Ansley stared over at her laptop, wringing her hands together; her curiosity nagging at her. Could everything she ever wanted to know about a guy be right at her finger tips?
She rose from the sofa and walked over to the makeshift office she created in her condo by the window. Lowering herself in the chair, she left clicked on the mouse to bring her purveyor of the truth to life. Or at least she aspired to find some hidden truths.
The cat and mouse game she was playing in her head right now was borderline manic. She wasn’t sure if she should research Davis. After all, she wouldn’t want him Googling her, but then again she had nothing to hide. And in reality, researching a potential love interest was a given now-a-days when it came to meeting someone new.
As far as Ansley was concerned, Davis had led her down this road of suspicion. Besides, if he wasn’t so obscure, she wouldn’t have to play catfish detective.
Guilt began to settle in. This wasn’t right. Or was it?
“Okay enough back and forth, it’s go time,” she said aloud. She took a deep breath and keyed in the link for Don’t Date Him Girl.com.
Ansley felt a twinge of sadness consume her. This was disappointing to her that dating now required a keen sense of snooping or a thorough background check.
She located the search bar on her screen, and entered the name Davis Montclair. She was impressed at how thorough the site seemed to be—it was her very own Angela Lansbury.
As she watched the waiting wheel spinning, letting her know that her laptop was searching for information, Ansley got up from her chair and walked over to the refrigerator.
“I don’t know why I was planning to do this without wine. Sleuthing deserves at least a glass,” she said to herself.
Pouring her merlot to the rim, Ansley took a quick sip and turned back towards her desk. She held her glass as if it was her life source, gripping the stem a little tighter than required. Ansley took another sip, which turned into a gulp. With a slight turn of her body, Ansley reached over and grabbed the wine bottle from the island.
Who knows what was waiting for her on that screen.
Returning to her seat, Ansley took a deep breath before hitting the space key to wake her laptop from its quick siesta. She shuddered inward at the numerous entries awaiting her. She wasn’t sure if any or all would share a tale about the man attempting to woo her, but she wasn’t leaving this screen until she got some answers.
She scrolled and scrolled until she found one submission that listed Davis Montclair, but as an alias and the frequented cities of Atlanta and Chicago.
This got her attention.
No turning back now, Ansley thought as she clicked on the link.
Her eyes shifted from one horrific line to the next. She didn’t want to believe it was him, but once she got to the last section her heart dropped.
There right in front of her, was a photo of Davis Montclair with the woman who claimed he scorned her. She read over the entry again, just as stunned as she was upon reading it the first time.
She was confused and hurt. This man described here was not the man she was getting to know—the man who initially stood a great chance of winning her heart.
As a single tear escaped her, Ansley was left sitting with unanswered questions. She whispered, “Who are you?”