The Professional

“Would you care for more coffee, sir?” asked the waiter, one supercilious eyebrow alone betraying his impatience.

“No, thank you,” Ashley said automatically, then, brusquely, ‘Yes; coffee.”

The waiter ticked an expert nod and vanished, from one breath to the next, before Ashley could summon the courage to be curtly dismissive.  Well, he would do it properly next time...  No, in fact, he would not.  It would be better not to call attention to himself.  He was a shadow, a fly on the wall.  He was... the invisible man.

Ashley shifted slightly and a click came from his jacket pocket.  To him, it sounded as loud as a gunshot.  His lower lip crinkled, but he was still master of the situation, aware of everything around him.  He was the architect of the moment, and it was… now.  The time had come, the time for action.  

Ashley tightened his legs, his feet squaring up beneath the table.  He began to turn, one hand slipping into his pocket... but the waiter was already back.

With self-conscious suavity, Ashley relaxed, but he continued to rotate until he was covering the man at the far table with one shaded eye.  If he only wanted to… a mental image of the arrogant waiter, sprawled tragically across the decking, came and vanished in an instant.

The server, supremely ignorant of the caliber of man before him, placed a fresh cup of coffee on the table and stood back.

Ashley surveyed his fellow diners.  A light breeze moved across the patio.  A bird, he did not know what sort, was making noises in a tree along the way.  Three tables over, the man in the yellow button up shirt was ordering.  

Ashley wished he knew the waiter's name, but he had not said it and Ashley never knew the proper way to ask for things like that.

“That will be-,” Ashley began, but he had forgotten to swallow first.  He cleared his throat.

“And, for the young lady, sir?” asked the waiter.

Ashley, coarsening himself for a repetition, was cast adrift.  He took off his round, blue sunglasses.  Immediately, a shaft of afternoon glare stabbed into his eyes and he put them back on.

“The...?” he began.  

His pocket clicked again and the waiter crooked to one side, an almost imperceptible movement.

“May I have just a cup of coffee?” said a voice.

Ashley’s tick as he turned was much less professional.  

And... 

She was beautiful.  

She was so, damn, beautiful it made his jaw hurt.

The young, blond woman who was sitting across the table from him.

This was it.  This was one of those moments, and he knew it, a moment, the moment... for sang-froid.  Instead his head instantly felt light, and he closed his hand over the lapels of his jacket, as if clenching shut a towel over his naked body.

“I’m sorry,” said the woman, coloring slightly.  “I hope you don’t mind me sneakin’ up on ya’, but all the other tables were taken and I know I really should’a asked first, of course.  After all, a man like you is bound to have company, but, do you mind if I sit here?  It’s such a beautiful day and I just wanted to grab a quick cup of coffee and I didn’t want to be stuck inside the restaurant, not when there’re all these nice tables out here, and I thought, well, gee, he looks nice, and he’s only using the one seat, of course, and…”

She stopped speaking.  Somehow, she managed even to do that in a rush.  

Ashley made a fiddly movement with his fingers.  He did not know what he meant by it.

“Gosh, thanks,” said the woman, casting off some last, hidden inhibition.  She rounded down into the chair, subtly claiming ownership of it.

Ashley's fingers felt like they were too big.  They would not slide over each other correctly.  Somehow, he managed to pick up his coffee without spilling, but it was too hot to drink and he pretended to sip before setting the cup back down, adjusting his shoulders beneath the jacket.

“So, you here on business?  What’s your name?” asked the woman brightly, placing her pretty hands on the table.

“Yes; business,” said Ashley, relieved at the steady sound of his voice.

Behind him, the man in the button up had been served and his escort chirped excitedly.  A small but lavish platter had been placed between them and the couple began nibbling at the desserts on it from either side, their little, silver spoons flashing in the sun.

“What sorta’ business?” asked the woman.

Ashley turned back as far as he could, without losing sight of the couple completely, and once again the woman’s beauty struck him like a blow in the solar plexus.

“My name is... Rick,” he said, realizing a second too late that he had answered the question he had thought she was going to ask, and not what she had actually said.  He felt himself becoming truculent and forced his face not to cloud over.

“Oh, I love that name; mine’s Jessica,” said the woman, flashing her brilliant teeth across the table.  “Let’s get some food, too, shall we?”

Ashley nodded and breathed out rigidly.

“What are you doing here… Jessica?” he said.  It was not as difficult as he thought it would be.

“Vacation,” she answered immediately.  “I don’t have any friends here, but the place looked real nice.  You from here?”

“Yes, I’m local,” said Ashley.  “Where’re you from vacationing from, I mean, where are you... from?”

“I’m from all over,” said Jessica breezily, before the awkwardness of his phrasing could come home to Ashley.  

The waiter reappeared and set down another coffee service.  Ashley noticed that Jessica’s cup had a napkin between it and the saucer, two spoons and a little silver charm.  His own coffee had sported none of that.

“Thank you, Alfonzo,” she said sweetly.  “Could we have some bread and butter and little… you know; finger things?”

“Certainly, Mrs. Jessica,” said the waiter, with the shadow of a wink.

“How’d you know his name?” hissed Ashley, when the man had glid away.

“Asked him; silly goose,” said Jessica.  

She took a long, sensuous sip from the cup, seeming to commune with the dark, hot liquid, eyes closed, before replacing it, very delicately, on the napkin.  Ashley felt himself staring.  Suddenly, her eyes popped back open and she leaned closer, her small breast swarming up towards the neckline of her light summer dress, a scent like lemons and cucumbers and… something else, niggling across the intervening space.  It wrapped around the back of Ashley’s neck like a warm hand.

“Who’s that man?” she said, rotating her clear, blue eyes significantly.

She might have meant any of a half dozen, but Ashley replied at once, without thinking,

“He’s a lawyer.”

“Divorce?” whispered Jessica.

“No, I’m not divorced, I’ve never even been, I’m… what, what do you mean,” stammered Ashley.

“Silly,” said Jessica, again.  “I mean, divorce lawyer.  Is he a divorce lawyer?  The way you keep lookin’ over your shoulder… I thought, maybe...”

Ashley shook his head and Jessica wrinkled her pert little nose.  Somehow the movement seemed to continue on, right down her body, disappearing from sight at the neckline.  Ashley swallowed, willing himself not to think about her areolas crinkling.  The blood rose to his cheeks anyway.

“What you thinkin’ about,” said Jessica darkly.  

She leaned back and the breath seemed to whoosh out of Ashley's body into the vacuum.  Magic shushed in the space; cinnamon and brown sugar swirling in a bowl.

“No, no… he’s a crime, a criminal, lawyer,” said Ashley, shaking his head.  He felt drunken, and hot.   The sun had come out from where it had been hiding, behind the fat, autumnal clouds, and he felt silly and obvious in the hat and coat and sunglasses.  As casually as he was able, Ashley slid his arms from the sleeves, folded the jacket, and lay it across the side of the table.  He was so used to the clink he almost didn’t hear it.

“Ooh, what cha’ got there?” said Jessica and Ashley could not speak, could not even react, as she reached into the jacket pocket, lying ridiculously open, and pulled out the stick and wire contraption.  He didn’t have time, didn’t have the strength.  Her audacity had trumped him and he watched helplessly as she turned it over and about in her hands. 

“I’ve seen things like this,” Jessica oohed.  “For catchin’ snakes, right?  You must be really brave.  No, it’s too big for that; dogs?”

Impulsively, Ashley reached over and pushed her hands down onto the table, covering the mechanism.  It was such a masterful gesture that he could hardly believe he had done it and sat frozen, touching her, his outstretched fingers inches from her body.  She was naked, beneath that dress, under her clothes.  She must be wearing panties.  Ashley shook his head but a dull buzzing sound had started up between his ears and would not go away.  His throat was painfully dry.  Jessica was staring at him, her eyes wide and… a little overcome?  She seemed somewhat breathless, her chest rising and falling.  The bones of her hands felt very frail.  He had never thought about that.

“It’s not for dogs,” croaked Ashley.

Wordlessly, the waiter sat down a basket of bread, and other dishes; elegant little plates of food.  He left.

Jessica’s eyes grew bigger.  She seemed to know what Ashley was thinking, to know everything about him and he found himself explaining, wanting desperately to impress her, to hold her at that table, in that moment… with him.  He leaned closer, and she leaned closer, and she left her hands beneath his.

“Listen,” hissed Ashley.  “That man is a lawyer, but he doesn’t do divorces; that’s for sure.  He works for the mob, you know, the mafia.”

“The mafia,” whispered Jessica.  “Are you sure?”

Ashley nodded.

“Are we safe here?” she asked.  “Should we be this close?”

“Oh, you’re safe enough,” said Ashley.  

He breathed in.  

“With me,” he said.  

Like a man.

Jessica tilted her head.

“I knew I was,” she said, radiating a soft glow.  “I could tell, could just... feel it.”

Ashley felt blood coursing through his ears.

“I’m gonna kill him,” he said.  

The admission surprised Ashley.  He had not planned to say that.

The moment slowed.  

He felt his face grow cold.

“Is he a, ‘bad man?’” whispered Jessica.

Ashley nodded.

“Are you a spy?” asked Jessica.

Ashley shook his head.

“An assassin?”

Ashley shook his head.

“I’m just a man,” he said, and was surprised to find that he didn’t feel like an ass.  He was a man, doing what a man should.  

Jessica seemed to understand.

“But, you’re local,” she said.  “And he’s just passin’ through- I mean, he must be just passin’ through, right?”

Ashley nodded.

“So, what are you gonna do?” said Jessica.

“I’m going to kill him,” said Ashley again, firmly.  “Right now.  He’s getting gangsters off left and right.  At the moment, he’s defending Don Midrone; that’s why he’s here.  He’s an evil man, defending evil men, making their crimes possible.  I saw it on television.  Someone has to do something and it’s going to be me.  I’m going to slip this loop over his head, pull this handle, and strangle him.  It’s the right thing to do.”

Jessica looked mesmerized.

“You'd do that?  You’re so brave,” she whispered.  “But, don’t you think a man, like that, would have protection?  Bodyguards, I mean?  Somebody like him would have professionals, the best in the business.  What would you do about them?”

“I don’t see anybody,” Ashley said, shrugging.  “I guess he’s too arrogant, doesn’t think he needs them, that somehow he’s immune.  Besides, even if he has, once this is around his neck it’ll be too late, no matter what happens to me.” 

“But, what if you miss him?” said Jessica, sliding her hands free and sitting up straight.  She selected a small piece of bread from a plate and put it in her mouth.

“I’m not going to miss him,” said Ashley, finally taking a real sip of his coffee.  He was surprised to find that it had grown cold.

“I’ve been practicing for this,” he said.  “Because once he leaves town, I don’t think I’ll be able to get to him again.  It has to be right now.  This is the only time.”

Jessica smiled into his soul.

“Well, I hope it works out,” she said.  “I’d be too scared.”

Ashley started to turn, but Jessica reached over and touched him on the arm.

“Tell me more; tell me about yourself,” she said.  “Here; have a slice of apple.”

But, Ashley felt muddled.  He needed to turn around.  Somehow, everything was going wrong.  The apparatus he had made lay on the table unguarded.  It looked obvious, and vaguely obscene.  He felt like he was choking.  Jessica shifted and her breast moved under the thin fabric.

“You’re so brave, Rick,” she said, and licked her lower lip.  Her tongue was the pink color of a wild strawberry.

Suddenly, Ashley lurched.  He did not know why.  Something deep down had thrust up inside of him, knelling like a bell.  He slewed about like a drunken man, his eyes strafing the patio.  

And.

Everything... was different.  He didn’t recognize any of the people.  The tables were all different.  The waiters were different.  The sun was lower.

Ashley stumbled upward.  The trees rippled slightly.  He felt drunk.  The table the man in the yellow, button up shirt had been sitting at was now surrounded by three older women.  They were drinking tea.  One had purple glasses on.

He fumbled in their direction, remembered that his weapon was lying on the table, and half twisted to pick it up.  His lips were numb.  He abandoned it.

“Where is he,” Ashley cried.  

He wasn’t sure he had even spoken aloud.

The ladies looked up benignly.  

Life refused to rise.

Ashley floundered to the railing, breathing like a train.  The man was nowhere to be seen.  The street was full of dust and light.

Ashley swung about, futility hanging over him in an unrealized, suspended breath, before his own banality and smallness crushed him up.

Jessica was gone, her chair pushed in.  

She might never have been there at all.