Tempting the Fates

Chapter 1

"Calley-ope?"

The pantsuit-clad woman behind the huge mahogany desk glanced down at my file, reading the form I'd filled out a short while ago.

My nerves were eating away at me like a starving lab rat on a block of gourmet cheese. 

 "Um, it's actually pronounced Cuh-lie-oh-pee." There was a brief pause, in which she was probably just looking at my name again, but the silence was almost unbearable. "You know, like those traveling organs that use steam whistles? It's kind of a weird name, I know. Who names their kid after a musical instrument? Like, 'Hi, this is my son, Saxophone'... But, uh... most people call me Callie, anyway." 

I shifted uncomfortably in my chair, and the aged brown leather beneath me groaned in response. I winced as I realized I was diving head-first into one of my long-winded, fact-heavy nervous rants.

Shut up, Callie. Let the woman talk.

She glanced up at me over her thick-rimmed glasses and gave me a comforting smile. "Ah, yes... Calliope Prescott. Callie." She corrected. "What exactly can I do for you?"

I swallowed hard, looking down at the nameplate on her desk. Jennifer R. Espinosa, Inquiry Agent.

Just a fancy name for 'private investigator'. When did PI become an outdated term, anyway?

If I wasn't rambling, my other nervous habit was to observe within an inch of my life. I took a deep breath and looked at the woman I was trying to hire.

Jennifer Espinosa was intimidating, to say the least. Even in her mid-forties, the way the sleeves of her white button-up clung to her arms warned me that she could likely take down a grown man in one swing. Her dark golden skin was smooth as silk and her black hair was glossy and full, which told me that self-care was an important routine for her. I imagined that the amount of stress she was under and the many long nights she spent awake in pursuit of the truth meant it was necessary.

"I'm trying to find my mother." I said, wringing my hands in my lap. "I have been looking for about nine years with no luck. I just don't have the time to continue looking on my own, Ms. Espinosa."

Boy, was that the truth. I'd applied to med school months ago, and I knew that the second I got an approval letter, my life was going to get a lot busier. The late hours I spent staring into a harsh laptop screen searching for any trace of my mom were taking their toll on me. I was already spending most of my free time in the library studying or lounging in my bed with a good anatomy textbook. My brain felt like mush, but it had to be done if I was going to continue the fast-track program at the local university.

Ms. Espinosa nodded. "I see you provided me with a copy of your birth certificate. Do you have any adoption records?" she asked, flipping through the small pile of documents and photos I'd brought.

"No, I wasn't adopted. Shortly after I was born, my mom just... disappeared. My father has been my sole caretaker ever since. He has refused to give me any information about her, so this is my only option." I sighed. "I don't have a photo or anything. I only have a name, and I'm not entirely sure it's even real."

"Birth mother: Venus D'Amour." She read off my birth certificate. "That's one hell of a name, for sure. Should make it easy to locate her."

I shook my head. "Not as easy as you'd think. I hope you have better luck than I have, because I've scoured the internet for years, looked through hundreds of rolls of microfiche, and I'm still empty-handed. I even wondered if maybe she was an exotic dancer and that was her stage name. But I've called at least sixty clubs within a 200-mile radius and no one's ever heard of her." I shrugged. "I've resigned myself to the fact that I need a professional."