“I don’t like women, sir,” the waiter said as he filled the water goblet. “I don’t have to worry about that.”
“Fair ‘nough.” Sitting down at the table, the man who called himself Sawyer took a sip from his water glass. It was cool and soothed the rawness in his throat from the shouting match he’d had that morning with Gloria. She’d gotten it in her head that he was at her beck and call. Silly woman didn’t realize she was just a port of call on the conman’s trail through New Mexico.
He ran his fingertip carefully over the cut along his chiseled jaw from the ashtray she’d thrown at him. He just hoped his marks didn’t notice, but he was sure they were dazzled by enough riches to ignore his ‘shaving accident.’
“Mr. Sawyer,” he looked up just in time to see Mr. and Mrs. Whatever. Sawyer didn’t care what their names were; they were just the latest to fall for his standard con. All he cared about was the silver attaché case Mr. Loser was carrying that would be filled with $125,000. “Sorry we’re late. Had a little trouble at the bank.”
“Don’t pay it no never mind,” he drawled, holding out Mrs. Loser’s chair. Sawyer remembered her name. He’d had to learn it while he slept with her. He’d repeated it over and over again, so that Melissa thought she was all that and more. Women were so easy. All he had to do was dazzle them and sooner or later they’d be conning their hubbies into buying into his scam. “I got here a little late myself.”
“Sawyer!” Gloria’s shriek shattered the polite conversation of the restaurant. Every head turned towards the red head as she stomped through the dining room. “Is this your whore! The one you’ve been cheating on me with?”
James "Sawyer" Ford
344 Words for writers_muses
Before the crash....
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