Short Story – “En Flagrante” – Part 1
From my office on the 4th floor of this god forsaken building, in the god forsaken city of Havana I could see the steam rising off the streets below. A place that time forgot.
It was hot, hot I tell you, and the ceiling fan in my office had two settings; sweat and sweatier. And then SHE walked in, with legs up to here and a dress cut down to there… It was enough to make a tough man cry, to make a smart man… well, you get the picture.
And then she tossed one on my desk, picture that is, of a man, ‘en flagrante.’
“I want him dead. I don’t care what it costs.”
I swallowed hard, but my mouth was as dry as the sand dunes that were swirling through my brain. I barely coughed out my reply, “Listen lady, this ain’t that kind of place, I ain’t that kind of guy.” But she was already heading for the door. “I’ll meet you here tomorrow at noon.”
My mind was racing, I briefly considered packing up my duds and taking the slow boat to China. But I was already hooked, and she knew it. I’d be there.
I started to speak, but she was gone.
Her perfume hung in the air, like an invitation.
My goose was cooked, and I knew it. I had a date with destiny in less than 24, no 17 hours…. and the clock was ticking.
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