Learning to Trust: Curtain Falls Read Free Page A

was okay, but it would just have to wait for now.
    Many things passed through my mind while Frederic was g one. I hoped he was actually going to get some food, not carrying out a murder or an act of espionage. I had no way to tell anyhow, unless he came back covered in blood.
    What was it like to be Frederic? At some point, he was Roland's right-hand man, even if he wasn't in this moment. I know he had worked hard to get to his position, but what did that really even mean? I remembered when he had told me about his job managing Roland's reputation. Had that just been a bunch of bullshit to distract me from his real involvement in Starland Enterprises ?
    In reporting, I worked hard and took shitty starting positions, working my way up by doing other people's dirty work. But what was dirty work in a world of corporate espionage? I had an idea of what that meant, but I wasn't sure if I should entertain it. Did Frederic have to go through some situation like I did, one where he unknowingly committed an act of violence in exchange for his boss's approval? Maybe, he knew when he did it. Roland could have handed him a gun and said "Take care of this guy, he's really bothering me. If you don't, I'll kill you. If you do, you get a promotion. "
    Or maybe none of this was true. Maybe he did actually manage Roland's reputation and that was it. Ramón had said that the FBI didn't know a lot about him. Was that a good or bad thing? God, there were so many unanswered questions, so many avenues of thought that I could peruse.
    Being in the middle of this, I felt so bad for on-screen characters I had abused in movies, disgusted at myself for shouting my unheeded, unrequested advice at the screen during tense situations and growling at them when they didn't follow it. When you're safe in your living room, cuddling with a glass of wine, you're usually more clearheaded than that poor sap that's running from the mob lord, battling a psychotic killer, or caught in the middle of a growing, multi-billion dollar scandal. This was hard .
    Never again , I thought.
    When the door swung open, I grabbed my phone like it was a weapon, brandishing it in my hand to use against the advancing intruder—Frederic. "God, you scared me," I whined. The smell of fried food suddenly made me realize just how hungry I had grown during his absence . I was almost drooling.
    "Sorry it took so long. That place is a local favorite. They feature it on TV sometimes. I hope you're okay with burgers and fries."
    "I don't think anything sounds better right now."
    "What about a milkshake?"
    I giggled. "Really?"
    "Yeah, it's not soda in those cups . "
    "Oh," I said jokingly. "I was hoping it was whiskey."
    "Just eat!" Frederic smiled, his youth still prominent, yet obviously diminishing. Ten more years of this and he'd probably look like an old man. Maybe he'd get promoted or quit before that and save himself. I didn't need to think anymore though—I needed to eat.
    Oh my god , the food was absolute bliss. It was everything they told you not to eat—a greasy bacon cheeseburger, a huge pile of grease-glistening fries, and a real ice cream chocolate milkshake—but it was absolutely perfect. For some reason, it felt like a last meal , the sort of thing you'd request before heading to the electric chair. Binge and then let them cook you alive in the chair. It was such a ma cabre thought while I ate.
    "I didn't eat like this growing up," Frederic said.
    "Really?" I asked, somewhat shocked. It made perfect sense, but I'd never really considered it before.
    "Sure," he said, chewing his bite of burger before continuing. "This food is certainly available in France now, but we don't really like you Americans do."
    "God," I remarked, "this stuff reminds me of my childhood. It reminds me of growing up."
    "I only started to eat this stuff when I came here. But I don't eat it that often. I try to make it a treat. For special moments."
    "Didn't you have fries there? They're called French