Total pages in book: 112
Estimated words: 105734 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105734 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
Marlena arrives finally, looking a bit tired. She’s wearing a house robe over a pair of silk pajamas. I can see a slight bump, and I’m guessing that she’s more or less uncomfortable. She seems to have a difficult time and prefers to spend time in her room sleeping.
I stand up to give her a kiss on the cheek. “How are you doing?” I ask.
“Okay,” she responds. “I feel like I have to use the bathroom constantly.”
I try not to laugh. Dad looks at me sharply, warning me to behave. It’s clear he’s walking on eggshells, trying not to upset her. He’s been through this before, and he knows what he’s doing. For Marlena, this is her first pregnancy, and she’s not in the mood to joke around.
“Frankie has something to tell us,” Dad announces.
Marlena turns to me, composing herself as she does. I watch her features transform from irritated to interested and take that as a good sign.
“I met someone,” I say.
“Oh!” she cries, throwing her arms around my shoulders. “I’m so happy for you!”
I hug her gently, careful not to put pressure on her stomach. I take her hand and help her sit down. Then I sit beside her and fill her in on all the details. She has many more questions than my father had, and it takes a while to satisfy her curiosity.
“He’s invited her to dinner,” my father says.
“That’s wonderful,” Marlena declares. “When?”
“Tomorrow,” I say. “If that’s not too soon.”
“Not at all,” she insists. “That gives me a full day to get ready.”
I feel all my anxiety slip away. I’m not sure why I was so worried. My father and his wife are acting just like enthusiastic parents, eager to meet someone new in my life. I wrap things up, letting them know that I still have a lot of studying to do. I slip out into the hall to let them converse with each other alone. Passing the kitchen, I hardly even notice the handful of guards eating sandwiches and beer. Hopefully, my father will instruct them to move their party elsewhere when Sofia arrives.
CHAPTER 22
SOFIA
Ineed to tell Mr. Harlan about my invitation to dinner, but I don’t trust emails or texts. I have to speak to him in person. Frankie hasn’t given me much time, but dinner isn’t until seven, so I drive downtown around noon to report my progress.
Mr. Harlan is in a meeting, so I have to wait for him to finish. I’m too excited to work on any writing projects, or to do any more pointless research in phone books. This is the breakthrough I’ve been waiting for, and I just want to alert my boss to the progress I’ve made.
I tap my fingers on my knee nervously, wondering how the news will be received. Hopefully, he will be thrilled like I am. But I have to admit there is a possibility he won’t be receptive. It’s a dangerous thing I’m planning to do. If Frankie finds out who I really am and why I’m so interested in meeting his family, the family might retaliate. I’m not afraid of Frankie at all, but his father is a different story.
Mr. Harlan opens his office door, and one of the other reporters comes out. He sees me waiting and waves me inside. I get right to the point, not wanting to beat around the bush.
“I’ve got an invitation to meet Francisco Corello,” I say.
“How did you manage that?” he wonders.
“Frankie invited me,” I say. “I didn’t even have to ask.”
“Congratulations,” Mr. Harlan replies. “When is the meeting?”
“Tonight,” I answer.
“Can you take someone with you?” he asks.
“I don’t think so,” I respond, shaking my head.
“Are you sure you want to go in there alone?” Mr. Harlan hesitates.
I can see the writing on the wall. He’s nervous about a potential backlash from having an inexperienced reporter going undercover in a dangerous location.
“Frankie will be with me,” I say. “And while I don’t know everything about him, I’m sure he wouldn’t let any harm come to me.”
“You’re putting a lot of faith in someone you’re using as a source,” Mr. Harlan says.
I sigh. I know it’s a lot to ask, but I need to do this. Even if Harlan says otherwise, I’m going to go. I just have to make my case seem rational and ensure that the prize is worth the risk.
“Think about the story,” I urge. “I have to do this.”
He sighs, glancing down at his desk. “All right. But I want you to text me the moment you get home.”
“Got it,” I say, feeling like I’m talking to my father. It’s kind of him to be worried, but I really don’t need the added pressure. I’m worried enough about dinner. The thought of having to check in with my boss only creates more drama.