Surgical Strategies

Back in the day, assassination had been Cedric’s most polished skill.  But one such job had earned him a nasty scar, and another had left him vomiting on his shoes.  So eventually he had moved on, taking less dangerous, more esthetically pleasing, directions.

But whatever the job, he’d never reneged on a contract and never lied to a client, and this project was no exception:  old folks down, no accidental fatalities.

The phone rang as he sat in his BMW, sirens howling past.  It was Sophia Vanderpoole, the recruiter who had investigated Cedric’s background and divulged it to Asch.  Now, she wanted Cedric to bring red wine for dinner.  Sophia had been annoyed when he first contacted her six weeks ago, but they soon got beyond that, neither of them being in the habit of bearing grudges.

“Good day?” Sophia asked that evening.

“Very,” said Cedric, pulling the cork from the bottle.  “Soph, what would you think about us getting married?”

“Maybe,” said Sophia.  “Put the past behind us?”

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This is me: home-writer, book-reader, dog-lover and occasional poet. I make this website to share my and my friends texts with You, dear Reader. Please: read carefully, don't be scary, upgrade your mood and be king and leave your comment. :)