"Is this her?"
"Yeah, that's her."
Christian didn't look up to watch the man's expression as he so often did when a client presented a job. He could tell a lot from how the job was presented to him. If the guy was cool, expressionless then the job would be easy. He'd get it done and get the money, just like that he'd make a cool five grand. But there were other clients that were filled with remorse, those were the tough ones. He never knew if they'd pull out, or stiff him. He didn't like dealing with the ambivalent type.
Today all he could think about was the mark. He stared down at the black and white picture and said nothing for several moments. She was beautiful. She had long dark hair and dark eyes that didn't look to be brown, maybe hazel. She had a handful of freckles sprinkled across her face, making her pale skin stand out. The picture was of her husband, his client, and she standing together on a dock next to a boat named Eternity. His client had his arm wrapped around her waist, holding her affectionately. That made him smile. He could tell that she was petite. She was about six inches shorter than her husband, which puts her in the neighborhood of 5'5". She had a tiny waist, long legs, big breasts, and hips that you could grab onto under more intimate circumstances. Right away he liked her. He knew she couldn't weigh more than 115 lbs.
Finally Christian looked up. "You're a hundred percent positive that you want this done? I don't want you getting squeamish half way through this and decide to see a marriage councilor instead of me doing my job. Do you understand?"
The man lit a cigarette with a shaky hand, nodding in agreement with everything he's said. "Yeah, I understand how this works. I want this done," he paused and finally looked at him, "I won't get squeamish." The faintest curl of the man's lip told Christian that he was dead serious.
With a small nod he put the picture in his briefcase and sat it beside him on the vinyl seat of the booth they were sitting in. The jukebox played behind his client. The noise was appreciated; he didn't want anyone overhearing any of his business.
Christian folded his hands on the top of the table and looked the man directly in the eye. For a moment he wondered how he got a woman like his wife, Danielle was her name. His client, Michael, was a balding, overweight, middle aged man who wore too much gold jewelry and drank one too many beers. He had a scar above his right eye, which drew attention away from the only interesting part of his face, his eyes.
He figured after a couple of seconds into looking at their picture, by their boat, by the size of her ring, and for the large amount of money he was offered to kill her that she was with him for the money.
Over cheese omelets it was explained to him that the reason he wanted his wife dead was a cliche. He had another woman that he wanted to be with and there was no prenuptial agreement. That meant that she'd get half of whatever he had or more. He knew that Michael was the type of man that always had to win and there's no way he would let his wife take anything from him. He took from her what he wanted and now he had moved on to another, what he assumed to be beautiful woman.
The stories never really mattered to him. He was there to do one thing, kill. He wasn't there to coddle the fucking client.
"When do you want this done?" As always his voice was devoid of emotion.
"I've arranged to go out of town next week." The lack of emotion in Michael's voice matched Christian's. He lit another cigarette and Christian noticed that his hand had stopped shaking.
"Fine. You go out of town and I'll take care of the rest."
"Here's the information you wanted about her. Where she goes during the day, what she does. I also put the code to our security system in there." Michael tossed a large manila envelope across the table and pointed to it as he spoke. "All the information on her is there."
Christian looked at it for a moment before slipping it into his briefcase. Michael started to get up. "Sit down." Christian said in his usual tone.
Michael sat down without question. "I need at least half up front. When I get what I want you'll get what you want."
"I don't have that kind of cash on me now but I can send it wherever you want." Michael said nervously.
Christian leaned back, crossed his arms over his chest, and looked at his client with a hard expression. "Are you fucking me?"
"What?" Michael asked in a surprised tone.
"Are you trying to bend me over and fuck me?" Christian repeated the question with more detail.
"No.. I ju."
Christian cut him off before he could finish by slamming his fist into the table. A few people turned their heads, which warranted a harsh look of "mind your own fucking business" from Christian. They turned away and he looked back at Michael. "You ask for a meeting and you come without money. That isn't professional, Mike."
Michael looked at him, beads of sweat forming on his brow. Christian knew he was nervous. He said nothing but let Christian speak. "What I want from you is 2500 hundred dollars in cash in this.." he paused to write a P.O. box number on a napkin, "address, in this box by tomorrow 6 p.m. If you don't I'll assume you don't want to hire me and you've contracted someone else." He glared at Michael. "I don't allow my clients to look elsewhere; do you understand what I've just said?"
Michael only nodded.
"Good." Christian got up and walked out, leaving the napkin and his new client at the table.
It was ten thirty when the sermon let out. Flocks of people headed towards the four exits, leaving Dani stuck to try and maneuver through them towards the door. She knew that she'd be waiting for a while. It was almost as bad as rush hour. Dani was pushed backward and fell against someone. Embarrassed she turned around quickly to apologize. She looked up into the face of one of the most handsome men she'd ever seen. He was tall, maybe 6'3", which meant he towered over her. His hair was slicked back and for a moment she was taken aback by the color. It was white blonde, she thought for a moment that he must dye it but his roots were the same color as the tips. If he did bleach he did a great job. She met his eyes and noticed they were such a gray that they looked like liquid silver. Her eyes moved to his lips, which she saw moving, but she didn't hear a thing he said. The movement, the fullness, hypnotized her.
"Are you alright?" He said as he reached his hand out to steady her.
She smiled up at him and nodded. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to push into you. It's just so.." She was pushed into him again, "so crowded in here." She said on a laugh.
He laughed with her and held her close as if protecting her. "Why don't we try to get out together? Two probably have a better chance than one."
She laughed and nodded, "you're probably right." They made there way to the door and in a matter of minutes they were out and greeted by the warmth of the sun.
She turned and smiled at him, "thanks. I couldn't have done it without you."
He gave her a smile to match her own, bright and friendly. "I'm always willing to help a damsel in distress." He winked at her and she smiled.
"Well I should be going." She turned to walk away but stopped and looked back, "thank you again."
She turned around and started to walk towards her car.
"Hey, wait." He said as he made his way after her. She turned and looked at him, her expression one of curiosity.
