NINETEEN
June 3 4:02 p.m.Amanda pulled into the parking lot looking all around for a guy with his arm in a sling. She parked and walked inside, scanning the tables. She saw the sling as Mason stood at a table in the back of the coffee shop. The guy was muscular and had to be six foot five. She walked over to his table and sat down across from the unknown figure with dark hair, a moustache, and a stern countenance that featured deep set eyes.
“Do you want coffee?” he asked, those eyes apparently assessing her.
“No. Who are you and what do you want?”
“Good, I’m not much for small talk either. Let’s get to it.”
“First, who are you and who do you represent?”
“Doesn’t matter who I am, I’m just a messenger. It’s who I represent that matters and they are some very powerful people.”
Amanda
