CHAPTER 11 #2
She disappears into the crowd alone. I turn away and mingle with some of the other attendees, enjoying my champagne and their company.
A balding man stands behind a podium and clinks his glass, drawing the attention of the crowd.
We listen patiently as he gives a canned speech about children and happiness and how the money we contribute aids the cause.
He never actually shares what we’re saving the children from.
Polite applause follows his spiel. A few other chairmen of the foundation speak, a toast is given, and then a band strikes up a fun jazz tune.
“Miss Larson?” A member of the waitstaff taps on my shoulder. I turn around confused. “I have been requested to invite you upstairs for a private meeting. Our benefactors wish to speak to you about a unique business opportunity.”
I acquiesce and follow him, dreading the inevitable timeshare pitch that must be coming.
This is how they get you. They feed you shrimp and goat cheese, loosen you up with jazz and champagne, and boom!
You just signed a contract for a property in Jamaica.
My uncle fell for that once. Now, us Larsons know better.
My theory becomes less plausible as we step off the elevator on the second floor.
Sparks is waiting in the hallway, twisting a strand of hair around her finger.
Her eyes meet mine and I can almost feel her telling me, See!
I told you so! The waiter steps back onto the elevator and the doors close behind him.
Sparks walks up to my side, nonchalantly.
“If things go like I think they’re about to,” she whispers quietly. “There is a knife tucked in the back of my garter. Don’t move outside of arm's reach of me.”
“It is not going to come to that.” I try to sound confident.
“How sure of that are you?” She spots my bluff. “That’s what I thought.”
A door opens and a kind, middle-aged woman stands in front of a long table.
“Good evening,” she greets with a cheery disposition. “Come in! Come in! We’re so glad you could make it.”
We step into the conference room as the lady walks around behind the table.
Two men sit on each side of her wearing suits and ties.
Sparks positions herself ever so slightly in front of me.
She’s always been overprotective, and I try not to roll my eyes at her possessiveness.
I step around her and take a seat. Sparks slowly pulls out her chair and sits down, alert and suspicious.
The lady across the desk watches our interaction carefully.
“Have you enjoyed the gala thus far?” She claps her hands together excitedly. I’ll admit, this is a very strange timeshare pitch.
“It’s very nice, Miss…” I answer, hoping she’ll fill in her name.
“Excuse my manners.” Her manicured nails dramatically flourish. “You can call me Marissa. These are my associates.”
“Nice to meet you, Marissa.” I nod politely. Sparks says nothing.
“Could I offer you anything to drink?” Marissa folds her hands in front of her. “Water, sparkling water, juice, soda, more champagne?”
“I’ll take some water.” I accept her offer graciously.
“Sorry, all out of water.” Her plastic smile doesn’t waver. “Anything else?
“No, thank you,” I decline, confused. Didn’t she just offer water? Marissa turns to Sparks.
“I’m fine,” she says tersely. I sigh as Marissa cocks her head, almost like she’s glitching. Could Sparks be any more off-putting?
“Alright then, on to business.” She smiles again. “My organization offers a very exclusive service to high-level clientele. To be brief, we make their problems go away. I believe you two would be valuable assets to the team.”
Her smile is starting to get unsettling. I shift in my seat and subtly move my hand towards Spark’s thigh. She senses my discomfort and pretends to fix her hair. She uses that motion to adjust her legs, giving me easier access to the slit in her skirt.
“I don’t know what you mean,” I chuckle awkwardly. “I make a killer latte, but my mochas could use some work.”
“Oh, I think you know what I mean.” Her sickly-sweet facade drops. “And I have no doubt that the Water Weaver’s mocha is of excellent quality.”
“Who?” I tilt my head. Marissa ignores my denial and turns to Sparks.
“And Miss Jennings, we would like to offer our condolences on the loss of your mother.” Her sympathy doesn’t reach her eyes. “How tragic.”
“Yes, tragic.” Sparks keeps her expression neutral. I have no idea what she is thinking.
“Thank you for dispatching Mr. Davis for us.” Now her smile is real. “His insubordination was… vexing for us.”
“I assume you mean Jack?” Sparks leans back in her chair as if she were in total control of the situation. I hope she is. “We were on more of a first-name basis.”
Marissa doesn’t react. I can see her calculating her next move.
“I’ll consider your offer of employment,” Sparks continues. “But I have some questions first.”
“I can’t guarantee you answers.” Marissa’s plastic smile has returned.
“Did you cause the explosion at Synergy Labs?” Sparks locks eyes with Marissa, who ponders the question.
“That was not the goal.” She chooses her words carefully. “The intention was to create a duplicate hard drive, however, a rogue asset did cause a mistake which resulted in an unfortunate chain of events.”
“So that’s a yes?” Sparks clarifies, giving nothing away with her expression. I look between the two, following the conversation like a spectator at a tennis match.
“That is not the way I would classify the incident,” Marissa responds, hands folded together. “Perhaps we should discuss the job opportunity.”
“Whatever you think is best.”
Sparks picks an imaginary piece of lint off the front of her dress and smooths the fabric of her skirt.
As she does so, she moves the panels of her skirt.
While Marissa is distracted with Spark’s disinterest, I slide my hand under her leg.
I find the hilt of the knife easily and slip it between the folds of my skirt.
“Our position offers the opportunity to travel to exotic locations all over the world with a comfortable per diem,” Marissa pitches. “Imagine, a trip to the island of Costa Rica―”
“We’re not interested,” Sparks interrupts icily. “Thank you for your consideration.”
“You didn’t get to hear about the benefits package,” Marissa growls, suddenly aggravated. “But more importantly, you missed a key qualification for the position. We weren’t asking.”
Time stands still. Marissa and her associates rise to their feet. Sparks whips to me, her eyes focused and resolute. She only says one word before the lights go black.
“Run.”