Page 67 of Until I Find You

“Look, you want to take a break? We can take a break.”

I chew on my lower lip and look down at my hands. If we take a break, I’m giving up.

“We can start again when we’ve had some time to cool our heads and, you know, give her time to leave more of a footprint. Time is sometimes the best thing for an investigation.”

I droop further forward. “Yeah, a break might be good.”

“This is fickle work, sweetheart. Very fickle.”

Suddenly, the way he says “sweetheart” feels so condescending it makes me want to scream. With all the money I’m paying him, “sweetheart” shouldn’t be in his lexicon.

“I am doing what I can for now. And if I get a lead, you know, if something comes through, I’ll let you know, and we can start back up. For now, why don’t we hit pause and take a break?”

I find myself saying, “Yeah,” without really thinking about it. “That would be good.”

“Okay, okay…that’s good.” Dave stops for a moment. “I’m sorry I’m coming up short, sweetheart.”

“Sweetheart” still doesn’t sound great, but it sounds nicer next to an apology.

“It’s okay. Fickle work, like you said.”

He laughs, big bravado. “Exactly. You’re catching on. Talk soon.”

This time, I get to hang up on him before he hangs up on me. I wonder if we’ll talk soon. Or if we’ll ever talk to one another again.

I’m tired of the search. So tired.

But maybe I’m tired of feeling like it’s out of my hands. Maybe I just need to put my nose to the grindstone and come up with something,anythingto find out who she is.

I start by taking into account all the information I have, running through names and addresses connected to her. I’m pouring through records, paying money for people lookups for the hundredth time, and, after an hour, find myself perusing a website that’s entirely in Spanish, trying to make sense of how I got here.

The best lead I get is for a faculty member at a school in Arizona. Juana Gonzalez. Intro to engineering. When I click on her linked name, I get a very short bio that doesn’t even have a photo attached.

She has a bachelor’s from the University of Nebraska, her master’s from Berkley, and a handful of professorial gigs after that.

My motivation drains in an instant. Dave wouldn’t pass his muster as a private investigator if he didn’t take these trivialities into account. I’m sure he’s been here and done that. My brief delusion of grandeur drifts away, and I’m left once again not knowing anything more about Juana Gonzalez.

When the words start to run together on the page, I place my head in my hands and let out a grand sigh.

I’ve done so much and yet gotten nowhere at all. That’s how this whole search has been. So much money, so much work, so much time.

And nothing.

Still no birth mother.

What if I gave up? Really gave up. Held up my hands and said, “I’m done.”

I look down the barrel of the rest of my life. Could I die happy never knowing who Juana Gonzalez really is?

I think maybe I could. And in the next instant, I think maybe I couldn’t.

I never thought I’d get here. Especially not so soon. But I’m tired and have a world of other things on my mind.

I’m now the business partner to a billionaire which feels like a fantasy in and of itself. Coupled with the fact he’s given me the best orgasms of my life, I’m in a waking dream.

I lean back in my chair and let my head drop back, groaning.

My phone buzzes on the table. For the first time since I returned to New York, I don’t grab it as soon as I hear it. It’s probably my dad asking me how I’m doing, letting me know they heard about some other awful crime that happened a block away from my apartment, asking me to come home.

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