The beginning of the first chapter for you to rip apart. Thanks!
I was binge watching season three of Fargo when I got the call from my burner phone that hadn't rung in five months. I kept it behind a skull bookend inside a bookcase built into my apartment wall. If I pushed the bookcase, I imagined I would enter a secret passage that led down to a gothic nightclub.
I leaped off my sofa, took a running start, and slid across my shiny marble floor to the bookcase. I'd practiced my Risky Business slide for this day a thousand times. And I just so happened to be wearing an oversized pink oxford shirt with a pair of white cashmere socks.
"At your service," I said into the flip phone, my heart pounding.
"Verity," said the man on the other end. It was my manager Enoch.
"Speaking," I said.
"I apologize this call has taken so long. How are you?" His voice echoed. I heard splashes and voices echoing in the background. He was near an indoor swimming pool that could have been anywhere. I seldom knew his location when he called.
"Happy to be keeping up appearances." I ran my fingers through my long dark brown hair.
He chuckled. "How is the flower shop? Do you still like the location on Melrose?"
"Yes I do. We were recently voted best florist by LA Weekly." The flower shop gave me a fake job, and a way to file honest taxes. My real money stayed hidden in six offshore bank accounts.