Chapter 3- Dennis

I put the kettle on the stove after getting out of bed for tea. The apartment was quiet; it was good. I could nurse this throbbing headache. I unclenched my jaw and rubbed my temples around over and over. "Oh, God." At least it was quiet this morning. The construction had stopped all week. However, I had low expectations. No creamer for today. I needed to wake myself up.

Last night was fun. Me and Noel didn't know many people at the party, just Talia and Jennette. Those dudes they were with seemed off.

The creepy way they stared at them back to back, I couldn't shake it off. That Damon guy had wandering eyes on Jennette made my skin crawl. As I waited for the kettle to boil, resting my elbows on the counter, my phone vibrated inside my pj pocket. Sliding the icon without looking at the caller I.D.

"Hello," I answered in a groggy voice.

"Hi, is this Dennis Sanatorio?" A woman at the other end asked.

"Yes," I replied.

"Hi. I found your number on Instagram. My name is Amina. I'm the CEO of VostBeauty, Inc. You may have heard of it. Or not."

"I've seen it around social media. I had an ex that used your products. She said it helped her eczema."

"Oh my, that's amazing! Glad she said that. I have an offer for you."

"Uh-huh," I continued to listen.

"One of my photographers had an emergency and had to leave town. I saw your photos on Instagram, you have such an eye for detail."

"Oh, thank you so much." I smiled to myself. See, I knew the more I commissioned, something like this could happen. Wait, let me listen to what she really has to offer.

"Cosmopolitan booked me for a magazine spread and I need another photographer. Can you do it? I'll pay."

I almost slipped off the counter, the whistling of the kettle startled me. "Um."

"If you're not free-"

"No, I am. I am. It sounds great. I'll take it." I poured the steaming water in my mug, spooning in three scoops inside. My fingers were shaking from excitement. This is great, I can pay my rent next month.

"Dennis, you are saving my life. I saw your rates and I'll pay you double." Even better!

"Wow, yes!"

"Outstanding. If you have any model friends, please let me know," she pleaded.

"Actually, I do. Can I call you back?" I heard a beep at the other end, looking at the ID. It was dad. Shit. I'll call him later.

"Sure, thank you. I'll text you the address for the studio."

"You're welcome." I hung up. I thought of Talia, she was a model, maybe she could pose for some pictures. Jennette could as well, I used to take pictures of her in high school. She hated it at first, and did her best fashion pose.

The over the shoulder smolder. I still have the prints of her in my closet. My phone rang again, it was Jennette. I answered, "speak of the devil, good morning."

"Dennis, you sound tired for it to be a good morning." Jennette spoke in a scratchy voice. I chuckled. It was good to hear her voice. It was good to see her.

"That's what I get for drinking all that Patron."

"But the highlight of the night is seeing you again."

"Aww, getting mushy on me, Jennette."

"I'm such a softy." I laughed, scratching my nose from a tickle of the coffee.

"I forgot you were a terrible dancer."

She scoffed, "I'm not terrible, I'm not the best. I can count to the beat."

"Sure." I rolled my eyes.

"Whatever, Mr. I stand around looking gorgeous."

"It's good that you acknowledge my sexiness." I smirked to myself.

"I said gorgeous."

"It can mean the same thing."

"No, it can't. Change the subject, Dennis."

"Fine. So what are you up to now?" I asked.

"Nursing a hangover," she responded, my phone sandwiched between my shoulder blade and phone, lifting the kettle off the stove, and pouring it in my mug.

"You got pretty wasted."

"Hard liquor goes straight to my head." I sipped from the fiery liquid. I let it burn my throat. She drank more drinks than me. It's like she wanted to forget something.

"Well, since I got you on the phone, are you free this weekend?"

"This sounds like something I might not like to agree to."

"I got a call from VostBeauty, Inc this morning. She's looking for models. I thought of you and Talia."

"Seriously?! You're lying to me!" She stated.

"I'm not. She found me on Instagram and loved my pictures. She's working with Cosmopolitan for a magazine spread and she needs all the help she can get."

"Dennis, you're the best! Talia would love this gig. But I'm not a model."

"You can pull it off, make some cash."

"I'm more of the one to draw the model than be one. But if she needs someone to test out skincare products, I'm all for it! I use her products religiously. Right before reading the bible."

"Sacrilegious."

"Yep. But seriously, thank you, Dennis. That I get to see you more, it's a blessing." That gut feeling came bubbling inside. It happened when we talked. It happened last night, the way she scrunched her nose when she took another shot. Maybe I was hungry, I haven't had breakfast.

"You're welcome, I'll text you the details. Talk later."

"Bye." I ended the call with my heart racing from this unbelievable opportunity. Throughout high school, she friend zoned me; guys flirted with her plenty of times. I liked how she was focused on going to art school. Her Canva paintings were breathtaking. I could see her making her own comics, she worked in a comic book shop, seemed fitting.

The three of us, me, Talia and Jennette, attended Montgomery Blair High. It seemed inevitable to run into her after a couple of years. I'm supposed to be in Greece this month, closing a merger with Dad. The last conversation we had, well more of an argument, he told me I was going to fail. I couldn't wait to see the look on his face when he saw my name credited in a huge magazine spread. A knock came on my door. Three knocks. Oh, god. I winced. They didn't have to knock so hard. I gulped, looking through the peephole. Two cops were at my door. I didn't do anything. I opened the door slowly. "Morning. Officers." I bobbed my head in a salutary introduction.

"Mr. Santorino. We apologize for disturbing you this morning. We have a few questions for you," the woman cop explained.

"It's Sanatorio."

"Apologizes. Where were you between the hours of 9pm and 4 am?"

"Did you happen to be uptown on 54th?"

"Yes. Is everything ok?"

"We're working on an investigation. A prostitution ring during a party. Do you happen to know these two?" The male cop pulled out two pictures of a man and a woman. The woman looked familiar. I ran into her and wanted her number but she dismissed me. She was beautiful, passive.

"I've seen the woman but I don't know her. Wait, prostitution ring?"

"Yes, there have been reports of people missing that have dealt with them. We got your name on the guest list."

"Oh." I refrained from huffing. I grinded the back of my teeth as I continued to listen to what their investigation was about. The two people have fled, working a brothel.

"Have you associated with her?"

"I spoke a few words and she ignored me. I don't know how she sounds like."

"Thank you. We will keep in touch." The male cop gave me his card, I took it and dropped it in my pocket. I nodded. "Sanatorio. Your dad doesn't happen to be Rodrigo Sanatorio, the businessman?" He squinted, pointing at me. It wasn't a common last name but I didn't want to be associated with him. It's the reason I didn't tell a lot of people my last name.

I inhaled, holding in my thin patience. "Have a good day, officers. I have a busy schedule." I grinned warmly. They tipped their hats to me and left. I shut the door. What the hell? I had to deal with this now. On my own this time. If dad heard about this, I didn't want him to. I wanted to figure this out on my own. I better warn Adriana.