Subject is hyper-fixated on a topic, goal or task, placing the pursuit of it ahead of obligations and relationship, Mariah thought. Classic obsession. Madonna, I'm diagnosing myself.
Well, I'm not obsessed, she thought. I'm frustrated. How hard can it be to find one creepy old rich guy? Genie said Mr. Alto is one of her dad's supporters... but he's not listed. Could he be a corporate donor? Do I start digging into every listed corporation and action committee? Even then, I'd think he'd donate personally too, to get the most out of the campaign contribution limits.
Just searching for Alto, I keep getting swamped by Holly Alto. Win a couple of Starlight Accolades for graphic design and suddenly people can't stop talking about you. Puttana. If I see this woman's face one more time... Proco cane, it's not like Alto is that common a name. She's not the only person...
Wait.
Holly Alto, bio. Family members. Father.
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She just walked, her body moving while her mind raced. She didn't feel the cold bite of winter. It was nothing compared to the block of ice that had settled around her heart.
Mr. Alto. Nicholas Alto. Uncle Nick... how could she have forgotten? He'd always had a laugh and a smile for her, whenever he visited. Whenever he and dad had talked or gone out late to handle business.
Business.
Nick Alto, suspected head of the Alto Crime Family. Racketeering. Extortion. Smuggling. Gambling. Prostitution. Kidnapping. Murder.
Mr. Alto.
Uncle Nick.
What did that make her dad?
What did that make her?
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"Hey," Miranda greeted her. "I hoped I'd see you. I was leaving you a note and... are you OK? You look frozen."
"Can we sit?' Mariah muttered. "I need to... sit."
"What's the matter?" Miranda asked gently.
"I'm sorry... I've been ignoring you," Mariah replied. "I got caught up in the past... a little obsessed I guess."
"It's OK," Miranda smiled. "It's important to you."
"You're important to me," Mariah answered. "I'm cold. I'm so cold... would you warm me up?"
"OK," Miranda said, taking her in her arms. "Whatever you need."
"Just make me warm," Mariah whispered against her lips. "Make me feel."
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"Thank you," Mariah sighed, afterward.
"Believe me, it was my pleasure," Miranda smiled. "A couple of times."
"I love you," Mariah breathed.
"I love you, too," Miranda whispered back. "Are you going to tell me what's wrong?"
"Eventually," Mariah replied. "For now, just hold me and let me pretend everything is alright."
"OK," Miranda held her close. "Whatever you need."