At First Sight

Perhaps it was the way he held himself, with the kind of male dominance that was the 21st century mating call, or maybe it was his fiery hazel eyes sweeping over the room longingly, but she couldn’t possibly look away. 

He stood at the edge of the counter, making small talk with the wary server, gesturing towards the menu occasionally. She kept her eyes locked on him, counting herself trivial enough to the scenery of the small, cramped coffee shop that he would not notice her. She allowed herself to dissect his appearance - casual business attire of the white collar middle class, freshly polished shoes and a confident smile that he flashed at any one who would meet his eyes. On his wrist boasted a rolex watch - a gift no doubt, from a proud father or adoring wife she couldn’t be sure. 

She leaned back in her chair and waited for movement, her hand grasping for her purse which sat limply at the foot of her chair, preparing to approach him once he had his order, rapidly mulling over how to break the ice, letting her mind procure compliments and conversation starters. 

The server handed him two cups, and for the first time, she hesitated, considering something she hadn’t thus far. He could be meeting his girlfriend for lunch, and that girlfriend might be the next woman to walk in that door. She couldn’t bring herself to approach him then; she wasn’t that kind of girl, despite the instant attraction she had to him. She rubbed her thighs nervously, smoothing the fabric pulled across them as disappointment uncertainly crept into her stomach.She had such high hopes when she’d spotted him.

He turned from the counter and made his way deeper into the small shop, and she found herself examining the way his shirt twisted over his torso. He was toned, she could tell from the way the cotton curved and rippled. She noticed the outfit was a tighter fit, the sleeves threatening to give way to biceps that were clearly exercised regularly. She could tell it was deliberate from the exaggerated way he walked, pulling the fabric even tighter. Her mind strayed for only a moment, considering how much strength there might be in his embrace. 

He stopped in front of her table, drawing her eyes back up to his face and her mind back to reality;  she composed herself as she met his gaze innocently. “Hello,” he crooned, once again boasting that confident grin. “I couldn’t help but notice you watching me.” She swallowed as her cheeks reddened, betraying her. So she had caught his attention, after all.

“Hello,” she responded politely. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to stare, I couldn’t help it. You caught my eye from the moment you walked in,” she looked down and crossed her hands on her lap. She distracted herself by tracing the patterns of the tile floor, but from the corner of her eye, she saw his grin widen, a glimmer of arrogance dancing across his face.

“That’s certainly flattering to hear from a beautiful woman such as yourself,” he replied coolly. “This is for you, by the way. I noticed you didn’t have a drink and I thought you might be thirsty” he placed the second cup in front of her. She eyed it carefully as her stare crept back towards his. “It’s black, I didn’t know what you took. Can I sit?” 

She nodded to the chair across hers before answering; “I don’t drink coffee,” she smiled apologetically, “and I don’t know if it’s a good idea to accept drinks from men I’ve just met. You don’t know what kind of freaks are out there,” she met his stare again, her lip curled ever so slightly upward. “You could be a killer or something.”

“Oh, sorry,” he stared off to an errant window, slightly dejected. “You’re at a coffee house and you don’t even drink coffee?”

“Seems as good a place as any to sit and wait,” once again, their eyes met,  and his brow raised in curiosity. 

“Wait? For what exactly?”

She considered the question, watching the comers and goers of the cafe. She considered the people surrounding their little chance encounters. Tired baristas manning the tills, amateaur writers pouring over laptops, the occasional group of friends and their assortment of beverages. She found her way back to him.

“Wait for someone like you.” His eyebrows raised, the lightest color reached his cheeks. She leaned forward, letting her chest rest on the table, propping her chin onto her folded hands. She crossed her legs, letting one foot brush his leg playfully. “What about you?”

He was careful not to break eye contact and he responded: “I’m just a guy looking to get his lunch-time coffee… Meeting you here was just me getting lucky,” the double-entendre was not lost on her, she winked.

“Lucky… Not the first word that came to mind, but if you’d like,” she smiled, never leaving his gaze.

“You have the prettiest eyes,” his eyes briefly wandered, sweeping her body; he traced each of her curves, as if willing to see the soft skin he imagined beneath her clothes. He lingered for the shortest moment on her breasts, framed now by her slender arms.

“Thank you,” now it was her turn to be cool, as she flashed a welcoming smile accented by only the subtlest batting of her lashes. She held his gaze in a stare that could have lasted a lifetime if it lasted a minute, and noticed as he leaned towards her, despite that he hadn’t seemed to notice himself.            

She let the moment linger, considering how best to take this little rendez-vous elsewhere… Somewhere more private than the coffee shop. In her head she could picture her car, parked just behind the cafe. She could simply proposition him, but if it turned out he had more pride then he let on, he might slip through her fingers. She considered asking him to meet her later, but she’d been waiting for him all this time. The thought of letting him go now made her feel hollow. What if she never saw him again? What if someone else got him instead? No, she had to have him now. He seemed interested enough, ogling her with those passionate eyes. She made the decision finally to invite him back to her place.

“Would you at all be interested in taking this somewhere else?” he hesitated, diverting his eyes. For a moment she could feel the surprise in her face. He was propositioning her? She was grateful that he was taking that step, making this so easy for her. How lucky she was that men were so easy to please. “I know it’s a bit forward… I feel a real connection here,” he looked sheepish, dialling down his confidence to expose a glimpse of true vulnerability. She wondered if what he was saying could be true.

Despite this being exactly what she’d hoped, she knew it was risky to be too forward. She leaned away ever so slightly. “Don’t you have anywhere to be? I’d hate to steal you away from something important,” she chose to play coy, knowing now that she wouldn’t need to lead him. He would follow her on his own interest. 

He shrugged. “Nowhere I’d rather be anyway. We can get a chance to… talk, more privately.”

“Didn’t you say you were on your lunch?” she raised an eyebrow playfully.

“I can be late, just this once,” the confident smile returned.

She let out a soft bell laugh. “Does that work on all the girls? Sweep her to your chateau and promise her a half hour past lunch to make her feel special?” she paused, and if he’d known any better, he might have noticed the fire in her eyes as she said “I’m afraid you most certainly will be late.” One more wink, for good measure.

“Is that a yes?”

In response, she held out her hand the way royalty might ask you to “kiss the ring”. He grabbed it with his own, making sure to never break eye contact. As he led her ever so gently to the exit, she swung down and grabbed her purse, sure to fling it over her unoccupied arm, making sure the hilt of her handgun was out of view. 

“My apartment is just a few blocks that-a-ways,” he pointed down the street as they stepped into the open air. She saw where the taller offices gave way to some smaller, residential buildings, where the taxis and mercedes gave way to pedestrians and humble family vans.

In response, she tugged ever so lightly on his arm, pulling them closer together so that her chest was touching his, looking up into his eyes sweetly. She realized now that they were both standing that he was almost a foot taller than her. “My car is parked behind the cafe, we could drive. It’ll be faster.” She didn’t wait for his response.

He let her lead him around the back of the shop, where the shadow of the much taller office beside it cast the little alley in darkness, a stark contrast from the bright noon sunlight. The alley was completely abandoned, only ever visited by delinquants getting drunk after dinner and the cafe workers who brought out the trash. About half way down the length of the building sat a sleek little black sedan, the windows darker still than the alley itself. He let out a small scoff. “I can’t believe we’re really doing this,” he faltered slightly at the mouth of the alley, but she continued tugging him along - too excited to be wavered now. “Do you think we should maybe get to know each other a little better?”

She turned to face him finally, stopping on the passenger side of the car. “I thought that was the point of our little venture… To talk, privately,” she glanced back at him.

“Oh come on, you know what my intentions are,” he raised a hand to the back of his neck, frowning as he glanced over her and her car. 

 She smiled again, more genuine this time. “I don’t doubt your intentions here, and I’m sure you don’t doubt mine, and if things go well then who knows… Maybe I’ll do this again sometime.” She beckoned him towards her, until he was standing in front of her, beside the passenger door. 

 “See, you want this, I want this, so let’s-” her eyes drifted for a moment to her front tire “-damn it, I think the tire is low on air - would you mind checking it for me? I have a pump in the trunk.”

He considered her words for a moment, and his eyes once again considered the angles and size of her body. “Sure,” he conceded, regaining the confident smile from inside.

“Thanks,” she made her way to the back of the car as he knelt down to the tire. Opening the trunk, she scrutinized it’s contents. First a pack of zip ties awaiting purpose, followed by a neat assortment of various blades typically used by a butcher, and finally a small bottle of chloroform with some rags. An opaque plastic tarp was neatly folded in the back. She picked up the bottle of chloroform, careful to keep it out of view in case he turned back to face her. It was no use, a man of his size, it would take a minute or two for the chemical to take effect. If she could hold him for that long, anyway. There was no way she could risk it. 

Off to the side, a tire iron she kept on the chance of a real tire emergency sat inconspicuously. She smiled privately to herself. The one thing in this trunk she hadn’t counted on needing was the thing she needed the most. She would know better for next time.

“So,” his voice broke the quiet that fell over the alleyway, “what are your intentions with me then, if I may ask?” she could hear the smirk in his voice.

She approached him quietly, the first man she would ever kill. As she got within striking distance, she started. 

“Well,” her arm reared back, tire-iron in hand, “can you keep a secret?”