Unauthorized Affair (Unauthorized #1)(13)

Her mind marveled again at undercover. They wanted her to be an undercover officer. Almost like Sara. She couldn’t believe it. Her. Jen Mansko. Her mother would freak if she knew. But she wasn’t going to tell her mother. No way. She would tell Jerry and Sara, and that was it. Wouldn’t Jerry be —

The door at the end of the hall slammed open, bouncing off the back wall and startling her. A man walked in, looking up and down — everywhere but her. His eyes slid over the ceiling, the walls, the counter. He was tall and graying, with close-shaved hair and cold eyes. His face looked young - too young for graying hair, but hard. He wore a black leather jacket, jeans, and black cowboy boots and he carried a cardboard box under one arm. He looked dirty, and dangerous. She took a step back, but immediately pushed herself forward again. Her heart slammed against her chest. She knew this was just a test, but the man still scared her. He looked like a criminal. He pushed right up to the other side of the counter she was standing behind and pulled his upper half over it a bit, looking past her to the floor. Then he finally stood up straight and looked her in the eyes, dropping his box on the counter. “Hi sweet thing. I heard you buy stuff.” A sick smile slid onto his face, and suddenly she was reminded of every slimy criminal in every action movie she’d ever seen. It was almost like he was playing the part of the bad guy. And doing a good job.


“Yes,” she said, and heard the waver in her own small voice. She saw his smile widen at her obvious fear and timidity. Heat like a fever swept her body. She knew she was already failing the test. And it had barely begun. Defeat clawed at her insides. I wanted it so bad, she cried inside her mind and realized that Sgt. Foley hadn’t said if she’d still get to go to recruit class if she failed the test to be an undercover officer. She felt hot, hateful tears claw at her eyes, trying to form and spill. The walls of the room suddenly loomed too large and the horrible brown color pushed in on her. Disappointment flooded her, like she had already been shown the door.

“Ah, f*ck that. You couldn’t buy your own mother,” he said and gathered up his box, delight playing in his disgusting smile. He turned to go, and suddenly Sara’s face loomed in Jen’s mind. Jen heard her voice clearly in her head. He’s playing a part, Jen. You can too. Who’s your favorite bad-ass actress? Become her. This isn’t real. And even if it was, you could still fake it to make it. Jen couldn’t think of any bad-ass actress she liked, but she didn’t need to. She knew what bad-ass she wanted to be like. WWSD? What would Sara do? Sara would eat this jerkwater for breakfast, that’s what. She felt a coldness slip over her. It cooled the fever of her cheeks and eyes. She felt her mouth open and heard words drop out of it, like ice.

“Oh yeah?” She couldn’t quite bring herself to add * on to the end of it, although she wanted to very much. Instead, she grabbed the stack of bills under the counter and fanned it in front of her face. “Then where did I get all this change from?” Her innermost self, as if under a heavy blanket, cringed at the amateur jab, but it seemed to work. The man turned around, fixed his eyes on the money, and dropped the box back on the counter.

“OK, but you better not try to f*ck me over,” he snarled, and pulled his leather jacket back so she could see a gun shoved in the waistband of his jeans. Her eyes flicked to it, but she didn’t allow herself to linger on it. He had a gun. Did she expect anything less? Well, actually she hadn’t known what to expect, but she knew they were trying to shock and scare her. Don’t give in, you’re doing great, Sara said in her mind. “I wouldn't dream of it,” She told him, her voice strong and clear now.

She looked at the box, but instead he reached inside his jacket and pulled out what looked like a dirty bag of plastic. He slapped it on the counter. “What’ll you give me for it?”

She picked it up, although her eyes had already told her what it was. Marijuana. A lot. Not that she knew anything about how to price marijuana. She’d never even smoked it, afraid in high school that if she got caught she’d be kicked off the volleyball team. But she knew what it looked like. She had plenty of friends who had smoked it. She hefted it in her hand like she had a clue what she was doing.

“How much you want for it?”

He named his figure without hesitation. “$1200.”

Ahh, caught! she thought. She should have just made him an offer. But this was a test, and if she would have done that he would have countered in some other way. No matter what, she was going to be wrong. And the test was could she talk her way out of it?

She hefted the baggie in her hand again, then opened it and sniffed it. She dropped it back on the counter like she didn’t care if she got it or not. “I’ll give you $1000 even.”

The man’s gaze changed, but Jen couldn’t read it. Suspicion? Anger? He gathered up his baggie and put it back in his jacket. “I thought you weren’t going to f*ck me over,” he said in a low voice and turned to go once more. Panic exploded in Jen’s chest. She was supposed to buy it! But she only had $1000! She ran through her options as he took a step. She could promise him the rest of the money later. Another step. She thought about what was in her wallet. Maybe $60. Not enough. Another step. He was halfway to the door. She patted herself down. She wasn’t wearing any jewelry. An idea shot through her head and she prayed it was a good one.

“OK, OK, you got me,” she said, her voice pitched low so the panic wouldn’t leak out into it. He stopped, but didn’t turn. “I only have $1000. Just so we know there aren’t any hard feelings, how ‘bout I buy half, and you get $1000 for it.”