Chapter Seven

Something about West Seattle at the break of dawn was enamouring. The birth of the pearl sky, occasionally dipped in tinges of orange was simply art for an artist to recreate.

Not to mention the subtle, early morning wind, and the lingering scent of pinecones. Dew drops lazily slid from the cuticles of leaves, and the peeking sunlight bounced off of them— irridiscent and glorious.

Early morning joggers adored this spectacle displayed by nature, and were among the lucky few who truly got to bask in it.

It allowed them to breathe, to cleanse, to think, to rethink.

It was exactly what Caleb A. Wyatt needed.

Water splashed against his grey pumas and slacks as his feet struck a small puddle. He was running faster than usual, and so were his thoughts.

Who the hell did Ava Castellaño think she was?

The recollection of the ghastly deed committed by his childhood nemesis compelled him with anger.

After he'd returned to the table he had shared with Ava, he was almost overcome by lack of self-control when he discovered what she had done.

She had marred his masterpiece with a contorted image of a penis— an insult to his talent and his own dick.

How dare her!

He'd had the strongest urge to track her down and show her what a real penis looked like!

Caleb had to quickly skid his mind away from such thoughts. He'd been having them since the day of the interview and he completely loathed himself for it.

He was more aroused by her defiance than repulsed or antipathetic— and that bothered him immensely.

He had even declined a night filled with adventure with the salacious Victoria, because he had been subdued with recurring thoughts of the impulsive journalist and how he was going to get his revenge.

No one could ever pull such a stunt and expect him to ignore it. Especially when it was something he was passionate about.

A rouse of anger swelled within him again, but he managed to quell it.

When was he even going to get the time to create another piece in time for the show at the art gallery?

Miss Castellaño definitely needed a taste of her own damn medicine.

"Dude!" A breathless voice hollered from behind him.

Caleb turned– still bouncing on his toes– to face the speaker.

"Are you trying to kill me?"

Caleb broke out into a grin. He'd almost forgotten that he had been jogging with his friend of almost seven years.

"You're a detective Eugene. You do this all the time."

Eugene rolled his eyes and jogged towards his friend. "Yeah, but you don't see me trying to break Usain Bolt's record."

Caleb chuckled.

He and Eugene had become friends during their University years when Eugene had just moved to America from Japan.

Years later, they were still 'partners in crime' as Eugene deemed it— and ironically enough, he worked with the CIA.

The friends had little in common, but that surely didn't stop them from being best buds.

While Eugene was a dreamer, Caleb was a realist.

Eugene believed in soulmates and all that shit, which Caleb found quite silly. However, he respected his friend's beliefs and never tried to counter them.

What they did have in common though was their predilection for the opposite gender.

"Seen Victoria lately?" The Asian bachelor questioned as they jogged back to Caleb's house.

"She called last night." Caleb replied tersely.

Eugene stopped mid-jog to do some stretches.

"So? How'd it go?"

Caleb stiffened. "It didn't."

His long time friend raised an eyebrow.

"What do you mean? You love yourself some Victoria!"

The use of the trite term made Caleb scoff in repugnance.

"That's stretching it a bit. I just think she's golden in bed."

"And hot," Eugene added.

"And hot." Caleb agreed.

"Can't believe you passed up on such an adventure. When was the last time you got laid?"

Lamentably, Caleb frowned and replied: "A month."

Eugene threw his head back in mock dismay. "That's terrible! Aren't you in pain?"

"Shut up," Caleb groaned as the two entered the driveway to his man cave.
Eugene howled in laughter and wiped sweat from his forehead.

"You need viagra?"

Caleb laughed and took off his shoe to enter his house.

Eugene did the same. He knew how weird Caleb got about cleanliness.

"Why do you even have Viagra ?"

"I don't bro," Eugene replied as they headed towards the kitchen, "... But I do know a certain pharmacist who could supply."

Caleb threw a towel around his neck and passed his friend a bottle of water from the refrigerator. "Is that so?"

Eugene nodded.

"How'd that go by the way?"

"The girl's a freak."

"Kinky freak or nasty freak?"

"Both!"

"Goddamn!" Both friends exclaimed and chuckled at their exchange.

"Hey did you report the journalist who drew the dicks on your art piece?"

Caleb shrugged. "Not yet."

"You're gonna?"

"We'll see."

"I still find it funny!" Eugene laughed and checked his cellphone, "She sure has some balls."

Caleb remained silent. She sure did.

"Going in?" He asked when Eugene grabbed his jacket.

"Yeah, murder case just came up. I'm needed. And yes I'll shower."

Caleb smirked and bid his friend farewell.

He himself desired a shower and a steaming cup of Lauren's coffee.

Unfortunately, it was his maid's day off so he would have to do without until he got to work.

He glanced at his watch.

6:20 a.m.

He decided to call the office so Bridget, his secretary, could update him on his schedule.

"Bridget," he greeted curtly, "What's my schedule like for the day?"

"Good Morning Mr.Wyatt," Bridget chirped politely, "I trust you're doing well. Uh, you have a meeting at 10:00 with Milan's— about the estate at Wentworth sir."

"Who's the representative?" Caleb queried while grabbing his laptop to check for personal emails.

"Rebecca Sans, sir."

"Good," he nodded, "She's fickle. Any other meetings for the day?"

"An interview from some teenagers at an The Reform Art Center at 1:00."

"Oh. Kids from TRAC," Caleb murmured and skimmed through an email from his sister. She was back from France and wanted to see him.

"That is all?"

"Yes sir."

"Thank you Bridg—"

"Oh Mr. Wyatt!"

"Yes Bridget?"

"An email was sent to your work account from Mr. José Castellaño."

The mention of José Castellaño caught Caleb by surprise. He hadn't seen or heard from his father's friend in a while.

Two Castellaños in two days? What a coincidence.

He wondered what the email was about.

"Would you like me to read it to you sir?"

"No Bridget that's fine. Please forward it to my personal email."

"Yes sir," Bridget replied then added after a beat, "Done."

"Thank you Bridget. I'll see you at ten."

"Looking forward to it sir."

Caleb hung up and opened the email his secretary had sent.

Subject: Invitation Letter

To: Caleb A. Wyatt

From: Robin Corby, Personal Secretary of José Castellaño, Attorney-at-Law

Date: May 07, 2016  05:35

Mr Wyatt,
You are cordially invited to the engagement party of José Castellaño and Natalie Slovenic. This special event will ensue at the Castellaño Estate in Morgan Hills , Seattle— and is to commence at 7pm on Friday, May 9th. Gifts or any forms of offertories are by no means mandatory. Your presence in itself is enough for the betrothed couple. The family thanks you in advance for your support in helping in the celebration of such a memorable occasion.

Formal dress code.

Below is an attached copy of  the guest list.

Thank you again.

With Kind Regards,
  The Castellaños.

A wedding invitation? Caleb thought as he skimmed through the guest list.

His eyes landed on a familiar name.

Robert McGrath, Director of A Day in Seattle Publishing house.

Caleb leaned back against the chair he was seated in.

A plan was slowly formulating in his head.

"Bridget," he picked up his cell again, "Can you please send me the number to A Day in Seattle Publishing House's head office as well as Brent's Publishing's ?"

"Yes sir, right away."

In a matter of seconds, Bridget sent the contacts he had requested– and in two minutes, Caleb had plotted a full blown plan— set in place just for his childhood neighbor.

He stared down at his cellphone for a couple seconds before dialing one of the contacts.

"Hello Good Morning, you have contacted the Head Office of Brent's Publishing's, Seattle. How may I assist?" A female voice greeted on the other end of the line.

"Good Morning. My name is Caleb A. Wyatt, the architectural and engineering co-manager of Wyatt's Incorporation. I would like to reach the Director."

"Okay Mr. Wyatt. May I ask the nature of this call?"

"I would like a file a report," Caleb smiled.

The female at the end of the line inhaled sharply.

"A report against?"

"I would like to file a complaint against a journalist who is currently employed at your publishing company."

"Name?"

"Ava Castellaño."

Vote & Comment!
Thank You!:)