After I left her apartment, I headed straight to The Fox’s Den. Just nabbed my third client this month. Time for a celebratory drink.
The place was packed. I slithered up to the bar next to an attractive brunette reading the paper. Just my type.
“Buy you a drink?”
She turned and examined me.
“I won’t beat around the bush,” I said. “I typically get what I want.”
She smirked, rolling her dovelike eyes. “And what, exactly, do you want?”
I glanced at the headline: PREDATOR PROWLS THE STREETS OF NEW YORK. I flashed a menacing smile.
“Care to find out?”