So I have no idea where this is going, the main character doesnāt have a name (but his secretary does...go figure lol), and the story doesnāt have a title...but I kind of like it.Ā It has aĀ ānoirā tone to it in my head, though nothing else has come to me since the bit below popped into my head the other night out of nowhere.Ā Oh...and itās first person.Ā What the heck?Ā Why?Ā Iāve written first person before...for fanfic, already established characters, but for an original character?Ā Again...why?Ā Ā š¤¦āāļøš
She was gorgeous. Ā All creamy skin, silky auburn hair, and green eyes, with a figure and legs that could make a statue cry.
And she was in my office crying those big, fat tears that were intended to make me melt at the sight of them, but all they did was make my blood run cold.
She was trouble.
Trouble with a capital tee.
I was being set up.
I knew that.
So why didnāt I send her on her way?
Why did I tell Margret to get the lady a drink?
Ever hear the one about curiosity killing the cat?
Yeah.
Well, satisfaction brought it back.
Or so the rest of the saying goes.
Only time will tell if the first part of the saying, or the second, is true.
Because, as I sit here pretending to be taken in by her tears and sad sob story, I realize, this is far bigger than any case Iāve ever taken in all my years as a private investigator.
Thereās also something else I realize.
Whoever sent her to set me up is someone big.
The question isā¦
Who?