Sleeping With The Enemy

One

He was woken up
by the chimes of the alarm clock on the bedside table.

He rose from the
bed and stretched himself. He felt very good. He had had wonderful sleep. He
got out of bed and went to the bathroom to take a shower. Except for a book
that lay face down next to the bed, the room was very clean and orderly, a hint
that he was a meticulous and clean individual.

He was singing
while washing himself in the shower. Still singing cheerfully, he returned to
the bedroom to get dressed. After dousing himself with Armani’s eau pour homme
cologne, he got dressed in black pants, a black polo-neck and a brown leather
jacket before leaving his apartment and going to a trendy café at the corner of
Madison Avenue to get something to eat.

* *
* * *

He was waiting
for his order when he turned around, still standing at the counter, and saw a
pretty woman reading a book. He stared at her long enough for his gaze to make
its magic chemistry into her psyche. She looked up and their eyes met.

She was a lovely
woman with dark hair and wonderful bluish eyes. Even though she was sitting
down, she looked like she was of average height. She was dressed in a navy-blue
pant-suit and black high heeled shoes.

Something
extraordinary passed between them during that moment, such that he felt like he
was revolving in space and there were only the two of them there. He smiled at
her.

She smiled back.

He was brought back
to earth by the waitress bringing his order. He took the food and made an
impetuous decision to talk to the woman who had stolen his heart just by
looking at him.

He walked
towards the pretty lady and stopped by her table. ‘What’re you reading?’

She lifted her
book and showed him the cover:
Far From The Madding Crowd
by Thomas
Hardy.

‘Thomas Hardy,’
he said. ‘He’s good.’

She nodded her
head with a smile and went back to her reading.

He walked away. When
he was outside, waiting to cross the road, on his way back to his apartment, he
stole a glance back through the window and caught her watching him. He waved at
her.

She raised her hand
reluctantly and waved back at him.

He crossed the
street and walked back to his apartment.

Two

Rosina arrived
at the apartment she shared with her sister.

Her sister was
standing before a huge LED TV, marveling at it. ‘What do you think?’ she asked
when she saw Rosina.

‘Too big.’

‘Oh don’t be a
spoil-sport,’ her sister protested. ‘I will enjoy watching you with this thing.
My beloved sister, you gotta appreciate art.’

‘This is not art,’
said Rosina. ‘It’s madness.’

She went into
her bedroom, fetched her laptop and returned with it to the living room. She
shoved it into its carry bag and slung it onto her shoulder. She kissed her
sister on the left cheek ‘Gotta get to work. Bye.’

‘I’ll be here watching
you, and when you return I’ll still be here watching TV.’

Rosina shook her
head in disapproval. ‘You need to get out more often.’

‘Look who’s talking.’

They both
laughed as Rosina walked out of the room.

Three

He was at his
apartment reading a book. His mind trailed off and he thought about that
episode in the café. The picture of her sitting down at the table with her head
bent down reading a book, looking like the most beautiful creature he had ever
seen, just sprang to his mind and he couldn’t shake it off. He thought it funny
that a stranger he had no chance of ever meeting again had got him feeling so
strongly about her.

Four

At precisely
that moment, she was also thinking about him – more appropriately, about that
episode in the café, when a stranger had walked up to her, wearing
beautifully-tailored clothes and the most dazzling smile she had ever seen on a
man, had come to her and greeted her.

 A horn blasted
from behind her and awakened her from her reverie. The traffic light had turned
green. She stepped on the gas and sped towards the studios.

She arrived at
the network studios late and made it to the news desk with just six seconds to
go. Professional that she was, she calmed herself down, such that when the studio
went live she was smiling broadly at the camera and giving the news to America
in the usual manner.

The news reading
over, her producer scolded her heatedly for arriving late.  Rosina lashed back
hotly, standing her ground to the man who thought he owned her.

Five

The following
morning she was at the café, busy on her laptop, when he entered.

He was wearing a
long black coat, a white shirt, a red tie and gray pants. He looked handsome and
imposing. He went to the counter to order his takeaway. He looked round the
café and saw her, hunched over her laptop, a fierce expression of concentration
on her face. His order came inside a khaki paper bag. He took it and went over
to the pretty woman.

‘Hello.’

She looked up and
feigned surprise. ‘Hi.’

He handed her a
hardcover book. ‘Charles Dickens.’ It was
Great Expectations
. ‘I thought
you’d like it.’

She accepted it.
‘Thank you.’

He began to walk
away, then paused, turned back to wave at her and just then caught a glimpse of
light flashing on her computer screen. He half turned towards the window and
saw a machine-gun peeking out of a car with tinted windows. His heart racing,
he leapt up towards her and shielded her body as they fell onto the floor, the table
and chair also falling in an upturned mess.

Torrential
gunfire rained all over the café. People scurried around the café to hide
themselves. It was over in ten seconds. The car sped away.

‘What was that?’
she asked with a frightened face.

‘I’m not sure,’
he replied evasively, getting up and helping her to her feet.

She touched her
face and noticed a trickle of blood. ‘Oh God! Please tell me it’s not big.’

‘No, just a
laceration,’ he said with a consoling smile.

They heard
police sirens.

‘I’ve gotta get
out here.’ She picked up her laptop. ‘It’s destroyed.’

He took it from
her, picked up the things that had spilled from her purse and returned them
into it. He said to her, ‘My place is not far from here. You can come up and
clean yourself.’

‘I don’t know—.’

‘It won’t take
long, com’ on,’ he urged decisively and took her by the arm as they hurried
out.

* *
* * *

He lived in an
open-plan-living apartment, with the living room and bedroom separated only by
a big ceiling-to-floor bookshelf in front of the bed. She looked around the
place apprehensively.

He handed her
the purse and said, ‘Bathroom’s over there.’

‘Thank you.’ She
went and shut herself inside the bathroom, cleaning the blood and dirt off her face.
To her horror, she discovered that there were things missing from her purse.
She covered her face in her hands. ‘Oh Jesus, this is just great.’

He was making
coffee when her head popped out of the bathroom door. ‘Um…this is very embarrassing…’
She looked down and then back up again. ‘I’m missing some tampons…they must’ve fallen
out of my purse…’

‘Okay, okay,
never mind. I won’t be five minutes.’

* *
* * *

He was passing
by the scene of the crime when he saw a book lying face down at a distance. He
went closer, looked around furtively like a thief and picked it up. Then he
went to the pharmacy and picked up a pack of sanitary pads. He went to the
counter to pay for it.

‘I hope the
lucky sister appreciates having a man like you,’ said the Black cashier at the
counter.

‘Yeah, I hope
she does.’

She handed him
his change. ‘Thank you…and good luck.’

He frowned at
her. ‘Why do you wish me luck?’

She smiled
mysteriously. ‘Good luck on your path of love.’

He shook his head.
‘No, keep the change.’

He left the pharmacy
and walked outside towards his place. He had not walked far when he noticed that
someone was following him. He concentrated his attention at the line of shops
on Fifth Avenue and pretended to be window-shopping until he was certain that
he had a tail. He went into a men’s boutique and took off something from the rakes.
He went into one of the fitting rooms and noticed his tail following him into
the shop.

Patiently, he waited
in the fitting room, leaving his door open and expecting his tail to appear any
time soon. He placed the pack of pads on a holder inside the fitting room and
then went to the entrance to the dressing rooms, hiding himself from view. When
his tail came shortly afterwards, he shot his right hand out and struck the man
at the back of the neck, but his blow didn’t connect as hard as he had
intended. The man turned back with amazing alacrity and hit back at him. He was
kicked in the left knee and winced with the pain. He was getting to understand
that his opponent was fast when the man dealt him another bruising blow on the
temple.

He reeled back
but had the presence of mind to kick out at the man’s crotch. Self-preservation
came quickly to his opponent and the man blocked his family jewels with both
his hands, leaving his face open for the taking. Two powerful jabs at his nose and
chin sent him reeling backwards onto the floor, where he lay groaning in pain and
grabbing his bloody nose.

He grabbed the whimpering
man, rolled him around onto his belly and held his right hand in an arm twist.

‘Who sent you?’
he whispered in the man’s ear.

‘Fuck off!’ the
man cursed through gritted teeth.

He snapped broke
the man’s little finger and the man hollered in pain. Intently, he went for the
second finger in line and held it at the ready for snapping. ‘Who sent you?’

‘Boss Cambiaso,’
the man answered with a painful grimace.

‘Tell Cambiaso I
did not kill his brother—.’

‘It was your
operation,’ the man said with a wince of pain.

‘It was my
operation, but I did not give the order.’

The man nodded.

‘And lay off my
back.’

He released the
man’s hand and went into the fitting room where he had left the pack of pads.
He smoothed down his clothes, looked himself in the mirror and picked up his
pack of pads. As he left the fitting rooms, he saw a young sales rep who was
about to come in and investigate the commotion of a few moments go. He quickly
grabbed a hat from a rack close by and said sternly at the boy, ‘How much?’

‘$360, sir.’

‘I’ll take it,’
he said, beaming a wide smile at the boy.

* *
* * *

‘Five minutes?’
she asked indignantly when she saw him enter into the apartment. She was
sitting on the only couch in the place.

He threw her the
pack. ‘Sorry, got delayed by some business I had to take care of.’

She went into
the bathroom and shut herself inside for a while.

He sat down on
the couch and foraged inside her purse. He found a business card with her name
on it: Rosina Ameliano, News Anchor, Channel 5 News. He pocketed it in his
jacket.

Moments later,
her heard the sounds of her returning from the bathroom and stood up. He stood
with his hands clasped behind his back and watched her as she silently came and
picked up her hand-bag and walked off towards the door.

He rushed to
open it for her. She got out and paused. ‘Thank you for your help…in
everything.’