Think Twice

“Prostitution. It’s not just for us ladies. From what I’ve been able to find out, Bo worked at a gay sports bar called” — she raised her gaze and met Myron’s eye — “Man United.”

Myron looked at her. She continued to look at him.

“That’s actually a pretty funny name,” Myron said.

“Agreed,” Esperanza said.

“Do you have a real name for Bo?”

“Not yet but get this: I’m using this advanced facial recognition image search. You know what that is?”

“Pretend I don’t.”

“I put in a photo of someone’s face. It scours the entire internet and finds other photos that person is in.”

“Yikes. Talk about Big Brother.”

“It’s not new technology, Myron. It’s been around for years.”

“Okay, so what did you find?”

“Bo is in a bunch of posted photos from the clubs. Parties, tourists, that kind of thing. So far, I’ve found two things that are relevant for you. One, there are no recent photographs of him. Nothing at all in the last five years.”

“So,” Myron said, “since he stopped posting—”

“No one has posted a photo of him anywhere. That’s right. And that’s rare. You really have to try to stay that off the radar.”

Myron took that in. “What’s the other thing?”

“There is one crowd shot of Bo that you’ll find very intriguing.”

“Crowd shot?”

“As in, he’s in a crowd. As in, a sporting event. As in, your friend Bo attended an NBA basketball game.”

Myron froze. “As in, a game coached by Greg Downing?”

Esperanza nodded. “Greg’s Milwaukee Bucks in Phoenix playing the Suns. Six years ago. I zoomed it in for you and printed it out.”

She handed him a photograph. Yep, crowd shot. Bo sat behind the Bucks’ bench next to an uber-tan, uber-blonde woman packed into a tight tank top.

“Can’t be a coincidence,” Myron said.

“Man, you’re good.”

He smiled. He was happy that Esperanza had found such satisfaction in this new job, but he missed working with her on a day-to-day basis. MB Reps wasn’t MB Reps without Esperanza.

“So how do we find Bo Storm after all this time?” Myron asked. “Maybe Man United had his real name for payroll?”

“Already tried that. They’re under new ownership and got rid of all the old records.”

An idea came to Myron. “Explain that facial recognition search thing you did.”

“It’s fairly self-explanatory.”

“So if you had a photo of me—”

“I could put it through the search engine and theoretically it would find every photograph with you in it on the web.”

“Open up Bo’s dormant Instagram page for a second.”

Esperanza did. Myron started scrolling through it. He stopped and pointed. “This guy,” Myron said. “He’s in at least a dozen of Bo’s photos.”

She read the captions out loud: “‘Me and Jord doing our thang.’ ‘Jord and me at the club.’ Hmm, both of these guys are hot. Gay guys keep in such great shape. A lot of shots of them at the club shirtless.”

“Yeah, but not that.” Myron scrolled some more. “Here’s one of Bo and Jord at a barbecue in a yard.”

“Still shirtless.”

“And look — ‘Having the boys over for the Super Bowl.’”

“Still shirtless,” Esperanza repeated, making a face. “Who watches the Super Bowl shirtless?”

“Can we put this Jord guy through your search engine?”

Esperanza nodded. “That’s not a bad idea.”

“Every once in a while.”

“Give me an hour, okay?”

“Okay.”

Myron just sat there and stared at her.

Esperanza said, “I got something stuck in my teeth?”

“No.”

“What then?”

“I miss this. Don’t you miss this?”

She said nothing.

He leaned forward. “Come back to MB Reps.”

She still said nothing.

“I’ll even add your initials into the title.”

Esperanza arched an eyebrow. “MBED Reps?”

“Sure.”

“That’s a terrible name,” she said. “Then again, so is MB Reps.”

“Fair.”

“I’m doing good work here.”

“I know.”

“Sadie is amazing.”

“I know that too. So do both. Half time here with Sadie, half time back with me.”

“Do good,” she said, “and bad.”

“Whatever floats your boat.”

She shook her head.

“What?”

“I love you,” she said. “You know that.”

“I love you too.”

“You’re my best friend. You’ll always be my best friend.”

“Same.”

“With Win. I get it.”

“What’s your point?”

“You don’t like change, Myron.”

Now it was Myron’s turn to stay quiet.

“Where’s Terese?” Esperanza asked.

That was Myron’s wife.

“She’s in Atlanta.”

“Where she’s working.”

“Yes.”

“While you’re in New York.”

“She’s coming to visit.”

Silence.

“It’ll be fine,” Myron said.

“Will it?”

“I love Terese,” Myron said.

“I know you do,” Esperanza said, but there was a tinge of sadness there. “Let’s find Greg, okay? Then we can talk more about the rest of this.”

An hour later, Myron got a call from Esperanza. “I got something on Bo’s online buddy Jord,” she said.

“What?”

“I’m coming up to show you.”