This is From Matilda.

Chapter seven - citrus deals

Questions, questions. What questions do I have?

The ones that have been burning my brain for weeks, don't seem to want to surface. They've been dragged down to the bottom, and the deeper I go to pull them out, the more it strains and hurts.

I lightly closed my eyes. Breathed in slowly through my nose, citrus and soft scents caressing me.

Let's start small.

I cleared my throat.

"Why me?"

The question rang in my ears. The raw anger and sadness connected with the words resonated through me. Though, he didn't seem to notice. Or at least didn't acknowledge the fragile mess that I was.

"Coincidence. I was looking for a long time for someone like you. A thief."

I shook my head slightly to myself, and the grip on my mug involuntarily tightened. So fate really wasn't on my side. I racked my memories, for the cruelties I carried out to deserve all that has happened to me. I quickly stopped, when I realised that my employment doesn't exactly entitle me to a score of positive karma points. I really was just a...thief.

"But...why?"

He ran an empty hand through his hair, with an embarrassed laugh on his lips. "I'm not really sure to be perfectly honest. Desperation?"

my eyes darted in his direction, eyebrows quirked in disbelief. He sighed.

"Ok. I'll try and explain this to you, without the torture of listening to my life story."

He took a long sip of his tea before continuing.

"Long story short, I've wanted to be a writer all my life. And I need to write a book, a breakthrough, exciting, real story. I want a life worth living; and quite frankly, working in a publishing office is quite soul destroying. Seeing all these books being published when..."

His head was hung over his mug, like mine was a few moments ago. He peered a me, cautiously, as if he were ashamed.

"God that sounds so much more stupid when I say it out loud."

His mug was on the floor now, and his face in his hands. As if he was trying to rub away the anguish.

"You ruined my life, for a story?" My voice was surprisingly void of anger, considering the churning I felt inside.

I stared at him, for what felt like minutes, before he suddenly sprang up.

"Look. I just need you to go along with this for a while. After, I'll give you double the money that's in that bag, and leave you alone for the rest of your life."

His sudden movement and speech left me stunned. He opened his mouth and started mumbling something else, but it was all too much information at once.

"Hey!"

He stopped and stared at me. My heart picked up suddenly.

Just breathe in the lemon.

"I don't really have a choice in what I can or can't do, can I?" Although this was scarily true for my part, seeing him in an equally horrendous state of distress as I was in made me feel as though I had more power in this situation than I initially thought. He clearly had no idea what he was doing. He's finally run out of moves in his master plan.

"So can you please explain exactly what I have to do and for how long, because I'd like to go home now."

He inclined his head forward slightly, which I took as a nod, but his gaze was still fixed on me.

"I can go home, right?"

This seemed to snap him out of his trance. "Yes, of course. As long as you remember, I have a lot of information regarding you and your...colleagues. As well as the money."

I nodded my head, but rolled my eyes at his returned confidence.

"So, what do I have to do?"

*

I found out, that he wanted to interview me a certain amount of times, until he gained "sufficient information" regarding the life of a thief; he also wanted to observe me 'working'. It was finally explained why he was going to all these lengths in the first place too.
He wanted to base his novel on something real, and it seemed that his best idea was capturing a thief.

"So, is everything settled? You'll do everything?"

Of course I would say yes, but I decided to push the boundaries.

"Yes, but I want five times the money" His eyes widened at this.

"And I want all the evidence connected to me burned after this is done."

"What gives you leverage to demand all this?" He questioned.

"Maybe because you ambushed me, and turned my life into a complete and utter shitstorm?"

"Well. You are a thief."

"Who you are using, and essentially helping."

"Back with the sass are we?"

"Back with being a prat, are we?"

He sighed, "three times the money, plus a little bit."

I was expecting lower, so I didn't challenge this aspect of the deal.

"Ok."

He looked slightly relieved, as though he thought I was going to demand more.

When I made no further demands, he stretched his hand out for me to shake. My hand trembled slightly, as I pulled it out of my pocket to meet his, all my concentration focused on not flinching. Our palms met, and our fingers wrapped round each others hands. My whole body tensed, remembering who this person was, the distress that he caused me. Obviously sensing my extreme discomfort, he let go quickly.

"So, I'll meet you at the agreed location, at noon in a few days."

I replied yes, whilst standing up. He led me to the front door, but handed me something before I reached for the handle.

"I know you can't go home empty handed, so I'll give you a little bit of what you...earned."

He slid an envelope into my hands.

"There's about eighty in there."

I slid it into my deep coat pocket. "Thanks" I mumbled.

He cleared his throat. "And Matilda?"

I Whipped my head in his direction, my heart picking up and erratic thrum. He hadn't said my name out loud until now. It felt uncomfortable, as if we were now officially acquaintances.

"If you're too late for our next meeting, I'm afraid I'll just have to assume the worst. And you know what will happen next." He said it almost apologetically.

I nodded once, before slipping out the door into the cool evening.