Two Sides Of A Coin

Heads: Being Marilyn Sally’s POV: “Are we there yet?” I asked the bald driver of the black limousine. “Soon,” he answered nonchalantly. “What have I gotten myself into?” I questioned myself, for the sixth time since the long drive had begun. I heaved a sigh as I adjusted my hair. Scratch that, I heaved a sigh as I adjusted the platinum blonde wig I was forced to wear. The blue eye contact I had, on top of my hazel brown eyes, was also among the things I was demanded to have on. For the night, I had on a rosewood red evening gown, paired up with heels expensive enough to pay off my four-year college tuition. The bracelets on my wrist, the miniature black purse and gown inclusive, all cost a fortune. I was completely dolled up to the max. My well-manicured fingernails fidgeted with the little permit card I had on my lap. I couldn’t believe that I would be attending one of the most grand and elite dinner parties ever hosted in Peteburg city. I read out the name on the permit card, which I now held in my sweaty palms. “Miss Marilyn Timberlake,” I read aloud with a little chuckle. That, of course, was not my name. My name was, in fact, Sally Jackson. But for tonight, I will be playing Marilyn Timberlake. Daughter of one of the richest business moguls in the west. I had long prepared myself for this day. Tonight was the night. It was hard for me to believe that I would be doing something as dangerous as what I intended to do today. I knew I’d be taking an unimaginable risk. However, I can’t blame myself. All I do, I do for my brother. I needed the money to save him. The doctors had told me he had at most two months to take out a brain tumor, or else I was going to lose him. And that was something I couldn’t bear to risk. Brrrrrrrrrrrrrrringggg! My phone rang and I jumped in my seat. “Pull yourself together, Sally,” I reprimanded, as my disoriented hands scavenged into my purse for my phone. I swallowed as I saw the caller ID, it was him. I hurriedly picked up the call. “Hello”, my quivering lips muttered, breaking the long eerie silence. “Hello Sally.” The voice on the other end greeted. “I hope you still remember what we agreed on?” “Yes. Yes, I do.” “And what was it we agreed on?” “Seduce him, lure him and take him down.” I responded as the knot in my tummy tightened. “Good girl. When you do just that, you will get double of how much I promised. How does that sound?” “That’s great, it sounds wonderful.” “Beautiful. I’ll leave you now to work. Good luck.” With that, the line went dead, leaving me to my thoughts. “Double of 5000 dollars? I’d be so stinking rich”. I reasoned, with adrenaline pumping excitement. I’d clear off my debts, I’d handle the hospital bills, move out of my dingy apartment and still have some money to spare. “We are here, Miss Marilyn.” The chauffeur’s lackluster voice interrupted my daydreaming. “Of course we are.” I muttered under my breath as the gigantic gateway automatically rolled away. Fear paralyzed me as I looked out my window. The caliber of people I sighted at the parking lot was enough to make me doubt the importance of my existence. “I can’t” I muttered almost in tears, knowing fully well that I couldn’t back down now. I had social anxiety. I hate public places and social interactions with people. How was I supposed to blend in here, play the main character and seduce a freaking billionaire? I began to pep talk myself. Take this like it’s a short script Sally, and you are the lead actor. And in this film, the world revolves around you. I knew I loved acting out movie roles and playing pretend while alone in my room. I’m talking cinematic masterpiece on a Netflix five-star standard. So yea, I can do this, I encouraged myself. I brought out my good luck coin and kissed it. “Let heads be Marilyn and tail be Sally.” If it landed on heads, I was assured of good luck, if tails then… I immediately threw the coin and it landed on my palms and I closed it. I slowly opened my hands and peeked in. “Heads,” I smiled, then put it back into my purse. Let’s do this. I got out of the car and walked to the entry point. The scary-looking security guard at the checkpoint requested I show my permit. I immediately lifted the card to his face. He took it and looked at it for a while, then took an uncomfortably long look at me. I could feel my heart beat vigorously inside my chest, threatening to burst out. “Could he see through my disguise?” I worried, as newly found confidence began to dwindle. “Oh my god, he probably has. Dear God, I’m so dead. How do I…” “Walk in, my lady.” His voice boomed as he lifted off the red stanchion for me to go in. The wide open space was an epitome of grandeur and splendor. It had the most sophisticated decor you’d ever see. The auditorium was already packed with the classiest and most polished individuals. Some were seated, some stood, drink in hand. Others stood in small groups having pleasant discussion and let out soft, demure laughs. Regardless of how tensed I was, I took a deep breath, pushed up my already revealing cleavage and adjusted my side slit. The crimson red lipstick I had on shimmered as I smacked my lips together. It’s showtime. I could feel all the eyes in the room fixated on me as I swayed my hips with each step. “Who is she?” I could hear a blonde lady whisper to her brunette friend. “Good heavens,” a man, old enough to be my father, exclaimed as I walked past him, and I smirked. My phone buzzed in my purse, destabilizing me from my well-practiced act. I walked over to a lone corner and picked up the call. “I presume you have gotten in by now.” “Yes I have,” I replied, beginning to feel tense once again. “Good, do you have eyes on the target?” “No, I haven’t seen him yet, I just got in.” “I know you just did.” “What? How did…?” I asked, perplexed. “That’s not for you to worry about. Find him, get him under your spell and do what you need to do.” “Yes sir,” I whispered. “By the way, you look really gorgeous in that dress and your entrance was excellent. Good luck, Marilyn.” The line went dead. Leaving my face pale in fear. How could he possibly know that? Maybe he was guessing. No, it sounded too real. Like a genuine compliment from someone who had actually laid his eyes on me. He was definitely there. And to be here, you had to be sent an invitation from the man hosting this event. This was the same man I was assigned to entice and lace his drink with poison that would knock him out for days or probably kill him. I looked left and right to see if I could spot anyone watching me. I almost laughed at how silly I was when I remembered that I had actually never seen the face of the person who sent me on this mission. I felt restless and tensed. I needed something to boost my confidence. I turned to the buffet table and requested a glass of wine. I stood there and gulped the whole drink down. Ignoring the burning feeling in my chest, I thrust the glass back at the server. “Can I have another glass?” “With pleasure,” he said before handing me my second serving. From my second to my third until I had my fourth glass in hand. “You drink a little too much. Don’t you think?” A rough, husky voice sounded from behind me. “Care to share how that concerns you.” I spat, with the fakest Irish ascent I could muster, still backing who made the comment. “For one, you’d get a little too tipsy and could ruin that beautiful dress of yours. I could go on and on, but I think you get the message.” “I am not bothered about that”, I sneered, knowing that the drink was slowly beginning to give me Dutch courage. “Touché, feisty much. How about you learn to talk a little more like the pretty lady you are?” “How about you learn to walk away from pretty ladies that drink too much?” I retorted, turning to face the now irritating voice. I gasped and almost collapsed from shock. Oh my goodness, it was him.