***Kyle***
I got up and rushed out of my penthouse, while I contacted my driver and asked him to get the car ready. I called Bill afterward and asked him to meet up at a certain location because there was no time to waste. My driver was already set for me, waiting to take me to my location.
All that mattered to me was that Cindy had been found and a lot of the questions I had in my mind would be answered. I picked up my phone again to call Bill, making sure that he was ready to join me. Bill was set, and I was happy at how fast he was. It wasn't long before my driver picked Bill up and drove us to where the new private investigator was.
I sat back in my car, allowing Bill to meet up with him since the original plan was to allow Bill to impersonate me. I watched as he greeted Bill, handing him a brown envelope which, I guessed, contained every information I needed about Cindy. Soon after, Bill walked up to my car and passed the envelope to me. I was pleased. I looked into it and saw that it contained Cindy's house address and where she worked.
I told Bill to pay him double what I had originally agreed to pay. Bill did as told, and we were soon on our way to Cindy's house. I was nervous. What would her reaction be when she sees me? What if she wants nothing to do with me? What if she has gotten married or has gotten back with her boyfriend who broke her heart?
There was only one way to find out. My driver drove to the description of the private investigator and finally, we got to a particular apartment that looked small and cozy, almost secluded from other houses. My driver came to a halt and Bill advised that he go ahead first before I tagged along. It wasn't a bad idea, but I couldn't wait for him to go first.
I got out of the car before he could argue further and headed for Cindy's house. Bill followed from behind while my driver waited in the car for us. I couldn't believe that I could be as desperate as I was. We got to the entrance of the house and knocked gently on the door. A middle-aged woman opened and asked what we wanted on her property.
"We are sorry to disturb you, ma'am. We are looking for our friend, Cindy," Bill said in my stead. The woman looked at us like lost puppies, took two steps forward, and scanned her environment before asking, "Who do you say you're looking for?" This time around, I told Bill to hold on while I talked to the woman.
"Ma'am, we mean no harm. We would like to see your daughter, Cindy. She's a longtime friend of mine and I heard she just moved to New York, and I'd like to see her, if it's not so much of a bother to you," I replied. I watched the woman look at us confused. Perhaps she might be wondering how I got to know her daughter.
"I have no daughter with such a name as Cindy. I think you have the wrong address, gentlemen. If you excuse me, I have other business to take care of, and I would like to get back to them," the woman replied calmly. What does she mean? Cindy lives here, I was sure of that. I took out the envelope Bill had handed to me and checked again. It was correct, I was at the right address. What was going on?
"I'm sorry ma'am, but are you sure?" I asked stupidly. Who wouldn't be sure of their daughter's name? The woman looked at me before she said, "Have a nice day," and proceeded to close the door. Just as the door was being shut, I heard a young lady's voice from inside, "Mom, who's that?"
"Cindy!" I gasped. That's Cindy's voice. I forgot about my gentlemanly side for a minute and barged my way through, letting myself into the woman's house. "Cindy?" I called the young lady who had spoken earlier. "It's me, Kyle, remember?" She looked at me like I had gone crazy and asked me, "Who the hell are you?"
Why was she acting like she didn't know me? Was she trying to put up an act because her mom was around? "C'mon Cindy, don't act like you don't know me. It's Kyle. We met at The Tipsy Gypsy bar in Beverly Hills. Remember now?" I asked, hoping that she wouldn't keep denying me and making me look stupid in front of her mother and my assistant, Bill.
"You are mistaken, Mister. I do not know you, neither have I been to Beverly Hills all my life!" she uttered. Why was she lying? I took a close look at her to be sure that I wasn't the one making a mistake. It was Cindy, the voice, the face, and the way she walked. The few differences I spotted were that Cindy had pierced her nose and had drawn a tattoo on her wrist that was almost hidden.
But it was Cindy, or was I wrong? I knew the woman I had slept with, the one whose virginity I had taken, the one who had caused my heart to ache and had given me sleepless nights, but here she was, denying ever meeting me. I was embarrassed, but I didn't want to back out, not until she had accepted that she had at least met me at a bar in Beverly Hills.
I started again, "I know you might not remember well because it was late in the night and our rendezvous was a one-night thing, but can you at least remember the name, Kyle?" I asked, hoping that this time she would say that she had remembered.
I watched her face turn irritated immediately. She tried to walk out on me, but I held her left hand back, pleading with her not to leave. She turned angrily and looked at me, her eyes bloodshot, as she used her right hand to descend heavily on my face.
I came crashing on the floor.