Flash Fiction Friday (Formerly Fortune Cookie) – 25 september 2015

The best way to pay for a lovely moment is to enjoy it.

“I don’t want to have to pay for this.”

“You won’t.”

“You mean I won’t have to pay, or I won’t regret it?”

“Both?” She looks at me lightly, then tips her head to the side and squints slightly, staring at me through her lashes. In this light her eyes look almost crimson. “We won’t do anything you don’t want to do.”

“I’m not afraid of that.”

“Then what are you afraid of, us doing something you want? Afraid of what that might be?”

“Maybe. I don’t know, I just don’t want this to come around to bite me on the ass.”

“Yeah. I got that. What do you want me to do about it? Promise nothing will happen? Promise I won’t let you go too far? Kind of takes the fun out of the whole thing, doesn’t it?”

“I could be disbarred.”

She snorts. “If lawyers were disbarred for… intimate contact with parties other than their spouses you’d be the only one left. And even so, wouldn’t it be better to join your peers at that point?”

She smiles that closed mouth, toothless smile. Christ.

“Christ. You twist me up, you know that.”

“I do.”

“You enjoy it.”

She just smiles.

“So… how do we… start.”

“You act like a school boy. Like a thirteen year old virgin.”

“This is my first time—“

“Oh shut up.”

“For this, I mean, for doing something like this. Obviously it’s not my first time.”

“Well, you could undress me. Or I could undress you.”

There’s a pause, too short for me to know if I’m supposed to do anything. She doesn’t move, so neither do I.

“I could stand behind you, you could pretend it’s the doctor’s office.”

“Very funny.”

“Turn your head and cough?”

I step toward her.

“No? Not up for playing doctor?”

“Not today,” I mouth.

She give me her one sided grin and the first sign of teeth pop out from the corner of her mouth.

“So… what do you want?”

“Big case tomorrow.”


“I’m going to lose. I have no idea what the prosecution is planning, no—“

Her smile sours and her lips close, briefly, before a fainter, less playful one returns. This is her bargaining face.

“And what can I do for it?”

“I’d love to know, to be able to know what they’re planning, what their arguments are going to build on.”

“Ah, I see.”

“Know their thoughts, or—“

“Read their minds?”

I let the question hang as a means of answer. She re-buttons the top of her blouse, has already straightened her skirt. I didn’t even see her do it.

“A quart.”

“Christ, that much?”

“Yeah, well, I have to give half back, don’t I?”

Take off your shirt. No stains for the missus.”

I can tell she’s disappointed, and when her teeth first punch in, I worry that she’s going to take it out on my neck. But then the pain eases, and before long she’s slipping her wrist into my mouth.

“You’ve got a day, maybe thirty-six hours. After that, you have to win the case on your own.”

After a pause, “And don’t call me next week. I think we need a break.”

With that, she’s out the window.

Happy almost the month of Halloween.