Femme Fetale

Two

I was so sick of the sun. The rays bear down on me, making beads of sweat appear on my back and between my breasts. I sigh and adjust my sunglasses for the millionth time. My clients may expect professionalism, but that doesn't mean that they're on time. I sigh, and lean back against the side of my car, and old beat down pick up truck that threw attention off of me. The heat was getting to me, and every second felt like a millennia. So far, they were thirty minutes late, and I had half a mind to open the briefcase beside me and read every paper in there. What could they possibly say? I'd been specifically asked not to set eyes on the papers. I was just to confirm that the papers were what we were looking for, then call said number and have an address texted to me. The work of an assassin, I suppose.

In the distance, dirt was being disturbed and a cloud of brownish dust was following behind a speeding limousine. Mere seconds is what takes it to reach me. I raise an eyebrow and watch as it circles and turns so that it's facing the way it came. The driver gets out and open the door, without a word. Out walks a man , probably in his late 30s, early fourties. He has salt and pepper hair and a beard  overs his face, which may or may not be fake. Nothing in his features stands out. I highly doubt he's even the man I spoke to on the phone.

"The money, as promised," He says roughly. He thrusts the briefcase towards me. I don't reach for it.

"All of it?"

"Count if you like."

I stay like that for a second, then hand him the briefcase beside me and take the one he offers me. Within a minute he's out of site. I walk around to the front of the truck and put the briefcase on the hood. I open it, and as expected, inside is what I was promised. I close it and climb into the driver's seat, tossing the briefcase into the passenger seat.

The engine roars to life and I zoom out of there. Thoughts of where to possibly go next whirl around my mind. I could take a break and travel a little. But the one reoccurring thought I had was to just get on a plane and head to New York. My little apartment would be waiting for me, with it's cozy hot chocolate and a good novel to get me by. New York it was.

Within a few hours, I had found a flight and everything of mine was packed. That's not saying much, considering I only had a few items with me. They all fit into one carry on. A six hour flight and I'd be in Morocco, waiting for my connecting flight to New York. For the first time in a while, I was excited to get home. Maybe it was because for the last year I'd been burying myself in work and haven't actually settled down all that much. I preferred the drifter lifestyle, really, I did. I mean you'd have to to get into this kind of work, but every once in a while it's nice to just sit down and not have to be anywhere or do anything. Technically, working for the last five years, I have enough money saved up to last me the rest of my life. But how boring would that be?  

It was on the second plane headed for New York that things got interesting. There I saw the most gorgeous man I could have set eyes on, and considering my line of work, that was saying something. Raven black hair. Vibrant pine green eyes that seemed to pierce through anything they looked at, and a pretty plump mouth. Stubble dotted his jaw, making my knees weak. I stared at him a little too long, I think, because he turned to look at me with a raised eyebrow. I turn my gaze away, holding the blush that threatened to spill over my cheeks. 

As luck would have it, we took the same flight, and he sat across the aisle from me. For the next few hours I kept my gaze glued to the window. I even managed to fall asleep for a while. 

"Hey." I don't register the voice as being directed at me at first. "Hey," The voice is deep and makes my hairs stand on end. A nudge makes me start and look to my right. He's there, smiling slightly at me. I look around. Everyone is asleep. "Do you read Arabic? I've been trying to figure this word out for God knows how long."