My First

I’ll never forget the day I first saw him. He had green eyes that sparkled like emeralds against his porcelain skin. His windswept hair was a light brown with streaks of caramel that made my mouth water. The tilt of his mouth as he spoke, showed the confidence of a man who had overcome everything life had thrown at him without batting an eyelash. My heart thrilled, as my palms grew sweaty. It was him. The first man I would ever kill.

I double-checked the photograph on my phone to make sure, though there wasn’t a doubt in my mind. I had been looking at his photo for the last week as I made my plans. I sat in my car across the street biding my time and inspecting the location to make sure I wouldn’t be caught on any surveillance cameras. It wasn’t necessary, if everything went to plan no one would have any clue that it was murder. Even if they did figure it out it would be impossible to trace it back to me. But still, it was best practices, or so I had been taught.

I could see through the glass of the restaurant that he and his fellow stuffed shirts were beginning to wrap up their meeting so I grabbed my purse and jumped out of the car to make sure I was in position. As it was I could have waited a moment or two more in the warmth of my car as they all stood around in a circle of mutual admiration, boasting about God only knew what. But the cold was good. The excuse for gloves saved a lot of time.

As predicted, he was texting while walking as he exited the building so I positioned myself behind the pillar careful to keep my gaze averted from the ATM camera across the street. As his shadow crossed the third line in the cement I moved quickly into his path and we collided. I let my purse fall to the ground as I pushed down on his satchel to make sure it fell as well so he would have to stop.

‘Hey! Watch where you’re going…’ The words died on his lips as he took in my appearance. A quick look through his browsing history made it clear that busty blondes were his type. The wig I didn’t mind, but the push-up bra and added padding were digging into my ribs. The skintight red dress that was showing beneath my coat and three-inch heels also wasn’t my idea of comfortable but hey everyone had to dress differently for work. And it was clearly having the desired effect. ‘I’m so sorry, are you okay?’

‘Yes I’m fine. I should be sorry, not you. I wasn’t looking where I was going.’ The sickly sweet tone of my voice grated against my nerves but his eyes widened further in appreciation and he bent to pick up my purse for me. Men were so easy. While he focused on my scattered items, I picked up his bag, quickly swapping the epi-pen he kept in the outside pocket of his bag for the one I created. They were identical except that mine didn’t have enough of the drug to work.

‘Please, it was definitely my fault. I should buy you a cup of coffee or something to apologize.’ He spoke softly flashing his toothy grin. I had to admit, he was charming when he wanted to be. I guess that was the problem.

‘I’m actually running late for a meeting. But here, take these.’ I offered him the clear plastic sample bag of chocolate brownies from my purse. ‘My phone number’s on the label, I make them.’

‘Wish I could, but I’m allergic to nuts.’ I resisted the urge to say, I know.

‘Actually, they’re nut-free. See.’ I pointed out the fine lettering using the excuse to move closer so he would think I was flirting. ‘Does not contain traces of nuts.’

‘How serendipitous.’ He smiled at me. I smiled back, thinking of the hours I spent crafting the label so that when he untied the string it would release a small amount of acetone that would dissolve only the top layer of ink revealing the real label underneath. If anyone actually bothered to follow up with the bakery they would explain that all of their products contained traces of nuts. There was only one part of my plan I was worried about. ‘So I’ll call you later.’

‘You have to try the brownies first.’ I batted my eyelids and flashed him my best smile. If he called the number on the label first it would show in his caller ID. When the police followed up they would find out it was a burner phone and if anyone was suspicious it could raise questions. But I was pretty sure he’d eat them first if I played my cards right. ‘If you can guess the secret ingredient, I’ll even go you one better, and instead of buying me a cup of coffee you can buy me a real drink.’

‘I can’t wait.’ I could tell from his expression he thought he’d won the lottery. I began to wander away, keeping up the pretense of being in a rush. But before I rounded the corner I couldn’t resist a quick glance back at him, knowing I was already clear of the last camera.

I was warned I might feel remorse, or sadness, maybe even shame. But all I felt was alive. This man would die and no one would know it was me. The photo of him in the courthouse, smirking like a cat that got the cream was the reason I choose him as my first. No bribed judged or paid-off cop could help him now. And I felt pride knowing he would never hurt anyone again.

I looped around the block and back to my car to drive to my hotel. Sure it was only my first week. And yes I didn’t love the clothes I had to wear sometimes. But the hours were great and the work was fun. Maybe I’d finally found my calling.