BELLA MARTIN 6

Bella

Monday arrived far too soon. I hadn't recovered fully from my night with Martin and the following morning with him as my pediatrician. I thought I'd never be able to recuperate. But I still had to go to work. Because Yzee was still sick, Abuela happened to come out to sit with her and watch old movies on my cable while I went to work and digested my weekend. Thank goodness it looked like it was going to be a slow day. I sat in the corner of the office, sifting through phone records for my extramarital affairs investigation. Mr. Metzger called a number of women, none of whom appeared to be particularly healthy. That wasn't proof of cheating in and of itself, but we needed to look into it. We intended to test one more honey trap soon, at a later date to be determined. We reasoned that going through the phone records might help us make that decision. It was tedious but needed. I'd been able to ignore Martin when Yzee was present and I had to be a mother, but now that I was alone with the dreariness of matching numbers, I couldn't gather my thoughts on what I was doing; it kept wandering back to Martin. He had a great laugh that made me warm to my toes, as well as those emerald-colored eyes with a sparkle that was equally as shiny. Until it got dark at nightfall and he gave me kisses that melted me so much that I couldn't breathe. Good grief. I knew I hadn't gotten any in a long time, but I did not recall kisses being so melty. Neither did the touch of a man's hand wind me up to the point where I felt like I was free flying. And then there were those abs, which felt fantastic under my fingers or when I stretched my arm around those broad shoulders. He was the hottest man I'd ever seen in person, and he'd slept with me. Fantastic. Nearly impossible. It was unsettling. I slid my hand into my pocket for the fiftieth time today, feeling the sleek paper of Martin's business card. His mobile number is on the back. He'd left the decision to me whether or not I really want to give him or should I say, us, a chance. Seeing as I was the one who claimed it was only for one night. It had already been my call, so if I would want anything more, I would have to call. Why did the decision take precedence over waiting patiently for him to call? I truly wish he'd call so I wouldn't be sitting here debating whether or not I should, because I just really wanted to, and I was beginning to think my real reason for not dating anybody in general, and him in particular, were totally made up, and maybe I was just hesitant to open myself up to a man at all. But I'd never felt this way about a man before, not even Yzee's father. His lips were soft, firm, and passionate all at the same time. I pictured them on my... “Ugh! " I returned to the very first page of my phone records, requiring to restart from the beginning since I had completely lost my place." I had no idea where I'd been. The door to the back room where we completed the legal stuff swung open. While we were out on cases, Pia managed a lot of the secretarial work in the office and operated the spy shop. Even when we're not trying to investigate, we sold a lot of surveillance equipment. She wasn't a full-fledged agent, but she did help with the honeytraps. Tall and blonde, she appeared to be having a great time in a dress, but she was plausibly the happiest person I'd ever met. "How are you doing, honey? You appear to be flushed. You're not catching the virus of your child who has strep throat, are you? I don't want that circulating in the office." In my throat, I made a low squeak. It wasn't because I was ill that I got flushed. In any case, it wasn't strep throat. I sipped some coffee. "I'm not ill at all." What's up, do you require assistance? ” "Not on my watch. However, Jason has sent you a new client." "Pia, I'm already working on a case. Isn't this one for Jason?" ” "He says only you," She said. I exhaled a sigh. "All right, send them in. Allow me a moment to start making myself presentable. It's most likely some other case of extramarital affairs." She nodded and returned to the front, leaving me to put on my suit jacket and reapply my lipstick. But when the door opened, it wasn't an enraged wife looking to hire me to retaliate against her cheating son of a bitch of a husband, as I had anticipated. A middle-aged man walked into the office. He had brown hair and eyes, was of average weight and height, and had completely average looks. I couldn't pick him out of a crowd, and I was known for my meticulousness to details. His suit was unremarkable. His shoes were standard. Even his nose was unremarkable. Something was up and was about to take place. I stood up and extended my hand. "My name is Bella De Guzman, and I work as a private investigator. Sir, how may I assist you today? ” He grabbed my hand but refused to sit. “Ms. De Guzman, My name is Agent Del Fierro," he said, pulling out his ID. NBI. "I work for the National Bureau of Investigation, and working with the FBI. right now, we will need to hire you for a case that we both have. We are going to investigate the Metzger family's international criminal dealings but have been unable to gain access. They're a very close-knit group that trusts no one but family." My head shook. "Please accept my apologies. I don't believe I can assist you. Jason Cuervo, my boss, is the person to speak with. He, not I, is interacting with Mrs. Metzger in her extramarital affairs case. I've also had no communication with Mr. Metzger. I was meant to meet with him this weekend to obtain information of his extramarital affairs, but he failed to appear. With the exception of some phone records that we believe lead to his extramarital affairs, I am unable to provide you with any information. I'm pretty sure you don't need me to look through his phone records." "Ms. De Guzman, please take a seat so we can talk." I didn't like being told to sit in my own office, but I was having a nervous breakdown and did think it might be best. "Why wouldn't you just tell me what kind of assistance you need and stop beating around the bush?" “ Ms. De Guzman, Mr. Metzger really wasn't going to be meeting women at the bar this past weekend. Mrs. Metzger had been misled. He was going to meet his son, which he didn't want his wife to know about. He is attempting to entice his son into illegal business activities, and she is attempting to keep him out of it. He backed out on his son." I closed my eyes, hoping to block out what Agent Del Fierro was just about to say. "Martin Lawson is his son's name, Ms. De Guzman. Dr. Martin Lawson. He goes by his mother's mSimon name because Dr. Metzger is a bad name." “What? " I exclaimed. My brain was disjointed. Mostly because it refused to communicate. It wishes to return to thinking about abs. “Metzger. It translates to "Butcher" in German. Nobody wants a physician with the surname Butcher. I'm astounded. You should be aware of this. You speak other languages, Spanish, French, Portuguese, Italian, Dutch, and German fluently." "I'm also learning Russian and Mandarin. Learning languages relaxes me," I explained as I processed the information. "Of course, Metzger meant butcher. But that's not what I was trying to question." My office was cramped and crammed with files. I felt uncomfortable and unsure. “Is Dr. Lawson a criminal? " What was causing my heart to break? Del Fierro, the agent, shook his head once. "As far as we could really tell, no. He's been living in Quezon province for five years, running in a clinic, and has had less to do with this family's business, but the new clinic here in Manila appears to be a front for fake drugs." "Fake medications! This was a real crime that had real consequences for real people. Martin is facilitating counterfeit medicine?" "We have no proof of that. That's where you come into play." "Where do I fit in? What am I doing here? You were keeping tabs on me." He gave a nod. "You've looked into me." He nodded once more. "We turned our interest to you when you decided to take on the Metzger case, but you were already on our surveillance due to your background. We're astonished by your language skills. Your multilingualism makes you a valuable addition as a private detective. It could help you become a better federal agent. You don't really want to work as an enticement for deceiving husbands, do you? When you could use your linguistic skills and knowledge to deter serious criminals. Ms. De Guzman, you have a career path with the federal government. Your translation abilities are required. This is your entry point." I was relieved to be sitting now. "You want me to set up a honeytrap for Martin? to eavesdrop on him Regarding his illegal activities." "You've already had a physical connection with him. We'd like you to encourage his continued interest." "As well as spy on him." "It's quite possible that the proof you uncover will absolve Martin. As a new agent, we don't expect you to go to extreme levels. Yes, you still have a lot to learn. We want you to penetrate the family to provide us with information that allows us to stop Anthony Metzger." "But what if it also catches Martin?" Agent Del Fierro looked at me blankly. "It is a major offence if Dr. Lawson is spreading fake medicine." I reached into my pocket and tried to touch the business card with Martin's phone number. I used to think he was a nice guy. I did think we had this something special going on. But what if he's not? But what if we don't? What if this was a great opportunity for me to be more, that will provide a better life for my daughter? I reflected on my cramped, congested condo and how I couldn't afford childcare and had to rely on my elderly grandmother to watch my daughter so I could work. I thought working as a private investigator would suffice, but it didn't. A federal official. I considered health insurance and retirement plans, which no single mother could overlook. And I was reminded of Martin's palace in the sky. I gave a nod. "I'll take care of it." Agent Del Fierro smiled, his face expressionless. “Good. We'll get you a job as a barista at the coffee shop down the street from Dr. Lawson's clinic." "You already knew I worked in a coffee shop to pay for college. What else do you know about me? ” "Quite a bit," he says. My head shook. This made no sense. "It's not just this weekend, is it? You've been watching me for a long time." "Your ties to your ex-boyfriend needed to be looked into." "You mean Yzee's father, my ex? He's the reason I know German Dutsch. He is a German, and I did think it was a lovely language, as always, but I haven't seen him since she was a baby. He had vanished. She has never known him as a father." "Maybe it's all for the best." For the most part? Was Yzee's father now a law breaker as well? I laughed hysterically. "And I assume this is my way of making amends with the FBI." "And I assume this is my way of making amends with the FBI." "You don't have to make things up for aanyone nor the FBI and NBI. However, you are in an exceptional position to keep dangerous drugs off the streets and save lives. And, as I previously stated, this is your entry point." How did I get in? However, to what end?