Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 81375 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 407(@200wpm)___ 326(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81375 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 407(@200wpm)___ 326(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
Since my parents had an education fund, and I was able to save everything I ever made working at the bakery since I was fourteen and my parents started paying me, I had some resources to work with. Enough to hire someone to dig up dirt because blackmail seemed like the only way to go.
I contacted a few friends from school who are into hacking and deep searching and dark webbing and things that blow my mind and churn my stomach. The thing about getting a business degree is that you have to take classes in so many different areas, including computer science. I met a few really interesting people, and we stayed friends. One in particular, Anton, did me a solid. He only charged me a hundred bucks and let me send it to him in pizza gift cards. He lives in Boston now. Otherwise, I would have offered to gift him a few free pies as well.
I never expected the result that Anton delivered, which is the whole dating game arrangement type thing Luca has going on.
Anton was able to find out most of Luca’s medical history too—I shudder to think how—his address, and the time the next date was set to happen. From there, he contacted the poor girl and did something to scare her off. I’ll always be eternally sorry that it had to be done, and I did tell Anton to go easy. I hope he followed through. He’s a bit of a wild child, but he’s not a bad guy, and he was never, ever mean.
He gave me her slot and his address. I showed up with the fake ID Anton prepared for me and a full face of goth makeup that would have transformed anyone’s face, and then I told the bulldog lawyer at the door that I was going through a phase.
Was I shitting myself?
Just about literally.
It took so much money and effort to get here that once I was actually in, I didn’t have a plan for what I’d do. As I walked into the world’s biggest dream cabin and found Luca standing at the window of an expansive dining room with a real antler chandelier and a spread fit for a medieval banquet, I lost all my courage.
I’d truly planned to confess everything, give him my real name, and beg.
And beg.
And beg some more, if that’s what it took.
But the words died in my throat, and instead of confronting him in that first moment and confessing and giving myself up, I started talking to him. I continued perpetuating the lie and dragging it out because, in that moment, he was nothing like I expected him to be, and I thought it was the only shot I had at eventually confessing everything. If I told him right away, he’d probably just send me on my way, and I’d never get another chance. I’d worked way too hard to just throw this away.
The indignity of being dragged from this gorgeous, rustic home, kicking and screaming and making a big freaking fuss because I would fuss like no one’s ever fussed before, made the act seem worth it.
I hate being a liar.
I hate that I’ve done all this to even get this far.
But most of all, I hate that Luca is funny, far too vulnerable, and completely human. Just from these few brief minutes of conversation, I can honestly see what my dad loved about him.
I’m already regretting this to the maximum amount, especially as I stand up and offer my hand to help pick Luca off the floor.
What was I thinking? I just about gave him a heart attack. Whatever he did to my dad, or however it went down, he’s been through hell and back, and I don’t want to make it worse. While I was talking to him, round two (so far) of the world’s worst plan took shape. It involves being unequivocally who I truly am and my most honest self, even if this is a lie, and I’m using a fake name.
If I can befriend Luca, maybe he’ll agree to let me come back here. If he’d agree to that, then maybe we could get to know each other, and I’d be able to convince him to come back to Ohio with me to see my dad. Even if it’s just for a day.
I know, it’s a shit plan, but it always works in the movies, doesn’t it?
It would be so much easier to be a sneaky arsen-dick if Luca were a total piece of work.
No, it wouldn’t be.
It’s definitely not, especially now that his stark green eyes are fixed on my face like he’s trying to decide if I’m a lifeline or an epic bad decision.
He cooked, and the food is getting cold.
He’s clearly lonely. There wasn’t a word he said earlier that his emotion didn’t bleed into.