Curiosity killed the Cat

2. Consequences be damned

Through the whole ride home, I was still processing the offer from Bob. I accepted the task, even though he offered me a way out. I wanted to prove myself, not just to him, but to me as well, that I could do it, even if my insides were screaming that this was a suicide mission. A lot of signs were pointing out that this task could go wrong. Because the target was non other than the powerful Daniel Ford.

He wasn't your tipical businessman, the one that to his every success, he celebrated in a style, on a yacht with a lot of significant people and a gallons of reporters, and acted like he was P. Diddy, making it rain, with bunch of skinny models in bikinis under his arm.

No, Daniel Ford was more mature than that, he was a private person, he didn't like to be in a public eye. To him, his accomplishments were just business, and a private engagement between him and the other party, not to a public record. Then his personal life was in spotlight, when a rumour broke through indicating his involvement with a married woman, unknown to the public, and the whole affair became a main priority to the reporters because, in one word, the man was a mystery. He was not too keen on their change of direction, that was why he got a restraining order against all of the media companies, except a few that were allowed to publish some of his professional success, which brings me to this position.

My undercover assignment. Bob still had to fill me in, on the plan, he would call me tomorrow. If this whole thing backfired on us, we would have a big lawsuit bitting our asses.

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"Honey, I'm home!"

I heard Angela shouting at the front door, but I was too busy, nursing my fourth, or fifth glass of wine.

She stood at the foyer of our living room, eyeing me cautiously.

"Who died?" She asked.

"My career."

"Why, what happened?"

I put the glass on the table, got up from the sofa, and in one breath recapped the whole conversation with Bob to Angela. At the end, we were both sipping from our glasses, and staring at space, both deep in thoughts.

"Wow." She said.

"Yeah."

"That's..."

"Yeah."

"Okay, we have got to stop sounding like teenagers who just had their first awful sex, and tell me what's the plan? Are you gonna go with it?" She asked.

"I said yes to Bob, he told me to sleep on it, and in the morning to give him a call. I'm still not sure, but I have to start from somewhere, and I know it's risky, I know I could lose my career as a reporter, but it's a risk I am willing to take."

I didn't even belive in the last words I said.

"Then sleep on it, and we'll revisit your thoughts tomorrow again, okay?"

"Phh, you sound like a shrink." I replied.

"Don't worry, first session is for free. Now go to bed, you're drunk."

"Why, that's a good observation Dr. Phill."

"What can I say, I'm a natural."

Sleep didn't come naturally to me. I was tossing and turning from one side to the other trying not to think of my final decision that I had to make tomorrow, or today, because it was past midnight.

I stopped moving, turning my gaze at the ceiling, begging for answers from the above. I only had one question running through my head.

Would it be worth it?