Page 51 of Cloud Storm

Maybe something happened to him?

Maybe his boss is an idiot who’s kept him buried under mountains of work?

Maybe his car was hit on the highway?

Maybe he had an accident?

If that’s not the case, I’ll kill him with my bare hands. Or better yet, greet him with a knife.

The fucker is late. Way too late.

He begged for this date for months, now he’s fucking standing me up?

Once again I feel stupid for not asking for his phone number. I just read the messages that appeared non-stop in my mailbox.

I read and reread the last one he sent and it seems odd that he hasn’t appeared. He seemed so happy, so excited and, above all, so interested.

Fuck all the men in this world, none can be trusted.

Taking my brothers out of the equation, because they saved my life.

Every time the waitress passes, I want to hide under the table and wrap myself up in the tablecloth.

Time continues to pass and the bastard still doesn’t show up. I have only myself to blame. Only I would do something as far-fetched as meeting a stranger in a restaurant and what’s worse is I did it without telling anyone.

What if he turned out to be a psychopath or a serial killer?

Why didn’t I think about all those things?

Well, that’s what I get for being stupid. I was embarrassed to tell Roselynn. My friend is madly in love with her husband, however, she is focused, sensible and has her feet firmly on the ground. If I had told her any of this, she would surely have given me a couple of slaps to make me see reason.

Neurosurgery is what I need.

How stupid I am!

I should get out of here, but instead of calling the Lyft, I should call an ambulance to take me to the hospital to get my head examined.

Tired of waiting and ashamed of my behavior, I ask for the bill and get out of here. I haven’t called a car, nor do I intend to get a taxi. I want to walk for a while, the fresh air will hopefully help to calm me before I get home.

It’s not that far, and it’s not as if I haven’t walked this same road at other times in my life. When I was a homeless girl, I roamed around the whole area of the port, the airport and downtown looking for work, anything to earn a meal. Well, my mission was always to fall asleep with something in my stomach, although it wasn’t always possible.

I won’t deny that I have my cell phone in my hand, I’m not so hypocritical, still hoping for a new message to arrive, asking if I’m still in the restaurant and apologizing for being late, or an email that says he’s desperate to see me. That’s how fanciful I am.

But today the universe has not had the decency to conspire in my favor.

An hour and a half later I enter Market Station by the main garden, feeling defeated and upset. What I should be doing now is going to the bar where my friends meet every Friday night, but I don’t have the courage for that. I would be horrible company and right now I don’t want to give explanations.

“Ariel, it’s great that you’re here,” Mr. Hatz exclaims, giving me an affectionate kiss on the cheek. “I really need you to do me a favor, it’s very important.”

“Don’t tell me you’re craving carrot cake again?”

He tries to laugh, but his worried expression gives him away.

“No, it’s nothing like that, I’m afraid.”

Oh, God, this is going from bad to worse, who knows what is going to happen next.

“I have a very important appointment in La Jolla, and I’m already late.” He puts a set of keys in my hand and I frown, not understanding what he wants me to do. “I need you to go see what’s happening with one of the residents. His aunt is a good friend of mine and called me a while ago. She’s worried about her nephew, because she hasn’t been able to locate him all week.”

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