had since been transformed forever.
The question was, would I actually learn from my mistakes?
THREE MONTHS LATER...
I was sitting at a coffee shop, sipping my very average latte and watching the endless bustl e of humans and machines passing the window outside. I loved New York City; there was no doubt about it. Every time I had coffee now, it reminded me of Roland. I had yet to find a cup as good as his—and I had tried all of the top spots in the city. Was I doomed to always long for his perfectly-prepared drinks ? For some reason , I felt that if I could find a coffee that was better, I'd be able to push Rola nd even further out of my mind until he disappeared.
No, I didn't hate him, even though he had put me through so much. I still remembered every detail vividly and I had started to write it down, hoping to eventually compile my notes into a book. I hadn't gone back for my journal, so it would still be under the mattress in that upstairs bedroom. I wanted a record of this, the real story to hold onto. Inaction would undoubtedly lead to regret in this case.
I didn't actually know what happened to Roland. I left while he was still in the hospital on life support. I couldn't deal with it anymore. Yeah, I wanted him to get better, but it also really wasn't my business anymore. One way or another, his fate looked bleak. Ramón had promised to
Ramón suddenly smiled, like he was unable to contain himself any longer. " I've already informed your old boss that you were under assignment with the Federal Bureau of Investigation—and if he tells anyone, he'll be arrested for interfering with a federal investigation . He wants you back, Marisa."
"What? " I asked, suddenly flabbergasted . "My old job? Are you kidding me? You talked to Pat?" I couldn't help but feel like I was transported back to middle school . I had been absent for an extended amount of time and now I needed a doctor's note or I'd be penalized for the time off . Well, here was my doctor's note, all right—for my career .
"That son of a bitch called me and told me to fess up or he was going to go public. After I told him he'd go to jail, he stopped acting like such a tough guy."
I started laughing uncontrollably, the tears spilling from my eyes, not because I was sad, but from the excess joy that was overwhelming me after so many horrendous events in a row . "That's just like him!" I clutched my side, trying to control the huge giggles that kept surfacing. A moment like this was exactly what I needed.
"He's pretty nice, even though I don't usually like dealing with the media." Ramón stared at me, amused. "It's that funny, huh?"
"You'd just have to know him." I laughed until it hurt.
***
Later that night, I left the hospital, heading to a hotel to stay with my parents. I needed to do a full debriefing with Ramón and his team before I left the city, so I would have to stick around for at least a couple of days.
It was the weirdest thing, because Ramón and his colleagues all treated me as if I was a war hero or something. I don't think I'd ever feel like I deserved the praise I received for my efforts with Roland, even if I saved lives. It was more like luck—I was lucky that my stupid obsession gave me the opportunity to get involved in a dangerous, yet positive way.
My apartment in the city was still mine, but my plan was to go home with my parents for a week or two, to reconnect with home after being involved in such a mess. It was a simpler place, one that would suit me well before I dove headfirst back into the city. I was looking forward to it, actually.
I didn't want to say that the west coast had been bad to me, but I also couldn't say it had been good either. One way or another, I had quite the story to tell, so I needed to find some way I could legally do that. A tinge of sadness washed over me as I boarded the plane. The last time I had been at that airport, I was a totally different person, a person that had since been transformed forever.
The question was, would I actually learn from my mistakes?
THREE MONTHS LATER...
I was sitting at a coffee shop, sipping my very average latte and watching the endless bustl e of humans and machines passing the window outside. I loved New York City; there was no doubt about it. Every time I had coffee now, it reminded me of Roland. I had yet to find a cup as good as his—and I had tried all of the top spots in the city. Was I doomed to always long for his perfectly-prepared drinks ? For some reason , I felt that if I could find a coffee that was better, I'd be able to push Rola nd even further out of my mind until he disappeared.
No, I didn't hate him, even though he had put me through so much. I still remembered every detail vividly and I had started to write it down, hoping to eventually compile my notes into a book. I hadn't gone back for my journal, so it would still be under the mattress in that upstairs bedroom. I wanted a record of this, the real story to hold onto. Inaction would undoubtedly lead to regret in this case.
I didn't actually know what happened to Roland. I left while he was still in the hospital on life support. I couldn't deal with it anymore. Yeah, I wanted him to get better, but it also really wasn't my business anymore. One way or another, his fate looked bleak. Ramón had promised to
Similar Books
