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This is really Chapter 1, Part 1. The other was the prologue.
I was sleeping when the call came. I only remember because I was really enjoying this dream. The arms that were wrapped around me were strong and secure, unlike the ones in the future, but I didn't know that yet.
Those arms really put a smile on my face. But that's getting off track.
The call came and instead of picking it up I pushed my alarm clock onto the floor. When this failed to make the annoying noise go away, I cracked open an eye and noticed my phone doing it's pretty light show. I watched as purple turned into blue, then red and so on down the rainbow. I had bought it for this reason. I sometimes have a hard time waking. The lights help focus me.
As soon as I grabbed the handset the light show stopped and the room was plunged into darkness again. "Hello?" I mumbled, fighting to keep my eyes open.
Dead silence radiated from the other end. I took the phone away from my ear, getting the antenna knotted in my hair, to see if it was on. It was.
"Hello?" I tried again, my voice clearer.
"End deal, Raisa." Then a dial tone.
I sighed and hung up. I threw myself back on the pillow before pushing my warm covers off my nude body. Padding to the end of the bed, I put on a tight black tank top and pulled over a black hoodie with a C embroidered over my left breast. This hoodie got me in places a normal twenty-something girl wouldn't be permitted to enter. Next, black jeans with black all-weather boots.
All the while I was wondering what I would be walking into. The last one had been a disaster. No way that could be staged as a natural death.
I pulled my shoulder length strawberry blond hair into a ponytail as I walked to the door. Everything I needed was waiting in the car below.
My hand slid down the gray granite counter-top, feeling the tiny bumps, before swiping up my car keys and heading out the door.
The hallway was empty, but what did I expect? It was falling just passed two in the morning. The quiet buzz of the scones lights serenaded me as I swiftly walked the carpeted floor. Plant leaves swayed as I hurried to the elevators.
I hated the elevators. They always smelled of lemons, vomit and day old sweat. I caughth myself wrinkling my nose at the smell, in the mirrored walls. Time also seemed to creep, like a slow worm, when I rode them. At last the bell dinged and as soon as the doors were opened far for me to slip through, I did.
Waiting in slot two-hundred and fifty-five was my reliable, but somewhat beat-up white Corolla. Dependable, without standing out in a crowd, my Toyota was the best. I just wished the darn radio would stay were I programmed it to. I patted her affectionately before sliding in the driver's seat.
"Wonder what music I'll be listening to this dark and eerie morning?" I asked myself in the silence of the parking lot.
I checked to see if my Bag of Tricks or BOTS was stocked before starting the car. BOTS was full of everything I would need, including money if I needed to get away. Directions for the job were clearly written on my pad of paper I kept on the passenger seat.
I had always wondered who was fast enough to write the address on the paper in a locked car. I probably always will.
Getting to the site wasn't difficult. I'd seen the name a couple million times when reading the newspaper. Mr. and Mrs. Grossman, Carter and Lily. Mr. Carter Grossman had made his fortune in real estate in the early 2000's, when the market was at its best. Lily Ann Fossen had married well. Both in their mid-forty's. Enough said.
Apparently someone didn't like the wealthy couple. A hit gone bad. That's why I had been called. No one called me to show me they'd done good.
The Grossman's penthouse was, of course, on the east side. The upscale side of town. Beautiful people, gorgeous places of residents.
Finding it wasn't hard. I'd been thinking about upgrading and Wall Avenue looked like a good enough place. As if I could really afford it. I sighed, but a girl can dream.
The job was good. Good pay, great benefits. No one tried to kill me, no one ever took notice off me. Maybe that's why I felt reluctent as I walked through the lobby.
The doorman was sleeping. His snores were like a small chainsaw in the distance. The lobby was full of plants. Big leafy potted foliage sprang up from urns, surrounded by smaller ferns. Their long arms swung with my passage.
I should have felt relieved as the doors of the elevator closed in front of me, but even the cold walls couldn't squelch my nervousness.
My only comforting item was my BOTS hanging form my hand. Everything I needed was at my fingertips, well almost. Sometimes I had to search for the item.
So with my Bag of Tricks at my side, the doors closed and I had only to do my magic. Magic being a loose term. I had acquired my 'magic' by means of seduction and trickery. There really was no other truthful way of putting it. I had literally slept my way to the key.
The feeling of disgust washed over me as I slipped the deceptive key into the penthouse slot and waited for the car to start moving.
The memory of the acquisition of the key was never easy, but each time I used it I made myself remember. After being introduced into the 'club', I had been giving a long and drawn out training. As if Closing would hard. I'd been cleaning for people anyways, just not to this extreme.
Kale Gardener had been my instructor. Wide shoulders V'd into sturdy hips that made every woman lick her lips and say yum. He was one man that got under your skin and stuck like a burr to a dog's leg. Strong willed with deep, wishing well brown eyes, ones you could emerse yourself in and not come up for air.
He'd not fooled me, at least that's what I keep telling myself. I had taken him for a ride, not the other way around. I was the one he sought and I played hard to get. Only giving in when I knew he would give me what I wanted, needed.
I'm not beautiful, I know that. I'm pretty, that I can admit, but if I am persistent I can get what I want or need. I needed that key. Not all closers are given one. I don't know why, they just aren't. I knew that if I were to make this job work I was one of those that needed it.
So here I was riding the penthouse elevator up to an assassination gone wrong. This is where my job started.
Copyright 2008 Brooke
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