“You talking to me?” he said in a perfect De Niro Taxi Driver accent. “You talkin’ to me?” He laughed a bit.
I joined him, realizing how ridiculous I was being. I was in a bank, looking like a lost child, and he was in a suit. Clearly he worked there, though his name tag wasn’t visible. I frowned.
“May I help you with something?” he asked holding out his hand, his smile was easy, but something about it had me hesitating. Silky black hair lay against his olive skin, he looked Italian but his stormy blue yes… there was something predatory in their depths. I felt like I should know him, but I didn’t, nor did I really want to know a man who had such a calculating smile. His grin deepened, my legs itched to turn around and run away.
“No.” I said quickly. “I just… wrong building.”
“I’m sorry.” He grabbed my arm gently. “Did I scare you? I didn’t mean to. I work here and you were staring down at a paper and you looked lost, I put two and two together…” As his voice trailed off, he tilted his head, one eyebrow raised.
Tension eased its grip on my body. “Sorry, I’m just…” I waved into the air. “Long night reading vampire novels, didn’t get much sleep.”
“Tell me, how is Edward?” he joked, a half smile tugging up one side of his gorgeous mouth.
“Still with Bella, damn him.” I fired back quickly.
He burst out laughing. “You’re going to do just fine.”
“Do?”
“Now, what did you say I could help you with?” He was already reaching for the paper. I let him have it because I didn’t want to be rude. That was my biggest downfall — my niceness. Let’s just say it was basically impossible for me to pass a homeless guy without giving him every single bit of spare change I had, even though I knew that he’d most likely spend it on something bad.
The man scanned the sheet and then handed it back.
“Weird, right?” I said jokingly, a bit embarrassed that he’d read the whole thing and now probably thought I was insane or had escaped a mental institution.
“Eh.” He shrugged. “I’ve seen weirder.” His smile faded. “You have no idea.”
“I believe you,” I croaked out.
“Safety deposit boxes…” He turned on his heel and started walking, and I followed mutely. “…are right over here.” He scanned a key card over some metal thingy and walked me to the farthest corner of the building. “Go down the hall and find your number. Some have keys, some of the high profile deposit boxes use a thumbprint.”
I held up my hand and then dug through my purse, finally locating the key and lifting it triumphantly into the air. “Key.”
“Fantastic.” He nodded once. “Stay as long as you need.”
“Thanks.” I bit my lip in nervousness, I was really doing this. Holy crap. My heart slammed against my chest as I walked down the quiet hall.
“I hope you find what you’re looking for Valentina,” he whispered after me. “I truly do.”
My steps faltered.
I’d never told him my name.
Shaking, I quickly turned around.
But he was gone.
I nearly toppled into another lady on my way out of the hall to find him.
“Miss?” She was juggling about a million papers. “Can I help you?”
“A man,” I blurted. “He just left down the hall and—”
“No.” The lady frowned. “I would have seen him, I’m sorry, maybe… you imagined it?”
“Right.” I swallowed the dryness in my throat, my heart really going to town threatening to crack right out of my chest and start thumping across the floor.
“You look lost?” she offered with a tilt of her head, she was pretty, and appeared a bit young to be working at a bank, but what did I know?
“Nope.” I clenched the key between my fingers, sweat pooling around the metal. “I have a safety deposit box to look at.”
“Well,” she said, nodding, “let me know if you have any questions. My name’s… Emiliana.”
“Okay.” I took two steps backward then turned on my heel and made a beeline for the boxes, they lined both walls.
Finally, I located number thirty-six, and without giving myself time to chicken out, shoved the key in the lock and turned it.
Had I known then what I know now — I would have ran toward the bank, shoved my way through the fires of hell, and done just about anything legal or illegal to get to that box.
Shaking, I pulled the box out and went into one of the private rooms and closed the door behind me.
All is lost. Romance. Love. Stories. Endings. All. Is. Lost. —Sergio
Sergio
“HEY.” FRANK NUDGED me with his elbow, and I glanced at the newspaper rolled up in his hand. Ink smudges lined a few of his fingers. “I need some coffee, did you want anything?”
I shook my head and sank lower in the uncomfortable metal airport chair, unable to concentrate on anything other than the pounding of my own heart, and the sweat that was starting to trickle from the back of my neck.
I flexed my hand into a fist and kicked my feet up onto my suitcase, pulling my beanie so low it nearly covered my eyes.
It had been two months.