Chapter Three
"Honey, I'm home," I shout as I close the front door behind me.
A few seconds later, Lori appears. "How many times do I need to tell you? Stop calling me honey, you're going to blow my cover." Lori has been working for the agency for a little over five years. Within hours of first meeting, we became best friends as well as roommates. Her heart may be full of gold but her mind is full of filth. I blame it on her obsession with romance novels. She has zero interest in men unless they’re fictional. She once told me that book boyfriends were God's way of apologizing for men in real life. She winks at me. "So, how was it?"
"Like taking candy from a baby."
"That's my girl." She looks at her watch. "Just under two hours, we have a new record."
When I first started working for the agency, a trap would usually take me around four hours. Now that I know the tricks of the trade, that number has halved. I hold up the pizza that I grabbed on my way home. "I've bought celebratory pizza. Let's get fat, drink wine, and watch The Bachelor."
"See, this right here is why I believe in fate. We belong together."
"Are you talking about you and me or the pizza?"
"Of course I'm talking about the pizza." She takes the box off of me and leads me into the living room.
I sit down before taking off my five inch heels. "Oh, that feels so good."
"If you think that feels good, wait until you take off your bra.”
"I'm not wearing one."
"Ah ha! So that's your secret weapon? I'll have to try it next time." She takes a big bite of pizza. "So yu no wurnex tap his?"
"I have no idea what you just said." She rolls her eyes and begins to chew faster. "You do know that you could just wait until after you finish eating before asking me a question, don't you?"
"And waste precious reading time later on? No thanks. I said do you know when your next trap is?"
"Nope, I'm swinging by the office tomorrow."
"Well fingers crossed you get somebody young and hot this time."
"Your fingers have been crossed for a very long time." My last ten traps have been with older men. And by older men, I don't just mean a few years older than me. The youngest was double my age at forty eight. It doesn't bother me as they are usually the easiest to trap. Most of them can't believe that somebody my age would actually be interested in them. "As long as I get paid, I don't care how old they are."
"Yeah but surely you'd rather flirt with a young handsome guy than an old wrinkly one?"
"A cheater is a cheater. Plus, the handsome ones are usually the most arrogant."
"When you've been doing this job for as long as I have, you learn to make compromises. I don't mind a bit of arrogance if it's wrapped up in a pretty little package."
I shrug. "You know I don't care about that kind of stuff."
"I know, I know, you're doing it for the greater good. Justice, feminism, world peace. Yada, yada, yada."
I started working for the agency two years ago after I graduated from college. It turns out that while I was busy busting my balls in a different city, my ex-boyfriend was balls deep in another woman. On the last day of the semester, I decided to surprise him by going home a few days earlier than planned. I think it's safe to say that we were both surprised when I walked in on him fucking somebody else. I spent a whole week wallowing in self pity until I woke up one morning with a clear head and knew what needed to be done.
I needed to chop off his dick.
But since I've never been cut out for prison, I settled on pinning up hundreds of posters around our neighborhood. It had a photograph of him accompanied by the following -
MISSING: Scott Parker's respect for women.
If found, please shove it up his lying, cheating, good for nothing ass.
$1,000,000 reward.
The search is still on.
I also posted flyers in our neighbors mailboxes. This time I was feeling quite creative so I Photoshopped his face onto a cheetahs body.
WARNING: Cheater on the loose.
Approach with extreme caution.
Lock up your daughters.
What can I say? He deserved it.
A few weeks later, I started working for the agency. Never underestimate the power of a broken heart and a stupid amount of college debt.
To begin with, I was on a huge revenge rampage but once the hurt and anger wore off, I quickly realized that a woman's happiness should never depend on little boys like Scott Parker. From that moment on, my outlook changed and my focus shifted. The job became less about the men and more about the women who they didn't deserve. Now I do my job for three reasons and three reasons only.
1. I'm good at it.
2. It pays well.
3. Girl power.