. . .

I am woman

When we were done. "Mind if I smoke?" She lit up without waiting for a response.

"Yes, actually, I do."

"Tough shit. I gave you what you wanted. Least you can do is allow me a cig."

"I'll allow you anything you want. I'm gone."

"Fuck you."

"I'll see you around."

She was at the restaurant, a week after. "Hey."

"Hey."

"I never got your name."

"Why do you care? Looking for a rematch?"

"Yeah."

"I'm off in half an hour."

And then, the next week. "You know, we really have to stop meeting like this."

"Don't get cute."

"Sorry. You free?"

"Nope. Workin' late, and I got a guy comin' in after. Tomorrow?"

"Sure."

"What _is_ your name?"

"What's yours?"

"I don't have one."

"Huh?"

"Forget it."

"Whatever." She lit up again. We'd done arguing about it. I started gathering my clothes. "...Denise."

"Pleased to meet you."

"Likewise, Nowhere Man."

I couldn't show up for a couple weeks. She wasn't in the next time I dropped by. Was the time after, though. "How goes?"

She looked at me with her dead eyes. "You think anything changes around here?"

"Just trying to make small talk."

"I'm not in the mood."

"For small talk?"

"For anything, Nowhere Man. Come back next week, we'll see."

"That was something."

"Who are you?"

"Don't ask."

"You a politician, or something? You a spook? What?"

"Don't ask."

"You got me curious, now."

"I could tell you, but then I'd have to kill you."

"...you're a strange guy, Nowhere."

"I don't get you. You're a smart girl. Why you still working at the diner?"

"A woman's gotta eat."

"Why don't you make something of yourself?"

"Get out."

"What?"

"Get fucking out. You come into my home, tell me nothing about yourself, and you think you have the right to fucking critique my lifestyle?"

"Are we back to that again?"

"Get out."

"Don."

"All right."

"So?"

"Not yet. What do you do?"

"I wasn't kidding. I would have to kill you."

"Would you want to?"

"...no."

"Then don't. Just tell me."

"I can't."

"If I told you anything, it would have to be a lie. For your own safety."

"You could've just lied to me. I wouldn't have known."

"I couldn't do that to you."

"Why not?"

"Because I think I love you."

Silence.

"Denise?"

"That's rich. That's really rich." She gave a short bark of a laugh.

"I'm not joking."

"I know. That's what's so funny."

"I mean it."

"I know you do, Don."

"What would you do if I asked you to marry me?"

"I'd probably laugh at you."

"Oh."

"Marry me."

"I can't, Don."

"You married? You engaged? You got a boyfriend? What?"

"I don't know enough about you. I know your name. That isn't enough."

"I..."

"You tell me who you are, you tell me what you do, and we'll talk. Until then, I don't want to see you any more."

"Denise..."

"You ready to talk?"

"Yeah. Let's go to your place. Now."

"All right."

"I... My name is Don Fader."

"And?"

"I'm... I'm a hitman. A paid assassin. I kill people for money. That what you wanted to hear? You happy now?"

"That's what I wanted to hear, Don." The door burst open and I felt the handcuffs go on. "You have the right to remain silent, anything you say can and will be used against you in..."

"Denise?"

There were tears in her eyes as they led me out.