Mr. CEO(121)

“I'm going to dig down in the industrial areas, maybe in some of the computer shops,” Nathan says. “If she is staying in Miami, she's more likely to go to the cultures and areas she's familiar with. That's the poor, the techies, and the industrial areas. So I'll start canvassing there. Do you know if she speaks Spanish? It might make certain areas more penetrable.”

I shake my head. “Honestly Nathan, I have no idea. Do you speak Spanish?”

The former Green Beret gives me a smirk and nods. “Si. He estudiado durante diez a?os, y puedo hablar en niveles cercanos a nativos.”

“I have no damn clue what you just said, but I'll take you at your word. All right, stay in touch.”

Nathan nods while I wipe my lips with my napkin and stand up. “If I find her?”

“Stay close, get in contact with me,” I tell him. “She doesn't trust you, I think. Also... I need to apologize to her, and tell her some very important things.”

“I understand. See you later.”

I leave the diner and get in my rental, driving down to the University of Miami. I drive as slow as I can over the neighborhood, even going through the U itself. A couple of girls give me looks, but I'm not looking for ass, I'm looking for Katrina. Finally, I pull over into a diagonal parking space, and I walk around campus a little, seeing if maybe I can spot her. Lots of girls, none of them look at all like Katrina, and I sit down, frustrated. I stare at my hands, wishing I could take back what I said, what a dumbass I was being.

“Hey man, you look like you need a friend to talk to,” someone says, and I look up, seeing what could only be the typical college campus bum. Slightly soiled shirt flaps untucked over his old jeans, and he's wearing Birkenstocks for f*ck's sake. I take it back, he's not a bum, he's a Social Justice Warrior, probably. “Wanna talk?”

“No... well, okay,” I reply, and the dude takes a seat on the grass. “Just... it's about a girl.”

“What about her?” the SJW asks, relaxing back onto his hands. “Like, did she cuck you or something?”

“What? Cuck? Hell no,” I say, startled into laughing. “I just f*cked up, that’s all.”

“How so?” the guy asks, and I shrug.

“We... we're trying to get something done, something really important to her and really to me too, but I chickened out. You see, if she does what she wants, then there's a good chance I'm out a ton of money. It's not good money, it's dirty as hell actually, but still... I've been living the good life for a long time, and I panicked. I tried to talk her into a safer path. She walked out on me, and since then, I've been trying to find her.”

“If you do, what will you tell her?” the SJW asks. I'm reminded of my conversation with Nathan this morning, and I chuckle.

“I'll tell her the truth. That she's more important to me than any money, that I woke up the past two days miserable because she's not there, and that if it means following her to hell, I'd rather do that than have all the money in the world.”

The guy nods, then leans forward. “My advice is to tell her all of that, as soon as you can. That, and probably beg forgiveness for being an idiot.”

I laugh once, harshly, and look at the guy. “I thought guys like you were supposed to be all about being nonjudgmental.”

The guy laughs and gets to his feet. “If I was who I look like, maybe. I'm just a psychology doctoral student doing a study. Thanks. And don't worry, this isn't going in any paper. Good luck, man.”

The guy leaves, and I get up, determined to find Katrina even if I have to tear Miami apart. I head back to my car to start my search again when I feel my phone vibrate and my ringer go off. I look, and it's Nathan. “Yeah, you found her?”

“Yeah, she's by the Miami Dade North Campus, close to Opa Locka,” Nathan says. “I'm uploading you a GPS location of where I am now.”

My phone buzzes and a map pulls up. I didn't even know the thing did that. I look, and realize I can get there in about twenty minutes. “Okay, I see it. I'm at the U, I'll jump on 95 up to there. Keep her in sight, Nathan.”

“Will do,” Nathan says. “She's been talking to some people, but I'm out of her direct sight. Don't worry Jackson, I know what I'm doing.”

“No doubt. I'll be there ASAP.” I start my engine and rush to the interstate, jumping on and driving north as quickly as I can. The traffic isn't bad, it's midday and the rush hour isn't for quite a while, so I make good time, getting off at Opa Locka in only fifteen minutes. I find Nathan's signal, and see his Tahoe parked in the parking lot of a flight school and what the sign says is a pilot supply store.

“Nathan,” I say when he rolls the window down. “Where is she?”

“Parking lot over there,” Nathan says, pointing across the street. I look, and see nothing. When I turn to look at him, he smirks. “Seriously. She went inside the tan building over there just five minutes ago. I think it's a small airline, maybe a puddle jumper type place.”

“What for?” I ask, and Nathan shrugs.

“Most likely she's close to being tapped out financially, and those sorts of guys can sometimes work deals.”

The door to the building opens, and I see Katrina step out, her backpack over her shoulder. She's changed shirts, wearing something almost normal, but there's no mistaking that angel's face or the short hair. “There. Come on Nathan, I can't let her go.”