Page 57 of Where You Are

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Page 57 of Where You Are

After a while Mayzie finds us – well, I kind of told her bodyguard where we were on one of my calls, but anyway, my work here is done, and there’s nothing left to do but leave our lead singer in the hands of his brave and loving wife, while I humbly make my way back down to my room, hoping and praying that come tomorrow, the end of this nightmare will be in our sights.

Chapter Thirty-One

Melanie

“Are we there yet?”I whine. “How much further?”

“Christ, we’ve only been walking for ten minutes! What happened to the runner who turned into a walker who turned back into a runner again?” Ben scoffs with a shake of his head as he leads me down a busy street in the nearest expat community to the resort. It’s full of small businesses like cafés, wireless stores and laundromats.

Since the night he tried to make a connection on the beach, Ben and I have thankfully both been able to shake it off and move on, enjoying the same oddball friendship we did before, only a little stronger. Our banter still consists of acting like we can’t stand each other, and when there’s nothing to talk about we both seem to enjoy coexisting in silence.

“When someone like you says they have a surprise, it kind of sets me on edge. You’re not balloons and cheerful gestures. I’ve never even heard you use the word surprise before today. You’re up to something.” My tone is cynical as I mosey beside him.

“Just calm your tits, we’re almost there,” he quips back.

He takes my hand as we cross the crowded street, which isn’t unheard of for him. Like when he came to my rescue the night I cut my foot, it’s a gentlemanly gesture he just can’t shake.

Once we’re across, it’s only two more blocks up before he stops us in front of a glass window with a hanging circular neon sign that reads:

JOEY’sin red writing, andAll American Grubin blue type-font around it. It glows like a beacon and my jaw drops as I stare inside at the cheap linoleum tables, and red and black tiled floor. On the far wall, a flat screen is playing some kind of entertainment news show.

“Now when was the last time you had a real American burger?” Ben asks with his hands on his hips, looking mighty pleased with himself. “And I’m not talking about the various international Mickey D’s, but the real deal.”

“Oh my God…” I exclaim in wonder, not even trying to keep my mouth from dropping open. I can already feel it start to water as I smell the grease and stare through the window at the sparse customers seated at tables with burger and fry platters sitting in little red plastic baskets before them. “How’d you find this place?”

“Stumbled on it yesterday when I came out to get some things for the boat,” he explains. “Apparently, it went up two months ago though. The owner is an expat that didn’t care about giving up his American citizenship, but didn’t want to part with the cuisine and decided to try and make his living serving it up over here.”

“No shit,” I sigh as I shake my head. “So you ate here yesterday?” I turn and quirk and eyebrow at him.

“No, I found it yesterday. Don’t worry, I wasn’t going to enjoy a burger without you.”

Ben doesn’t waste any more time as he leads us inside and not ten minutes later, I’m biting into a juicy piece of heaven that I had no idea how much I was missing. It truly is the kind of thing that you’d find at your favorite dive back in the States, and the fries are brown and crispy, just the way I love them. Ben and I don’t even speak for a while because we’re both too busy enjoying our artery-clogging meal.

“That was so good,” I say around my last bite as I crumple the wrapper and drop it in my now empty basket. “We can never tell Sasha about this place though. It will be our secret refuge.”

“Why?” he asks, as he takes a drink of his soda.

“She’s so against American food. It’s not healthy and she will not hesitate to lecture us on the subject each and every time,” I chuckle, feeling so satisfied. I sit back and pick up my own drink, bringing the straw to my lips as I relax and let my eyes wander to the burbling TV, even though its volume is too low to clearly hear it. Whatever show is on is just coming back from a commercial break, and some tanned host with a blinding smile and the wardrobe of a French hipster is introducing the next headline.

The shot cuts away from the host, and I freeze at the image that now inhabits the screen. Time seems to slow down and my heart jumps up to the base of my throat where it starts pounding like a stampede of wild horses. I stare in disbelief at the photo of my brother and his wife, cozied up together at some fancy event with the words:PR Sexual Harassment Scandalin large block letters at the base of the screen.

I drop my cup and am oblivious to it spilling to the floor, ice cubes scattering as I scramble to stand out of my seat and rush to the TV, trying desperately to hear what the voice of the host is saying.

“… lawsuit building after Costa harassed Krasinki’s wife, Mayzie.”

What? This can’t…Random thoughts, mainly of disbelief, fly through my head at random as I strain to hear more, not taking my eyes off the screen.

“Krasinski released a statement the morning after the incident over two weeks ago, urging any other victims of Costa’s to come forward, and during that time span, three additional women have done so.”

Harassed… Mayzie… two weeks ago. My mind is pulling in the most impactful words of the story as my eyes continue to try to process what they’re seeing. I barely notice Ben ambling up beside me and asking what’s going on.

“It’s my brother,” I say absently, my voice breathless because it all seems to have left my lungs. “And his wife. Oh my God, she was…” I trail off as the words lose their ability to make it from my buzzing brain to my mouth.

I can’t feel my legs holding me up as the TV goes to a split screen of Jack and Mayzie in a photo on one side, and Jack’s presumed agent that did something to her in a video on the other, being led to a police car. Before I can blink, the shot goes back to the host as he wraps up the story, before cutting to the next one.

“That’syour brother?” Ben asks incredulously from my side, where I all but forgot he was standing.

I nod as I turn to him. My entire body is shaking and my wonderful burger is threatening to make a reappearance.




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