Harbouring Love
Prologue
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"I'm sorry, Camille. I know you've been waiting for this for a long time," Shana said sympathetically.
I sighed. 'Long time' was an understatement.
"What are you going to do?" she asked.
I slumped back into the chair that I'd jumped out of at her news.
"For six months? No idea."
She smiled. "Maybe get a job?"
"Who goes away for six months to a strange country?" I asked irritably, ignoring her.
She shook her head. "You kids and these 'spiritual journeys'. All you come back with is a tan, a tattoo, an empty savings account, and an STD."
I wrinkled my nose. "What a nice thought. Thanks for that, Shana." I went over what she'd said. "And stop calling me a kid! I'm twenty-six, for goodness sake."
She chuckled. "Granted. But in that outfit you look about sixteen."
I rolled my eyes. Maybe the baggy sweatshirt and jeans I'd worn with my black sneakers and my hair in a messy ponytail hadn't been the most fashionable thing in the world, but I'd hardly come here to look good. Getting in and out quickly had been my main mission. And now it had been shot to hell. I sighed again and stood up, grabbing my backpack.
"Maybe I'll get a job."
I placed my hand on the doorknob then turned around, glancing fleetingly at the office. It was small but lavishly decorated and significantly devoid of personal touches. My eyes landed on Shana. She was in her early fifties with short, curly dark brown hair and a frown that was all but engraved on her forehead. The wide-set chair she sat in was barely visible behind her large form.
"You'll let me know when he gets here, right?"
She leaned forward and a determined smile lit up her features.
"Don't worry. I'm not going to let him slip through my fingers again."
I walked out the door after giving the plaque on her desk one last look.
SHANA WILLIAMS, PRIVATE INVESTIGATOR, it read.
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