“Leslie!", yells a man dressed in a pair of dark blue slacks, a white button up shirt with the top button left undone, and a pair of nicely polished brown leather oxford shoes. He is holding his left hand up as if he were hailing a cab. I smiled and wave back as I work my way towards him on the busy sidewalk in front of Pocorello’s. 

It is a nice Italian restaurant that always seems packed to full compacity and that is why I chose this restaurant. Always a full house, busy sidewalks, and easy access to a cab, or in my case an Uber ride, prescheduled to pick me up in 2 hours. That is all the time I allowed myself tonight.  

As I reach him, he smiles and grabs my elbow to lead me into the restaurant. “Come with me. They just informed me that our table is ready.” he said. "How lucky are we to get a table tonight. This place is packed!” he said staring at me. 

“Very lucky, indeed.” I said with a smile on my face. 

Still smiling I nod at the Maitre d’ that is waiting for us. He cordially nods back at me with a slight upward turn of the corner of his mouth, as if he knew what my business here was tonight. He leads us through the crowded tables, each filled with family, friends, or couples. All of which are laughing and enjoying the evening. Some were still eating, and some were just finishing and getting ready to leave as the server's assistant eyes them from a corner of the restaurant, ready to clear the table in record time. Just so it can be filled with the next group of patrons waiting to be seated.  

I wonder if he gets a tip from the other servers if he does this in record time. After all, the larger the volume of people that flow through here means more tips. 

“Here you go. Your server will be with you in a moment” says the Maitre d’, as he turns to walk away. Vincent pulls my chair out for me, and I sit. “Thank you” I said as I was smoothing my dress with my hands. 

“So, have you ever been here before?” he asked as he seated himself across from me. 

“No, I haven’t, but I heard on the radio how good the food is and thought it would be a good place to try.” I said as I leaned in towards him. 

“It must be, with all these people here.” He says as he looks around taking in his surroundings looking a little nervous.

Strange, I think to myself, he was not nervous when he approached me at the bar last night. Funny what alcohol does for you. Liquid courage. 

“Hello, my name is Charles, and I will be serving you tonight. What would you like to drink?” the server says as he turns to Vincent. 

“I will have a Negroni” says Vincent. 

“And you miss?” asked the server as he turns toward me.  

“I will have a Martini with extra olives.”  

“Both excellent choices." Says Charles as he places the menus on the table and walks away. 

While Vincent studies the menu I look at his facial features. He looks better in this light, compared to the lighting at the bar where I met him last night. I did not even have to work hard to get his attention then. He seemed to have had a few drinks because his speech was starting to slur, and him not being able to stand for too long without one of his legs jerking, as if someone hit him in the back of the knee. I was a little worried to be honest that he would not remember us making plans to meet here tonight. Which only means I would have to hunt him down again. But it worked out and here we are. 

“Do you know what you might order?” I asked as I studied the menu. 

“I think I will keep it traditional and have the lasagna.” He said looking up from the menu. “What about you?” 

“I will do the same.” I said with a smile. Not that I will eat very much of it. I thought to myself. This is just business. It does not matter. Just get in and get out without being caught. That is all that matters. 

Charles shows up with our drinks and checks to see if we are ready to place our order. "We will both have the lasagna." said Vincent. "Oh, Charles make sure to bring me another drink in about five minutes." With raised eyebrows, Charles nods and retreats from the table. 

 Ahh, that must be a crutch for him. This will not be too hard after all. He is starting to relax. “What do you do for a living?” I asked. 

“I am a stockbroker.” He said with a self-proclaimed heir of importance and a crooked smile. 

“How interesting.” I said as I placed my chin on my hands and leaned forward on the table. “Do tell me more.” 

He seemed excited to have my full attention as he dove into his explanation of what he does, for what felt like... well, forever. It wasn't too long when Charles was bringing Vincent his second drink.

“I can't seem to find people who want to work to my standards now days.” Scoffs Vincent as he tips his glass back up to his mouth. “Just today I had an employee leave saying something about doing better somewhere else.” Vincent said as he waved his arms up in the air.  

He is defiantly feeling more relaxed. I thought as I watched him become even more animated as he continued with his story. 

“I told him good luck with that!” Vincent chuckled. 

At that moment, Charles arrived with our salads. I requested a glass of water from him, and he nodded in acknowledgment while observing Vincent's glass, which was still half full. He then turned to retrieve my water. 

“They cannot seem to be able to handle extra work when I need it done. I must delegate these things so I can be free to supervise them and be available if an emergency comes up.” Vincent says all the while looking like he is incredibly pleased with his statement. 

A little while later Charles arrives with my glass of water, our food and a third drink for Vincent. Then the server disappears into the shadows with little effort. How impressive I thought. 

I look over at Vincent’s plate of food as he dives in and starts eating. I noticed that Vincent ate four breadsticks and all his salad from earlier this evening. He must have a healthy appetite. Good for him because he should really enjoy this meal. 

“Excuse me.” Vincent said in muffled voice. “I need to go to the men's room.” 

“Oh sure, no problem.” I said looking up. “I will guard your plate for you.” 

I watched him turn and walk away in the direction of the restrooms. I then changed my gaze to the people sitting around us as I removed a small, folded piece of paper from my pocket. I held it in front of my lap as I unfolded it. Looking again I made sure that no one was paying attention to me, I dumped the powdered substance from the folded paper into his drink. I then grabbed a breadstick from the breadbasket next to his drink. I began to shake the glass with the side of my hand to help the powder work its way through out the drink, till it all dissolved.  

Vincent returned to the table after a few minutes and sat down. “Did you miss me?” he asked while he picked up his fork and continued to eat.  

“I sure did.” I said as I gave him a flirtatious wink. He noticed and revealed a toothy smile. 

Then Vincent went into a full-blown bitch fest about the men’s room and that it only has two stalls but plenty of urinals.  

“Is that so?” I said looking shocked. “How unfortunate.” Shaking my head in disappointment. 

We continued to eat while exchanging small talk about the weather and local events. When I looked at his plate, I noticed he had eaten everything without leaving a crumb. He even ate an additional breadstick. 

“Do you want to have any desert?” He asked as he downed the last of his drink. I smiled as I watched him put his glass back down on the table and the ice cubes made a clanking sound symbolizing that the glass was empty. 

“Yes, I would like to try the tiramisu if you don’t mind.” I said as I glanced at my watch under the table. It is time for me to get moving, I thought to myself. “Could you order it for me?” I asked, “Because I need to go the ladies' room.” I stood up and grabbed my bag. 

“Yes, by all means. I will order it while you are gone.” He waved for me to move along. Almost like he was shooing a child away. I just smiled as I turned and started my way to the restroom noting a path that I will take to leave the restaurant after I leave the restroom. 

Upon entering the ladies' room, I observed three women conversing about their dates while they freshened up their lipstick in front of the mirror. Acknowledging them with a smile, I proceeded to a stall. Once inside, I closed the door and began unpacking my bag, taking out a pair of tennis shoes, black yoga pants, a white t-shirt, a black zip-up jacket, and a red baseball cap. I changed out of my dress and heels into the more casual attire. After securing my long black hair into a ponytail through the back of the baseball cap, I waited for the women to leave. 

When they exited, I stepped out of the stall, approached the mirror, took a paper towel, and removed some excess makeup from my face. Glancing at my watch, I realized I had spent enough time there. I discarded the red dress—purchased from a thrift store—into the garbage can, covering it with paper towels. However, I kept the shoes, as I found them appealing and considered that one can never have too many pairs of shoes. After a final check in the mirror, I exited the ladies' room. 

I went straight down the hall, took a right, and exited through the front doors. I looked for my ride—a red Corolla according to the app. "Where are they?" I muttered. My phone showed they should arrive any minute, but it had been over 15 minutes since I left the table. Most of that time was waiting for the women in the restroom to stop gossiping. Vincent might get worried and send someone to check on me. Plus, the powder in his drink will start working in about ten minutes. 

Just as I look up a wave of relief falls over me as I see the red Corolla pull up. As I star walking to the car the window rolls down. A man with red hair leans over the front seat. “Are you Gina?” That would be fake name number two tonight. “Why yes I am, and I have been waiting for you.” At that moment I open the back door of the car to get in. I give him the address I need to go to, and he pulls away from the curb and drives forward. What a relief, I thought while letting out a deep breath. 

Twenty minutes later, we reached the address I had given him, and the car came to a stop in front of some apartments. I thank the driver while getting out of the car and headed towards the front doors of the apartments as he pulls away. I slow my pace down to watch him drive out of view. When I could not see him anymore, I turned around and started walking in the opposite direction to a grey Honda. I get in the car, turn the key in the ignition and drive off. “That went well.” I said out loud as I drove down the street. 

Vincent was an attractive man. One I might have gone out with at one time, that is until I found out about his character. He did indeed work in finance, but he was not a stockbroker. He was a personal assistant to a stockbroker. He was also a person in the office that everyone detested. He was a not so important person that felt he was above everyone else. Someone with no original ideas or plans of his own but will take credit for the work that other people did. Including my little brother’s. 

 Derek is my little brother by five years and had been having a rough time for over a year under this jerk Vincent. Vincent would always tell the uppers that he did not feel that Derek was ready to move up. Derek was already running circles around Vincent. Vincent enjoyed making others miserable and that ended today for Derek because he quit his job after obtaining another one at a different brokerage. He would be making more money and have a higher position. “Good for you Derek.” I said with a smile. After all, this is what he went to college for. Unlike Vincent, who did not study in this field and was only hired as a favor to a family friend. 

After another twenty minutes I pulled into a driveway by a red brick house and turned the car off. I got out of the car and walked to the front door when it opened. I was met with a smiling face with blue eyes and blonde hair. 

“How did it go, sis?” asked Derek.  

I walked inside and put my things down. As I turned around to face him, I pulled off the baseball cap and the black wig, letting my blonde hair loose to fall out of the bun that was stuffed under the wig I was wearing. “Oh, that feels better.” I said as I scratched my head. Then I gave my brother a hug and stepped back to look at him. “Glad to see you.” I said with a smile as wide as my face would allow. 

“Yeah, yeah.” He said staring at me anxiously, “But how did it go?” 

“Everything went as expected. The additive to his drink should have kicked in while he was at the restaurant and if so, “ I paused and started to chuckle, “he has been in one of two stalls in the men’s room for over an hour and isn’t leaving unless someone goes to pick him up, because I gave him enough laxative to clean a horse out!”