A Deal To Kill For

‘Third Floor. 5 o’clock. Cash Only’, the message read

‘P.S. I will be in gray’.

I stared at my phone nervously reading the message over and over again.

It was time.

With the cash stuffed clumsily in my bag, I put my phone into my pocket and darted outside, slamming the door behind me. I could feel the sweat coming on – Should I be doing this? I kept second questioning myself. I wasn’t ready.

It was 4:56 PM.

I did not know if I needed it, or whether it was worth it, yet, it had become a habit.

I glanced around at the bag full of cash and wondered what else could be of it. It was too late now; a deal is a deal. I had gotten myself into this mess.

I parked the car hastily and got out. Carrying the bag, I strutted into the building and made my way past the scent of leather soles and frying oils. I was determined.

I got into the elevator with a couple of other people behind me. I kept focusing on the floor to avoid any eye contact.

I was nervous. As I stepped out, I looked around, searching, and I saw her staring straight at me through a tall glass window. Sly, yet calm, a tall, dark figure, wearing what seemed to be a wig,  looked me dead in the eye as I stared back, choking.

There, animatedly, she stood wearing the low cut gray dress that I have wanted for weeks but had been way above my budget. I rushed into the store, past the mannequin, and with the accomplished feeling of finally owning the dress; I walked out with more than just one of what the store had to offer.

As I laid the seventeen bags in line in the back of my car, I glared at them with a sense of satisfaction. Taking a last look at the mall, I turned around and got into the car. What a deal it had been, indeed – until the next time. I smiled and drove off.