Page 11 of My Super Sexy Spy
LEIGH:What was the crazy thing that happened?
ME:Some FBI agent followed me, then questioned me about a father I don’t even know. It was beyond bizarre. I just want to forget about it. Venice here I come!
LEIGH:Have fun and don’t forget lots of selfies!
* * *
Liam aka Leigh
I shut down the computer and considered what I’d learned. I picked up my burner cell from the hotel room desk and dialed.
“Have you made contact with the target?” the man on the other side of the phone answered without any prelude.
“Yes. I’ve made contact,” I said. “So has the FBI.”
“Shit, those fuckers. I suppose we should have guessed they would approach her. What did you learn?”
I got up and looked into the mirror situated above the desk in the hotel room across the street from the Northern Liberties Plaza Grande condo complex.
My jaw was scruffy, scratchy. I need a haircut and a shave, in that order. Because it looked like I was going to be meeting the well renowned travel blogger Beth Ryan in the very near future.
I tried to tell myself I wasn’t excited by the idea. I was an excellent liar after all.
“You need to book me a ticket to Rome.”
3
Two Weeks Later
Venice
Beth
It was surreal.I’d gone from a near-recluse to here.
HERE! Venice.
I was sitting at the hotel bar, looking out across the lagoon at Venice and all its beauty just waiting for me to explore tomorrow. And I’m pretty sure the guy who, I fucking kid you not, looked like Charlie Hunnam, was checking me out.
Blond, built, a little scruff on his chin. He didn’t look Italian, but not many people in Venice did. It was a total tourist destination. He was definitely out of my league. Way outside of my comfort zone. But most likely the best revenge fuck I could have to get over Jared.
Flirting with this guy was probably heading directly into danger. For the first time in a long time I was willing to plunge forward.
Can you get some pictures with some hot guys? Your blog is the Lover’s Guide to Travel. How awesome would it be if people could see you falling in love?
I’d snorted when Andrea gave me that piece of advice. The Lover angle was just the hook I’d used when I’d started writing. A fantasy. An escape from my own shitty life at the time.
This guy definitely looked like a fantasy.
I considered how I might look to him. Dark black hair that fell straight to my chin, bangs which I thought made me look edgy. I’d gone all out for this trip since the point was to have pictures. No yoga pants or T-shirts; instead, I wore a sleek, short, black dress with a pair of funky, red, platform shoes I’d seen in a second-hand store in Philly and thought looked cool.
It was sort of another thing I’d lost being homeless. When you’re trying to survive, you don’t think about fashion choices or what looks good on you. You think about what’s going to keep you warm.
Tucked inside my condo, I didn’t have to worry about how I looked, either. Who would care? I didn’t even think Jared would care, but apparently, he did.
My nose ring was my only message to the world about who I was. It’s why, during all that time with Jared, I hadn’t wanted to take it out. It wasn’t the best message. I’d gotten it before leaving my mom’s apartment out of spite because she thought nose rings were disgusting.
So, my single fashion choice was really afuck youto my mom. Before coming to Italy, I’d thought about taking it out for good, but it felt wrong. However, instead of hiding it like I had done with Jared for two years, maybe it was time to decide what I liked. So, I’d replaced the half circle with a full circle. Now it was out and present all the time.
