Today’s theme is JOBS!
And Sylvia is an assassin. That’s a job, right?
“I’m just trying to make sure I have a nice, easy life.” Faith shrugged, unconcerned. “Just like you have a nice, easy life. It’s only fair.”
Fair. Fair? The absurdity of the conversation was almost enough to make Sylvia choke on the wine. Except she’d actually heard more absurd shit in her long life. After all, she was an assassin—very often, people didn’t have good reasons for wanting to see another person dead.
“Fair…” Sylvia lowered her glass of wine to the bar and spun around, studying the blonde and her friend. “Life really doesn’t have a great deal to do with being fair, does it?”
Sylvia James leaned back against the bar and crossed her legs, an amused smile on her lips, keeping a hand on her purse. “I mean, if you wanted to talk about fair, we could talk about the fact that it wouldn’t be unfair to expect a woman to actually abide by the vows she took.”
Faith went white, and then red. Not quite so pretty now when she was pissed. Sylvia smiled. She was going to make the woman even angrier shortly.
Next to Faith, her friend squirmed uncomfortably. “Hey, lady, we’re just…”
“You, my dear, were just avoiding a whole shitload of trouble,” Sylvia said, resting an elbow on the bar, flicking her a glance before looking back at Faith. “You, on the other hand…”
“Bitch, why don’t you mind your own business?” Faith narrowed her eyes.
“My own business?” Arching a brow, she slid off the stool and sauntered closer to the table the women shared. “Maybe we should just get down to business then…?” Without waiting for an answer, she reached into her purse and withdrew a small digital recorder, hit the play button.
Faith’s voice, recorded two days ago, came out.
And Sylvia didn’t need supersensitive hearing to hear Faith’s breath catch as her eyes darted to the recorder and then back up to Sylvia’s face.
“Now, Ms. Dwyer, what were you saying about minding my own business?” With one hand resting on her purse, she leaned over the table, peering into Faith’s dazed eyes. “You called me. I told you I’d be here. I told you to take precautions. I told you to be discreet. I also told you…no lies.”
She paused and sipped her wine, studying the dark red liquid, desperately wishing it was something else. “Now I’ve been sitting here for twenty minutes. You weren’t discreet. You didn’t take precautions. And…” She drew her voice out, studying the woman through her lashes, watching as the blood slowly drained from Faith Dwyer’s face. “You lied to me.”
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