Sid nodded and signaled his retreat back to the cave with a tap on his forehead.
I stopped him. “Hey, I might need your help with something.”
“What’s that?”
“Wait here.”
I went to the bedroom and retrieved the photo from the box. When I returned, I placed it on the counter in front of him.
“Who’s that?”
“That’s my mother. And that,” I said, pointing to the man next to her, “could very well be my father.”
His eyes shot up, traveling between the photo and me a few times. “What does this have to do with me?”
“I need you to help me find out who he is.”
“From this photo?”
“He was at Harvard with my mom in 1991. That and this photo is all I’ve got.”
Sid picked up the photo. He frowned and pursed his lips, a common expression when he was calculating and a good sign that he could and would help me.
“What’s your plan?” I asked tentatively.
“Unless Harvard keeps some sort of public digital database of former students, which I doubt they do, I’ll need to figure out how to access it privately. Then I’ll try to run some decent face recognition software and go from there.”
“Are you okay with that?” Guilt consumed me already. What I was asking of him probably required blatantly illegal access. I could always scour the yearbooks in the library and find the same information, but Sid’s method was surely faster and more accurate.
He shrugged. “Is this guy really your dad?”
“I wish I knew, Sid.”
“All right, I’ll let you know what I find,” he said. He returned to his room, taking the photo with him.
I turned my focus back to my laptop. I still had a hundred things to do, including sorting through the pile of resumes I’d accumulated since posting for Alli’s empty position before the trip. Now I couldn’t concentrate. How long would this search take? What if Sid found him in a matter of hours? What if he couldn’t find him at all? I chewed my fingernail.
My phone rang, nearly launching me out of my chair. I had the number saved to my phone and recognized it immediately.
I took a deep breath and answered cheerfully. “Hi, Isaac.” I was grateful to have any distraction right now.
“What are you doing for dinner tonight?” he asked.
I hesitated. “I’m not sure. Why?”
“I’m flying into Boston this afternoon. I figured we could touch base while I’m in town.”
“Oh, sure.” I still felt guilty for canceling on him at the last minute without a genuinely believable excuse. For all he knew, something had come up with the business that took me away abruptly at the crack of dawn on a Sunday morning.
“Great, can you meet me at the Park Plaza, around six?”
“Perfect, I’ll see you then.”
I hung up. Any excitement about meeting up with Isaac was easily dampened by knowing I’d be missing a quiet dinner with Blake at his place. I missed him too much already. I was falling hopelessly in love with Blake. So what? I was going to stop beating myself over every step that took me further into our relationship. If I was going to be falling hopelessly in love, at least I could do it wholeheartedly and without regrets in the process.
I glanced at the clock, debating for only a second before sending Blake a text.
E: Can I visit you at the office?
B: Please do.
I changed into a beige pencil skirt and white button up blouse and straightened my hair, making it smooth and sleek. I checked myself in the mirror, satisfied that I looked professional enough for dinner with Isaac and sexy enough to give Blake something to think about while I was gone.
* * *
Blake wasn’t in the bullpen when I arrived. No one seemed to notice me, so I walked back to his office. He was camped in front of his triple monitor set-up. The televisions were silently broadcasting stock feeds and news channels on the other side of the room, reminding why his no electronics at home rule was in place.
I shut the door behind me.
He swiveled in his chair. “And to what do I owe this occasion?” He leaned back with a wicked grin on his face.
“I have a dinner meeting tonight.” I walked over to the opposite desk where he was forced to work with lowly paper and pens and propped myself up on it. “So I wanted to come see you for a little bit first.”
“Who’s the meeting with?”
“Perry.”
He scowled. “That fucking guy is relentless.”
“Do you know him?”
“Not well, but he’s obviously attracted to you.”
I laughed at his blatant assumption. While his suspicions might not be totally off, he had no way of knowing that. “Do you know how crazy you sound right now?”