My Father's Best Friend novel Chapter 49

Lance knocked on Andrea's door loudly, "Andrea," he called but ten minutes he did so, no one from the other side answered.

He reached up for the key hidden on top of Andrea's door frame and unlocked the door.

"Andrea," he called out again and again as he entered the rooms only to find the apartment deserted.

He tried calling her, too, but her phone's off.

Lance looked around the apartment, noticing it neat and organized, he knew immediately that she did not go back after hearing about everything. Getting an idea, he called Victoria.

"Lance?" her voice groggy and questioning.

"Victoria, hi, by any chance, is Andrea there?" he asked, worry noticeable in his voice.

"No, is something wrong?" Victoria's voice became clearer, the silent rustles on the background and an inaudible conversation indicated she was getting out of bed.

"I don't know, she heard something and well, she misunderstood, and she took off," Lance raked his hands on his hair as he walked back and forth.

"Holy cheese, I'm a bad best friend!" Victoria said, guiltily, after some seconds.

"Why?"

"She called me three times and I did not answer it," Victoria said, her voice trembling.

Lance counted down to ten to collect his thoughts, "It's all right, Victoria. Do you two have a special place or something?" he asked.

Victoria thought for a moment, "She likes going to Cafe Europe among other things, but she never had a comfort place," Victoria answered.

"Okay, could you do me a favor and call up some friends, maybe they know where she is," Lance asked as he walked out of Andrea's condo.

"Sure, sure," Victoria agreed and with a quick goodbye the two hung up.

After Andrea fled the room, Lance got rooted on the spot, her words stung so much he could not compare it to anything else but then realized she said that out of rage. He took off immediately, not even bothering consulting Pamela or the newly arrived Simon for a plan.

He drove to Cafe Europe as fast as he can without getting a ticket and parked outside of it. He jogged inside to see the cafe occupied only by a cashier, barista and some customers, but no one looked even close to Andrea.

"Excuse me," he knocked at the hard wood counter to get the barista's attention.

"Yes, sir?" the barista, a male with shoulder-length hair, asked.

Lance described Andrea to the barista, even showed him the picture of her in his wallet.

"Yeah, we know her. Pretty girl, she is," the barista said.

Lance narrowed his eyes at the man, "Have you seen her here tonight?" he asked, his voice strained.

The barista and the cashier recognized the urgency in his voice, and both shook their heads. He looked around the cafe quickly and went out.

"Hello," he said through the phone.

"Lance, I've called up some friends and some of her office friends, but none said they knew where she is," Victoria said, her tone identical to that of his.

"Okay, thanks," he said and was about to hung up when Victoria talked again.

"Pardon?" he asked.

"One of her work friend, Rosa, said that she was rather close to her boss, Holden, but I can't contact him. I've tried calling the office, but a guard answered and said no one was around," she supplied.

Holden.

"I have his number. Thanks, Victoria," he said and hung up.

He scrolled down his contacts and pressed call for Holden.

Lance tried for about three times, but it always went to voice mail. He pulled open his glove compartment and fished out his address book, looking for Holden's address and after some time of searching and squinting he drove to Holden's flat.

I should have written more legibly, he thought as he rallied his way to Holden's building.

He knocked on the door, but no one answered, he tried the knob and surprisingly, it opened.

"Holden," he called out as he walks in the room.

"We're not going to crash, honey, don't worry," Holden said, reassuringly, but Andrea felt even more scared at his tone.

"Where are we going?" she asked, tears already present.

"Somewhere far away from your parents and Lance," he answered.

"You're kidnapping me," she accused.

Holden stopped abruptly, throwing her forward, hard, knocking all air out her system.

"I wouldn't call it that, Andrea. I'm helping you out here, can't you see?" he gestured around as he looked at her, his eyes emanating something Andrea couldn't quite distinguish but it gave her chills.

"I can handle my situation, Holden. This whole thing is unnecessary," Andrea said as patiently as she can, removing the tremble and fright in both her voice and body.

Holden looked at her, "Then why come running to me, then?" he asked.

Then why come running to him, then, Andrea? she asked herself.

"Holden I just need someone to talk to," she answered.

"Then, I'm just someone to talk to?" Holden raised his voice.

"No, not just that. You are my friend, Holden. We are friends, we're suppose to be like that to each other," she pointed out.

"But I don't want to be just friends!" Holden cried out.

Andrea looked at him wide-eyed, she didn't respond and watch Holden beat his fist against the steering wheel.

"Holden, stop that, you're going to hurt yourself," she said.

Holden stopped and looked at her with an angry scowl, "Now you're worried of me?" he asked.

"Holden, please, stop this. Let's go back, please," she said.

Holden looked at her for a long moment and Andrea thought he will do just what she said, but as he stepped on the gas and continued straight, Andrea closed her eyes and cried silently.