Page 11 of Ruin

“I…wasn’t aware,” I said as I closed my laptop and took a long sip of my espresso, trying my best to act nonchalant.

“Where are you from?” she questioned with a smile as she crossed her arms below her breasts.

I could tell she was sizing me up. She was obviously enjoying our run-in.

I replied with a smile, “New York City.”

I tried my hardest to be polite, despite being face-to-face with the woman who was responsible for our plummeting sales last year, and this year…and the subsequent budget constraints. This bitch is the entire reason I haven’t received a raise or bonus in two years. She had been picking off our accounts one by one like a stealthy predator.

I sell one new account, and she takes two existing accounts.

“Native?” she questioned, her eyes squinting from behind her glasses as she baited me.

“Long Island.” I nodded back.

“Ah. See. I knew it.” She laughed gently as she raised her hand, motioning for the staff. “Hola. Can I get an espresso, please, a little milk if you have it? I like mine creamy…” she said with a wink at the blushing young man who was taking her order.

“And another for my friend here. She needs it. Perk her up a bit,” she said with another wink in my direction.

She dropped her head to look at me from above her glasses, uncrossing her arms and resting them gently on the table between us.

“Listen. I am not here to make enemies. I expect to see my competitors in the field. That is life.” She paused, offering me a reassuring smile. “But you, Miss Long Island, you shouldn’t be surprised to see me here. I am your competition, and this is our prize,” she said as she raised her arms above her head and scanned the room with her eyes.

“I expect more of a fight from a New Yorker. Even one from Long Island.”

“And where are you from?” I questioned, unable to stop my face from grimacing.

“Miami,” she replied with a smile, overemphasizing a y in the middle of Miami and showcasing her thick accent.

I nodded and took another sip of my espresso. The last sip, to be exact.

“I am surprised you’ve come here by yourself, Long Island,” she said as the waiter set fresh drinks between us.

“Why is that?” I said with a frown as I handed my empty cup back to the waiter.

Her eyes widened as she leaned in toward me. “Oh. You don’t know about what happened here?” she whispered.

I blinked at her, raising my eyebrows in confusion.

“Honey. Two young women…Americans, just like us. They went missing around six months ago,” she said, leaning back into her chair once more as she blew on the scorching espresso that was clutched between her manicured hands.

What the fuck?

I sat in disbelief; my face riddled with confusion.

Was she trying to scare me off?

She leaned in again, her eyes gleaming with excitement from the juicy news she just slammed in my face. “You googled this place, right? Let me tell you…they must have some surprisingly good PR dollars because I didn’t see anything about it till I was like five pages deep on Google.”

I sat quietly, sipping and feeling grateful to be returning home. Even if what she was saying was true, I was leaving.

“Wait, why do you have a suitcase?” she questioned as she tapped my bag with the tip of her stiletto.

“I’m going home today.” I shrugged as my eyes glanced around the beautiful room, just as elegant in the daylight as it was the prior evening.

Jennifer smiled, her attention turning to her espresso as she spoke. “Did you at least put in the work? Give me a run for my money?”

I looked down at my own espresso, quickly remembering how badly I managed to botch this opportunity.