Here is the continuation of Haley and April's story, told in Haley's point of view. Although I plan to revisit April once or twice along the way, I'm sure you can tell I'm much more comfortable writing as Haley. This is, after all, Haley's story of searching for her love, and should be told by her.
Please have patience, as this installment sets up most of the rest of the story, and all that sexy writing we come to this site for. All comments are appreciated and I look forward to hearing from any and all of you. Thanks for reading.
I was shaken out of my misery by the sound of the ringing phone...
My hand trembled as it tentatively reached for the receiver. The phone rang once, twice, three times. I was in a daze, so afraid, so anxious. On the fourth ring I snapped out of it and picked up.
"Hello?" My voice sounded hollow and empty, much as my house, bed, and heart felt. I sounded like a mixture between a bullfrog and someone with a heavy cold. The thought almost made me laugh, and I think I finally realized how scrambled my mind had become.
"Hello, Ms Jennings?" All too perky a voice for my present state of mind greeted me.
"No, I'm Haley Jenson. Can I help you?"
"Oh, ah, yeah, Jenson, right. Anyway, I'm Christi Prentice and I was wondering if we could have a little talk about your missing...ah, friend. I need details for my story and was wondering if we could meet for-"
"Who do you represent Miss Prentice?" I was rather annoyed. The police had released a statement, and our local news station had been kind enough to give it about thirty seconds of air time in the last three days. I'm not a big fan of the media anyway, having watched them scavenge for any bit of story they can get, be it true or false, on some of my bigger cases.
"Look, Ms Jenson," she said this with an exasperated tone in her high pitched voice, which made it all the more unpleasant, "it's obvious to me something is going on here, and it would be a shame for you to hold back pertinent information due to wanting to keep your...ah, lifestyle choice a secret."
I saw red. Who the hell was this little tabloid bimbo reporter to tell me what was right or wrong? How dare she treat me like this? I slammed down the phone without a thought.
My heart began to pound and my eyes filled with tears. Damn it, I had worked for so long to attain the level of respect that I finally had in my profession. Sure, my colleagues knew who I was, and that April wasn't just a friend or acquaintance. Was I so sheltered by a group of kind and unobtrusive coworkers that I'd forgotten how some cruel people reacted? God, wait till this story got out. What would they say about me, about April? Had I done the right thing by calling the police?
My head was spinning as I aimlessly paced around the house, my light buzz from the wine replaced by a sense of restlessness. Frustrated and alone, I decided it was time to get some real help. _____
I logged onto my laptop in the office of my little beach condo and began answering the tedious mountain of emails from the office, clients, and my family and friends. Many showed sincere concern about the well-being of my little April, and that calmed me down some. Thank God, some people really did care about her and what happened to us.
I scrolled down the list, eventually burnt out on answering all the lawyer bullshit emails, and saw an address I hadn't seen in quite some time. It was a new email from ChloeBear317, an old girlfriend and close buddy of mine. Talk about a gift sent from heaven.
The message simply read;
