Page 41 of My Soul for Sale

“So you see, the bird had to come back or it wouldn’t have been able to get its half a million in treats.”

Well, that makes sense. I would have returned as well, but why didn’t she say that? Why not explain that, instead of saying she wasn’t sure about post auction communication.

“He’s gonna need a bigger apology.” I sigh, raking a hand down my face.

“He is. I’ll text you the details. But remember what I said. Any harm befalls the pretty birdie, and I’ll have your head on a platter. I’m sure you saw who was beside you at the bar. They are large funders of the event. One call and they’ll handle the issue. Are we clear?”

I swallow hard. “Crystal.”

Edward hangs up, and I blow out a breath. That was intense and exhausting. How did he know we were next to the Sartoris at the bar? He must have cameras and eyes everywhere to make sure everything stays running smoothly.

Well, I guess I'll wait for his text and then tell Atlas that Sloane had more of a reason to leave. If she didn’t return, she wouldn’t have gotten paid. I still wish I knew why she needed money. But for now, I’ll wait for Edward to send the info.

The next day, I finally get the text I’ve been waiting for.

Unknown- I will not give out the home address. But she works at the Iced Rose. Address is 3838 Pleasant St here in Detroit.

Me- Thank you

I get no response, and honestly, I didn’t expect one. I’m sure Edward has better things to do than deal with my issues. Now, we have her work address, but we don’t know her schedule. So we need to make a plan.

I make my way through the house, looking for Atlas. It doesn't take long for me to find him in his room, playing Fortnite. He's completely immersed in the game, his fingers dancing over the controller as he sticks his tongue out in concentration. I swear he's still like a child sometimes. I personally never got the appeal of video games, but he's always enjoyed them.

Although, I haven't seen him play in a while, as he spends most of his time in the garage with his Chevy. But since our blowout, he hasn’t been out there.

Working in the quiet solitude of the garage gives him too much time to think about Sloane.

Even during work this week, he had the radio on, playing his favorite playlist. When the batteries died, he ran like the hounds of hell were on his ass to switch them out. I think I have memorized the new Beyonce song, along with that old school Lil Kim How Many Licks.

I knock on the wall beside his open door and step inside. "Hey, son. I heard from Edward."

He looks up from his game, his eyes brightening at the mention of the name. “What did he say?”

“He gave me her work address,” I tell him and he smiles before pursing his lips.

“That’s great, but we don’t know when she works. What are we supposed to do? Just pop in multiple times every day to see if she’s there. We have to work, too. Fuck!” he curses, throwing the controller onto the pillow beside him.

“I have an idea to get her schedule, but it’s creepy, and I don’t know if it will work. If her boss and coworkers are good people, it won’t, but it’s the only plan I’ve got right now,” I tell him, wondering how I got here.

I feel like a teenager figuring out the schedule of the girl I like so I can pass her a note or some shit. I’m way too old for this.

“Do it,” he tells me.

“You don’t want to know what the idea is?”

“Nope.” He shakes his head. “If it gets me in front of her, I don’t care.”

“Alright. But be quiet. I don’t need them thinking this is any weirder than it is.”

He motions like he's zipping his lips shut and hands me an invisible key. I take it from him, chuckling as I shove it into my pocket.

I slide my phone out and pull up the browser. With a quick search for 'Iced Rose Detroit', I'm relieved to find only one result. I press the little phone icon, and when it starts to ring, I take a deep breath.

Finally, a female voice answers, "Iced Rose. Pouring bad choices, one drink at a time. How can I help you?"

"Hi," I begin, taking a moment to gather my thoughts. "I was in there not long ago, and one of your bartenders served me. Light hair and blue eyes, freckles. I think her name started with an S?"

"Sloane?" the voice on the other end supplies.

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