Learning to Trust: Curtain Falls
Page 5
There was something even bigger to say about Frederic. Even though he had taken such drastic measures, there was not a whole lot of difference between him and me. We both craved Roland's acceptance for our own personal, selfish reasons. "Was Frederic working for you?" I suddenly blurted out. I hadn't even considered that possibility.
"No, no, he wasn't." Ramón looked up from his lap and stared at the blank wall.
"Who the hell was he working for then?"
"Somebody affiliated with Von Williams, most likely. Or maybe the Russian mob. We're still piecing that together. We might never know. Getting those guys to talk is nearly impossible. It's a code they don't break."
Von Williams. I immediately thought of how upset Frederic had seemed when I told him about the bombing. What seemed like such an obvious connection now had totally evaded me then. Weird.
Roland had figured out that Frederic was working for someone else, but he didn't say the name before I was taken hostage. Why did I even care about all of this? The questions just kept brewing in me. "Weird." That's all I could say. The reporter in me was surfacing again, asking all of the questions that might never have answers. Even though I was physically exhausted, my mind was running laps in record time.
The idea that Frederic worked for that asshole Von Williams was something I could barely believe. It just couldn't be true, right? Frederic was so much nicer, so much...
Ramón turned to face me, resting his hand on mine. "You seriously did well, Marisa. No joke."
I paused, collecting my thoughts. "I did my best, I guess," I said. "I just can't believe this all happened so fast. You were telling me it could be months, and here we are closing the case like a week later."
"Sometimes we get lucky," he said.
"I wish I was lucky enough to get my old life back. I don't know why I ever left it. I should have never burned that bridge. They needed my help when I left." I was thinking about that previous me as an old friend, one I desperately sought to get reacquainted with. How could I do it?
Ramón suddenly smiled, like he was unable to contain himself any longer. "I've already informed your old boss that you were under assignment with the Federal Bureau of Investigation—and if he tells anyone, he'll be arrested for interfering with a federal investigation. He wants you back, Marisa."
"What?" I asked, suddenly flabbergasted. "My old job? Are you kidding me? You talked to Pat?" I couldn't help but feel like I was transported back to middle school. I had been absent for an extended amount of time and now I needed a doctor's note or I'd be penalized for the time off. Well, here was my doctor's note, all right—for my career.
"That son of a bitch called me and told me to fess up or he was going to go public. After I told him he'd go to jail, he stopped acting like such a tough guy."
I started laughing uncontrollably, the tears spilling from my eyes, not because I was sad, but from the excess joy that was overwhelming me after so many horrendous events in a row. "That's just like him!" I clutched my side, trying to control the huge giggles that kept surfacing. A moment like this was exactly what I needed.
"He's pretty nice, even though I don't usually like dealing with the media." Ramón stared at me, amused. "It's that funny, huh?"
"You'd just have to know him." I laughed until it hurt.
***
Later that night, I left the hospital, heading to a hotel to stay with my parents. I needed to do a full debriefing with Ramón and his team before I left the city, so I would have to stick around for at least a couple of days.
It was the weirdest thing, because Ramón and his colleagues all treated me as if I was a war hero or something. I don't think I'd ever feel like I deserved the praise I received for my efforts with Roland, even if I saved lives. It was more like luck—I was lucky that my stupid obsession gave me the opportunity to get involved in a dangerous, yet positive way.
My apartment in the city was still mine, but my plan was to go home with my parents for a week or two, to reconnect with home after being involved in such a mess. It was a simpler place, one that would suit me well before I dove headfirst back into the city. I was looking forward to it, actually.
I didn't want to say that the west coast had been bad to me, but I also couldn't say it had been good either. One way or another, I had quite the story to tell, so I needed to find some way I could legally do that. A tinge of sadness washed over me as I boarded the plane. The last time I had been at that airport, I was a totally different person, a person that had since been transformed forever.
The question was, would I actually learn from my mistakes?
THREE MONTHS LATER...
I was sitting at a coffee shop, sipping my very average latte and watching the endless bustle of humans and machines passing the window outside. I loved New York City; there was no doubt about it. Every time I had coffee now, it reminded me of Roland. I had yet to find a cup as good as his—and I had tried all of the top spots in the city. Was I doomed to always long for his perfectly-prepared drinks? For some reason, I felt that if I could find a coffee that was better, I'd be able to push Roland even further out of my mind until he disappeared.
No, I didn't hate him, even though he had put me through so much. I still remembered every detail vividly and I had started to write it down, hoping to eventually compile my notes into a book. I hadn't gone back for my journal, so it would still be under the mattress in that upstairs bedroom. I wanted a record of this, the real story to hold onto. Inaction would undoubtedly lead to regret in this case.
I didn't actually know what happened to Roland. I left while he was still in the hospital on life support. I couldn't deal with it anymore. Yeah, I wanted him to get better, but it also really wasn't my business anymore. One way or another, his fate looked bleak. Ramón had promised to inform me of any safety concerns related to that whole situation if they arose.
Frederic survived—and barely dodged paralysis from the waist down; good for him—but he left the hospital and went straight to prison, just as Ramón had said. Thankfully, I hadn't heard from him, even though some part of me wanted to ask him those unanswered questions I still harbored. Maybe in another life...
Honestly, what happened still stung. I had learned to trust, to give myself to Roland and then Frederic—and been tremendously let down. So many cosmic coincidences brought us all together in this strange, deadly arrangement. The feelings I had for them both would linger for a while, that I could tell for sure. Still, I had so many good things in my life again. Positive things. There was no doubt that I had gotten my vacation—it was just as far from the norm as possible. Soon they would both fade away, only remembered by the words that I wrote about them in my journal.
Instead of regretting that I had taken the Starland case—oh yes, my mind definitely wanted to go there!—I realized that it had strengthened me more than anything ever had in my life. It would take me years to catalog all of the lessons I had learned. Anyone other than Marisa Taylor would have crumbled under the weight of the Starland Empire. Yep, I was certain of that.
Work was still great. Although Ramón had more or less told Pat what was up, I came clean to him, that the decision had been my own from the beginning and that I didn't meet Ramón until months into it. He laughed about it, but insisted that I had gone further than most journalists ever would for a story. The problem was, I couldn't publicly talk about this one. I'd find some way around it. Maybe that's what my "fictional" book was for.
My phone suddenly rang. I looked at the number; it was an area code I didn't recognize. Usually, I didn't answer calls from unknown numbers. Today, I decided to take a chance.
"Hello?" I said.
"Hi, is this Marisa Taylor?"
"Yes."
"This is Albert Rivers, lawyer for the Starland estate. How are you doing today?"
I bit my lip a little, nervous about where this might be heading. "Just fine, thanks. What is this call regarding?"
"I regret to inform you that Roland passed away s
everal months ago. I'm handling his will—and let me tell you it's been a real nightmare to sort everything out for such a huge operation—so I wanted to inform you that you're listed as a beneficiary. He left you one-hundred million dollars."
"What the—" My hand shot up to support my head and accidentally struck my drink, sending the glass onto the floor. It shattered loudly, coffee splattering everywhere.
"Ms. Taylor? Is everything all right?"
"Yeah, yeah, yeah," I said. "I just dropped my drink on the floor."
"Very well then. We'll be finalizing the financial distributions at the beginning of next week. I'll be contacting you again then, okay?"
"Sure," I said. "Gotta go. Thanks!" I hung up as I heard him begin the word goodbye. "Shit!" I said loudly, getting up and walking toward the counter. Two employees were already coming toward me with a towel and a broom. "I'm so sorry," I said.
"Don't worry," the girl said. "Not a big deal."
"Should I pay for it or something?"
"No, don't worry, ma'am."
"Thanks," I said. I grabbed my purse and laptop bag and got out of there. I wanted to be overwhelmed by stimuli. Sometimes it helped me think.
One-hundred million dollars. It sounded like a joke, a cruel joke. Also, it didn't sound at all like a joke. It reinforced my belief that Roland actually wasn't onto me, and that he had indeed trusted me when I had learned to trust him the least.
Honestly, I really liked spending my own money again, the dollars that I worked hard for. I lived well. What would I even do with a sudden acquisition of one-hundred million dollars? And that was it: Roland was gone. I would assume his dirty money got reclaimed by somebody, but as Ramón had said, he did have a gigantic legitimate business as well.
I looked up at the sky—the sun was starting to peek out from behind the clouds, overtaking the dreary day with glowing light. "Goodbye, you son of a bitch," I whispered, my parting words not malicious, but not entirely positive either. I had finally started to move on, and although this brought me back a little, it was a moment I needed, especially given the sudden news that I was filthy rich. I kind of wanted to call the lawyer back and just tell him no.
I felt someone tap my shoulder. I spun around, startled.
"Excuse me, miss. Can you spare any chance?" It was a homeless man, one wearing raggedy, worn clothes. His beard and hair were unkempt and messy. He was a man very familiar with life on the streets.
"Sure," I said. I reached into my purse and pulled out my wallet. The only bill I had was a hundred. Well, that was that. "I'm sorry, I can't—" In that moment, I had an epiphany. I stopped talking and just handed him the hundred. "Here. Please be wise with this money, okay?"
"Oh, gee, miss. Wow, thanks! I will!" He trotted off down the sidewalk, his walk drastically improved from the depressed hobble I had seen when I noticed him. Frankly, I didn't care what he spent the money on. He was happier than he was when I first saw him, so that made it worth it to me.
I decided that I would research charities that night, to find something big and meaningful and selfless to do with that money. Roland would have wanted me to hold on to all of it, to horde it and ensure that I lived like a queen for the rest of my life. My pet only deserves the best, I could hear him say.
Sorry Roland, I thought. You're not going to win this time. The man that had won everything his whole life was finally about to lose.
As I learned the hard way, you can't control everything. But this? This was mine, all mine.
THE END
###
Final Words:
If you made it all the way here to the end, I wanted to thank you from the bottom of my heart. This project has been huge for me, a gigantic undertaking that was unlike anything I've ever done before. There's a full novel here, one that I'm proud for actually finishing, and even prouder about the story that was crafted a little at a time, week by week. Writing it took me to places that I never would have expected going, and I can only hope that you, the readers, enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.
If you've got something to say about the series, please send a message to my publisher inbox bizotica@gmail.com and let me know what you think (or leave an Amazon review). I would highly encourage this, as it would mean the world to me.
Someday, I do intend to professionally edit/rewrite Learning to Trust, assembling all ninety-thousand words of it into a full-length work. I haven't decided just when that will happen, but I feel that eventually it needs to be done. One way or another, I'm thrilled to be sitting here in front of a giant project that has finally been completed.
As for now, I've got some new erotic romances in the works that I'll be starting very soon. I think you'll all be excited about them!
Once again, thank you so much for supporting me! I simply cannot say thank you enough.
-B.B. Roman
About B.B. Roman:
B.B. Roman is devoted to sexuality that is felt with both mind and body, writing to appeal to the full sexual imagination—both inside and outside of the traditional realm and limits of erotica. There's no holding back in Roman's worlds; the stories are allowed to flourish in any way they so choose. It's an always-changing world of emotional highs and lows, pleasure and pain, certainty and uncertainty.
Roman writes from a remote cabin, allowing that feeling of seclusion to feed into the stories. When not writing, Roman enjoys composing music for films and attempting to make the best cup of coffee possible at home, using a variety of contraptions and methods—and very dark, chocolatey beans. Oh, and also chasing around two very curious Weimaraners that never seem to tire out!
Discover other titles by B.B. Roman at Amazon.com:
Erotic Romance:
Learning to Trust (Interviewing the Billionaire)
Learning to Trust (Interviewing the Billionaire) Part 2: Full Submission
Learning to Trust (Interviewing the Billionaire) Part 3: The Offer
Learning to Trust (Interviewing the Billionaire) Part 4: New Life
Learning to Trust (Interviewing the Billionaire) Part 5: Sweet Temptation
Learning to Trust (Interviewing the Billionaire) Part 6: Paradigm Shift
Learning to Trust (Interviewing the Billionaire) Part 7: Changing Places
Learning to Trust (Interviewing the Billionaire) Part 8: Limits
Babysitter is Better
Hawaiian Delights
These Sinful Walls: A Church Saga – Book 1
These Sinful Walls: A Church Saga – Book 2
Rescue Romance: Holdup
Rescue Romance: Roadside Assistance
Rescue Romance: Fire Hazard
Gay Romance/Erotica:
Academic Affairs
The Low Rumble
Steamy Summer
Private Showing
Supernatural/Fantasy:
Kept and Bred (Fucked by the Wolves Part 1)
Taken and Forced (Fucked by the Wolves Part 2)
Used by the Pack (Fucked by the Wolves Part 3)
Dirty Demon
Dirtier Demon
He Came In Her (Sci-Fi)
Orgy Ad Infinitum
I Awoke a Vagina
Taboo:
Daddy Bred Me
Daddy Loves Curves
Daddy's Cabin
Daddy and His Friends
Daddy and My Friends
BDSM:
Pain and Promotion
Principal Sins
Whipped Into Shape
General Erotica:
My College Experiments
My College Experiments 2: Anal Evening
My College Experiments 3: BDSM Bliss
Watching the Cop Fuck My Girl (Cuckolding)
Sex Buffet (All You Can Fuck)
Train Me, Fuck Me
Bundles (Three Stories in Each):
Gay Romance Bundle
BDSM Bundle
Sexy Daddy Bundle
Connect with B.B. Roman/Bizotica Online:
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