Troublemaker - 14. Chapter Fourteen

Barrett

I parked my car in a large strip mall where the agency was located. I spotted the building that was between an Asian grocery store and a boutique and turned off the ignition. My hands squeezed the handle of the steering wheel as I continued to gaze at the building’s entrance, my heart squeezing inside my chest.

I didn’t know why I was so nervous to enter inside. Perhaps I was feeling this way because I feared this agency would lead to another dead end, like numerous other times I tried to find my mother. I didn’t want to get my hopes up to only crash land once again, feeling more hopeless than before.

However, based on what I researched online, this agency had a good reputation for finding the biological families of other clients. One case in particular became a story in the national news a couple years ago, and watching clips of how a fifty-year-old woman managed to find both her parents who were still alive and have been searching for their missing daughter for decades after she was kidnapped as a newborn. Watching them as they reunited at an airport pulled at my heartstrings, and I hoped I could find my mother and reunite with her too, preferably before I turn fifty.

I was only five when I was given up to the state, but before that, I had memories of my mother and most of them were happy ones. I didn’t remember anything about my dad, so I just assumed he wasn’t part of the picture. And the memories I did have of her weren’t plentiful considering how young I was and were becoming more faded and distorted over time.

The last memory of my mother’s face was of sadness as she kissed me on my forehead before walking away. Another person, a social worker most likely, then guided me to a car, all while I was crying and reaching my hands out to the empty void where she disappeared into. That was the most vivid memory I had of her, the trauma of being abandoned by the person who gave me life and supposedly loved me causing that particular memory to be very unforgettable.

And because I was so young, I had very little information about where my mother lived or other details that I could use to find her again. Hopefully, this agency would help me in scavenging those details that would point directly to her. I had so many questions that needed to be answered such as why she gave me up to foster care, was she actively searching for my whereabouts as well, or did she not care at all about where I was and whether I was even still alive.

I took a deep breath and squeezed the locket in my hand. I needed to focus on working with this agency, and if they did indeed find my mother, then those questions that have tormented me for years could finally be answered.

I willed myself to exit my car and approach the entrance. A chime was signaled when I opened the door and was introduced to cool air that helped ease my nerves a bit. I was inside a small waiting room with a warm color palette and a few chairs that lined one wall.

“Good morning! May I help you?”

I turned to see a middle-aged woman with bright red hair smiling at me through a large reception window.

“Hi. I have an appointment at eight today with Cynthia Grant.”

The receptionist eyed her computer screen. “Your name, please?”

“Barrett Jones.”

A crash was suddenly heard along with a few curses.

The receptionist turned her head. “You okay there, honey?”

Another curse was spewed before a feminine voice said, “I’m fine.”

The door then sprung open, and a young woman appeared. She seemed a bit frazzled with her blond hair tied into a messy bun and what appeared to be a coffee stain on her light blue button up shirt.

“Hi! I’m Cynthia Grant! You must be Barrett!” the woman exclaimed.

I nodded. “That’s me.”

“You’re early.”

“Oh. Sorry. I didn’t know I was supposed to arrive right at eight.”

“No, no! You’re fine. I love punctuality. Come and follow me to my office.”

I eyed the receptionist who shook her head and giggled.

Well, this was going to be an experience.

I followed Cynthia through the door that led into a wide hallway. I spotted a table with a coffee machine placed crookedly on the left side with a large coffee stain on the floor below it. We entered her office at the very end of the hallway. The space was small, and only the bare essentials were here, which included a desk, chair, and computer. Several empty cups were strewn on the desk’s surface along with a few files and a notepad.

“Go ahead and sit down. Just give me a moment to find some napkins or something for this stain.”

I sat down on a rickety metal chair as Cynthia scoured her desk drawers for anything that would blot out the stain on her shirt. She sighed, coming up empty.

“I’m so sorry. I must look so unprofessional right now.”

“No, you’re good. We all have our bad days at work.”

“You’re too kind.” Cynthia looked down at her shirt and muttered, “My first client and this is what happens.”

What? I’m her first case? Is she new to this agency? Is she even qualified enough to help me find my mother?

Cynthia must have sensed my worry because she quickly said, “Not that I’m incapable of helping you! In fact, ever since you called to make an appointment with me, I’ve been searching through different databases and making several calls to other agencies to get a headstart. Any information I found to be useful is written on this notepad. Take a look.”

Cynthia pushed forward a pale yellow notepad that unfortunately caused a cup to tip over and spill a small amount of coffee onto the paper. She uttered several more profanities, mostly of the f-word variety, as she held the notepad and shook it.

Looking at the damage, Cynthia sighed heavily and dropped her head onto her desk with a thud. I rubbed the back of my neck, unsure of how I should respond to this. I could tell she was already dedicated to helping me as her client, but if these screw ups were common, I didn’t think I would let her work on my case.

Raising her head, she looked at me with tired eyes and said, “I’m so, so sorry. I’m not usually this clumsy. It’s just that you’re my first client, and I feel like I have to prove to myself that I’m capable at this job, especially since I was adopted and was also left wondering who my birth parents were, so there’s that emotional attachment and… I’m rambling, aren’t I?”

I nodded and offered her a forced smile.

“I don’t blame you if you want to find another agent to take your case. At least one who’s less prone to spilling black coffee everywhere.”

I was tempted to do just that, but I instead said, “You said you already found some information that could be useful… Can I have a look?”

With raised eyebrows, Cynthia said, “Uh, sure. It’s all on this notepad. Most of it’s still legible.”

I accepted the notepad from her and scanned the information she thought was important. Most of it confirmed that my mother was living in the same state, at least before I was taken into foster care. The rest of the information didn’t really narrow down on where she could be, and my hopes to reunite with her were fading quickly. I then looked at the bottom of the page where the coffee spilled and narrowed my eyes to see if I could still decipher the writing.

“What’s ‘Barrett Jones the 2nd ' mean?” I asked.

“Oh. One of the agencies I contacted was the one that first took you in. Unfortunately, the person I talked to could only find one file under your name and not a lot of information was on it. But I asked her to send me a digital copy anyway, and after taking a look myself, I saw that there’s a suffix next to your name, a Roman numeral two to be specific.”

“Really?”

“Yes. It’s barely legible on the file, but if that is indeed a suffix, that means your birth father could have the same name as you.”

I almost lost my breath. “No way.”

“I then searched around on social media, hoping to find a Barrett Jones who is old enough to be your father and has physical characteristics similar to yours.”

“And did you find a possible match?”

Cynthia looked down. “Unfortunately, no. There were plenty of accounts with the name, but none of them were a close match. I then got caught up in searching for other possible leads.”

“I see…”

“Again, I’m sorry.”

I smiled and said, “Don’t be. Me possibly having the same name as my father is totally new information I hadn’t known before. I might do some searching on my own.”

“True. Oh! And I haven’t even touched the numerous databases you can access online that have public records of millions of people. I can continue the search for you…if you still want me to help you that is.”

I looked at Cynthia who, despite her disheveled appearance, had a determination in her eyes that I couldn’t just brush off. Sure, I could get another agent who had more experience and less coffee spillage, but do they have the same fiery passion as Cynthia held?

Taking a chance, I said, “Yeah.”

Cynthia grinned. “Awesome! I won’t let you down. I swear!”

I admired her optimism. I sure as hell needed some myself if I intended to stay on track with more clues to my mother’s identity. And my father’s. Before I assumed he had little involvement with her, or that he was an absentee father. But if it was true that we shared the same name, that could be the guiding force I needed to find my way to him, to my mother, and maybe the rest of my birth family.

For the next half hour, I provided all the information I learned over the years that could assist in the investigation, and Cynthia went into great detail on what she was going to do on her side.

After drinking some coffee from a machine that required a few slaps from Cynthia, I thanked her and left the agency feeling much more confident than before I first entered the glass door.

I texted Andrea about what I discovered, and a few texts later we planned to meet for lunch soon, so we could talk in person.

My mind shifted to Todd, and I sent a quick text to him about my renewed optimism. Then memories of last night and that searing kiss flooded my mind, and damn I wanted a repeat. Todd was the first man I ever kissed, and if I had any doubt that I had an attraction to me, he erased all of it when he slipped his hot tongue into my mouth. I was still surprised by how quickly we turned from kissing to groping each other’s bodies, his ass in my hands like an artist molding clay.

I had little doubt we would’ve started rutting in the hallway if Todd’s roommate hadn’t appeared suddenly at the front door. It snapped me back into reality, and I decided to end the night with a more chaste kiss. I didn’t want to rush things with Todd, though I was certain he was up for a second date and an invitation to his bedroom soon.

My phone buzzed with a reply from Todd, asking if I wanted to meet him at his place later today to talk about an idea he had. I instantly sent him a text back, saying yes. I assumed it was about his art piece, and I wanted to help whatever artblock he had and be his muse.

With my appointment over, I proceeded to go to my local gym where I worked out regularly. After that, I ordered an early lunch from a food truck that served vegetarian burritos and ate it at a nearby park. The rest of my time was spent at my home where I did my own search on different social media sites on my laptop, hoping to find any accounts that had my name. I saw a few accounts on Facebook and Instagram that looked promising and saved the links in a folder, so I could look at them later.

I didn’t realize how much time had passed until I checked my phone and saw that it was four in the afternoon, thirty minutes before I was supposed to meet with Todd.

With a quick shower and a change of clothes, I left my house and drove to his apartment. I made it my destination with ten minutes to spare. I could’ve waited at least five more minutes before approaching the door, the pull to see Todd again caused me to get out of my car and knock on his door.

A moment passed without a response, and I knocked again. I worried I was too early when the door opened and Todd appeared. His hair had returned to its regular form that was slightly messy in a stylish way and his wizard glasses that made him look just as good as his Kent-Clark look.

Todd smiled. “Hey! Good to see you again!”

“Yeah. Couldn’t stay away.”

Todd chuckled. “Come inside then.”

Stepping aside, Todd allowed me into his apartment. I saw Dillon standing in the living room area with crossed arms and a frown on his face.

“Todd…” Dillon said.

“We’ll talk about it later,” Todd said, sounding tired.

Sighing, Dillon walked away and disappeared into the hallway.

I rubbed my neck. “Uh… Is he upset that I’m here or…?”

“Oh, no. It’s not you. We were talking before you arrived and…had a small disagreement.”

I waited for Todd to elaborate.

Instead, he smiled and said, “Don’t worry about it. It’s nothing major.”

“Okay. If you say so.” I offered him a smile. “So. You said you had an idea you wanted to run by me.”

“I do. I remember you told me about wanting to find your mother, and I decided to do a little research. I discovered people make posters to help find their birth parents, like one for a missing child. I then spent some time making a template. Do you want to see?”

I nodded and followed Todd to the couch. Sitting down, he held his tablet and showed me the template he was working on.

“Sorry if it's intrusive. I just want to help in any way I can,” Todd said.

I shook my head and squeezed his shoulder. “No, this is great! I don't know why I haven’t thought of it before.”

“Yeah, we can post it in different social media sites and place them all over the city to help spread the word. I just need some information to fill in the template and…you don’t happen to have a picture of your mother that I can use?”

“Oh…I don’t have any photos. Except…” I clutched the locket in my hand.

Todd’s eyes looked down at my hand and what it was holding. “May I?”

“S-Sure.”

Taking it off, I handed the golden piece of jewelry to Todd who gently opened it to reveal a small photo of my mother as she held me as a baby in her arms.

“It might be too small to use on the poster though,” I said.

“That’s no problem at all. I’ll just take a photo of it with my phone and send it to a friend I know who enhances photos for a living.”

“You can do that?”

“Definitely!”

Todd took his phone out and snapped a few photos. He then tapped his thumbs on the screen, most likely texting his friend with the photos to enhance.

“Easy peasy.”

Todd offered me back my locket, and our hands touched in the process. A rush of electricity went through me from just that light brushing of skin, and I looked into Todd’s eyes to see that he was feeling the same. I began to lean forward, wanting to express to him how much I appreciated his help.

Someone cleared his throat, and I quickly looked behind me to see Dillon in scrubs.

Todd sighed and said, “Heading to work now?”

“Yeah. Won’t be back home until five in the morning. And Todd…just think about it, okay?”

“Sure.”

Nodding once, Dillon left the apartment, leaving us by ourselves.

“Oh. My friend just texted back. They say they’ll have the photos ready by tomorrow morning.”

“Thank you, Todd. This means a lot.” Placing the locket back around my neck, I then said, “Is there a way I can repay you?”

“You don’t have… Well, there is one thing.” Todd smirked.

I scooted closer to him. “Oh?”

“I bought the ingredients for that special sauce earlier today and thought you could help me make it.”

“I see.”

“It’ll go well with the grilled chicken that’s in the fridge. Can even eat it together for dinner…that’ll be your repayment if you accept.”

I bite my bottom lip. “I accept the transaction.”

Todd smiled. “Let’s get started then. And who knows. We might also have dessert.”

I growled at that suggestion, looking forward to what this evening would bring.