She waited anxiously by the payphone almost hoping he wouldn’t call and as the unusually loud ring made her racing heart leap out of her chest, her jittery hands lifted the receiver and she pressed it to her ear, five minutes later standing near the large oak tree in the park, her brow furrowed and her anxiety up a notch, (if it could get any higher than it already was) as his initial message had explicitly stated that all arrangements would be made via phone, so why did he want to meet her in person?
“Don’t turn around,” said a deep voice breaking her thought cloud and for the second time that day she almost flat-lined.
“Now, Mrs. Henderson, I usually don’t make direct contact but I have a feeling this entire situation may not go as planned…from your side and I don’t take on a contract in which I feel the person may have second thoughts later on,” he lied smoothly, as a vast section of his clients almost always felt an aftermath of regret and she was a textbook case of one who already exuded a mesh of fear, remorse and guilt.
“This is the phone number of the best divorce lawyer in town, I think your money would be best spent there.”
She kept waiting for him to speak again until she realized that she was once again alone, with the lawyer’s card left on the branch above her head and as she reached to grab it, for the first time since she’d seen her husband and his secretary together at the restaurant and abrupt rage had provoked her to take this drastic step, she was flooded with relief.
Back in his apartment Vincent poured himself some sparkling cider from the fridge and sighed, he was getting too soft.
Written for Six Sentence Stories
This week’s cue is CONTRACT