Redeemed (Dirty Air #4)(8)

I’m tempted to say no. The bottoms of my feet ache after running around the daycare all morning. My head throbs from a permanent headache, forcing me to squint every time I enter the brightly lit kitchen. All I want is a nice shower, enough Tylenol to knock out an elephant, and my bed. The simple things in life.

But…I need the money. Any dollar counts toward flying to Italy and my father faster. According to a Google search and Brooke’s social media FBI skills, Matteo Accardi, AKA my long-lost father, lives his best life in some small Italian lakeside town. Flights cost about the same as donating one of my kidneys. Sadly, I checked on giving one away, but Brooke warned me against it. She said to be patient and save up money. But it’s easy for her to say that. Who can think, let alone save up money, when my dad is literally alive?

Brooke is the realist in this relationship, and she burst my dreamer bubble before it got out of control. She’s right. Kidneys are like twins. They shouldn’t be apart. So, sadly, I have both and I’m stuck working grueling hours to save up every single dollar.

The DJ in my head plays “Work” by Rihanna, clearly approving of the decision to push through my fatigue for extra money.

I nod my head. “Sure.”

“Great! Thank you! You can check with Jamie for my table numbers.” She rushes out of the room.

Look at me being such a giver.

I find out Teri’s tables from Jamie before I take my minuscule five-minute break. People think I’m a smoker, but I like to stand in the alleyway behind the restaurant and breathe in the stale air of New York City. It’s my moment of quiet in a day filled with noise.

I step out into the alley and halt. Ugh. There’s a random couple defiling my dumpster oasis, with the man practically inhaling the girl’s face. Gross. But something about the way the guy gropes her has me nodding my head in weird fascination. What kind of couple can hook up by the trash?

The kind that are so desperate for each other they couldn’t wait to get home.

I wouldn’t know that kind of passion. The only thing close to that is my commitment to working hard to afford the basics in life. Boyfriends are only a distraction, and they require a lot more attention than watering plants. I don’t have the time or energy for a relationship. That’s why I stick to some meaningless hookups every now and then to satisfy an itch. Plus, I sure as hell don’t have the ability to trust someone to that degree. My mom made sure of that. She might have been awful, but she taught me some important lessons.

Don’t do drugs.

Don’t have sex without a condom.

Don’t have kids unless I’m absolutely, positively, five-hundred percent ready because they can’t be returned at the nearest mall or grocery store.

And most of all, don’t fall in love. It’s messy, blinding, and bound to be a disaster.

I turn back toward the door to give these two lovers privacy. My old sneaker squeaks and the man turns to yell at me.

“Hey! Go away, you creep!”

Me? I’m not the one hooking up next to yesterday’s trash. I look over my shoulder to apologize. My jaw drops at what I find.

That no-good liar. Teri isn’t picking up her mom’s medication. How can she be, when she’s too busy choking on this guy’s tongue? I scowl. Teri officially sucks and if I didn’t want her tips, I’d ditch all her tables in revenge.

Why do people need to lie to get their way? Doesn’t she realize she could’ve told me she wanted a date with Mr. Dumpster Kink and I would’ve still said yes? There was no need to lie about her mother needing medicine.

People suck. Well, people have always sucked, but they suck times ten thousand right now.

Breathe, girl. You want the money. Who cares if someone you barely know lied to you?

Because it squashes the hope that there are still decent people out there with morals.

Teri doesn’t bother explaining, and I don’t stick around waiting to hear an apology. There’s only two months left before I bust out of this city. And thanks to Teri, I’ll be a few bills closer to my end goal.

Someone cue queen Riri because this girl is about to work, work, work, work, work, work.





4





Chloe





After arriving yesterday in Lake Como and knocking out from an intense case of jet lag in the run-down bed-and-breakfast near the center of town, I finally walk the main road of the village.

Lake Como is a beautiful lakeside town surrounded by mountain ranges. The village truly is something stolen straight out of history, with old stucco buildings and cobblestone roads. My charming temporary home has a population the size of La Guardia airport on a Tuesday. Seriously, Google told me less than two thousand people live here. Not to mention George Clooney has a house here.

Yes. I’m talking about that George Clooney.

Did I take a gamble by never messaging Matteo before to let him know I was his long-lost daughter who wanted to meet him after all these years? Probably. But I couldn’t risk him shutting himself off to me and claiming I was some scammer. So instead, I took a risk and decided to introduce myself the old-fashioned way—in person while shitting bricks. But first, I need to find out where he lives.

Small shops line the streets, with people waving at each other and children running around. It comforts me to see the locals caring about one another. It’s like a fairy tale, with people stopping to have a conversation. Their kindness makes me hopeful that someone knows who Matteo is and where I can find him. Unfortunately, Brooke’s stalking abilities only go so far. Matteo’s address wasn’t public information, much to our frustration.