Sally the Happy Squirrel

She gazed out of the window at the city below, tapping her fingers impatiently on the glass as she waited  for the phone to ring. Even in the darkness the city was beautiful, sparkling and shimmering at her feet... 

Her boss had told her to take the money and run. And you know what? She thought about it. She really did. I mean, wouldn’t you? Twenty five large ones, just sitting in a neat briefcase which you happened to find lodged behind a couple of brooms on the stairs. At first you think nothing of it. So someone forgot their briefcase. So what? But then, you check inside. Just in case you know, there’s a business card or whatever and you can return it to this mysterious stranger.

Turns out this mysterious stranger rolls like Rockefeller and pays in cash.

So what do you do? You take the money. You find the nearest hotel room and call Ivan, your slightly psychotic but generally nice boss and tell him you found some serious cheese.

“How serious?”

“It’s hard to say” she eyes the open suitcase bulging with notes. “Maybe twenty? Maybe thirty?”

“Count it, I’ll call you back in an hour.”

She starts counting. Images of the Maldives start swimming through her head. Maybe she shouldn’t have told Ivan? Just taken the whole lot and split.

There’s a knock on the door.

“Your dinner Miss.”

She doesn’t remember ordering anything but then again, maybe it’s part of the hotel service? She’s never had clients in this one before.

She strides over to the door and peeps through the hole. Black.

Suddenly, there’s a grunt and the door is getting kicked in. She goes flying and lands hard, the floor tearing her deep purple dress to reveal beautiful black lace and a gorgeous neglige underneath.

She yelps and scrambles to get up whilst the figure glides in and carefully closes the door behind her.

“It’s OK. I’m here to help.”

She eyes the man suspiciously. Tall, he stands over her extending a hand, a wry smile playing on his lips. “I’m Rupert.”

She takes his hand slowly and lets him pull her up. She comes up to just under his chin.

“Don’t believe anything Ivan tells you. He’s on his way over here right now to take the money and run. Trust me, I know him. We need to get out of here before it’s too late.”

The phone rings.

“Don’t answer that.”

What would you do?

“I’m serious Clarice, we need to hot foot it. Here take my coat.” He takes off his parker and hands it to her so she can cover her ripped dress. She takes the coat and they share a moment. His eyes are soft. They beckon her into a mysterious feeling she has never felt before.

Clarice looks from him, to the suitcase to the phone. A street lamp flickers outside and there’s the distant sound of sirens somewhere.

She picks up the briefcase. “Let’s go.”

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The truth is, I’m not a good person. I make bad decisions. I lie, I cheat and I hope to get away with it. I put myself first, my fragile ego, my broken dreams ooze out of every sentence I say and I tr