Page 31 of Fraud
I stopped pacing, letting myself fall onto the bed. “I know. I’m sorry. Look, take what you need. I’ll figure it out.”
Silence.
“Thanks, asshole.”
I smiled. “Welcome, moocher. Talk to you later.”
I set the phone on the bed and looked around the room.
Well, I guess it’s the vending machine for breakfast today.
Thanks, little brother.
Thanks a lot.
After giving my little brother free rein of my bank account, I feasted on a bag of potato chips for breakfast and headed over to the college to do a little research.
The fresh air wouldn’t hurt either.
Last night hadn’t gone according to plan.
Hell, this entire experience since the day I’d arrived wasn’t going according to plan.
At this moment, I had enough to reveal Katelyn O’Malley as Laura Stone. I could go to any major paper and present my evidence, and it would be a done deal.
But it wasn’t enough.
I didn’t know thewhyyet. And wasn’t that the crux of every great story?
Why did Kate feel the need to hide behind an alter ego? Why did she feel the need to hide at all?
If I didn’t discover that, someone else would, and then all this would be meaningless.
There was also a part of me—the side of me that loved flirting with her, that loved touching her and seeing her react—that wasn’t ready to leave.
And wasn’t that the definition of an internal crisis, if I’d ever seen one?
But I also excelled at denial, so I set my sights on the college and decided to take a stroll through the idyllic setting.
It was a beautiful campus. I could understand why someone would end up here—professional or otherwise. There were mature green trees, perfect for study sessions or a long lunch break, and winding pathways to use to discuss philosophy or burn off a few calories. The buildings were modern without overwhelming the landscape.
And, most of all, everyone was friendly.
Almost instantly, I felt a sense of community. Kate had spoken of it at great length last night over dinner—her love for this college and how it felt like a family rather than a job.
It made me wonder what had happened to her own family.
Thinking back to our various dinner topics, it was then that I realized she’d never spoken of a family.
Not once.
On several occasions, she’d mentioned Jane.
And her coworkers.
But no siblings. No parents.
I’d been on plenty of first dates to know that not everyone spilled their life story over dinner and dessert, but Kate didn’t strike me as the type of person to omit something.
