Well that was fast.
I had lunch with my buddies, the Gossip Girls, on Friday. The following Monday, last Monday, I received an email from my client, the one that had been making booty calls across the street. She said she had a job for me but it was so complex it couldn't be described over the phone or through e-mail. We would have to meet.
That proved not to be true when we met the next day. The job was so simple Helen Keller could've figured it out with an e-mail. But then, that wasn't really why I had been summoned.
"So you live over in ------?" she said.
I had never told her that. She had obviously... heard.
Two days! And over a weekend at that. I have to say I was impressed.
"Why yes, I do" I answered innocently.
"What street do you live on?" she asked.
I told her.
"What's your address?"
I told her.
"That is SO funny" she lied. "I'm dating a guy who lives right across the street!"
She was in complete damage control mode.
It occurred to me I should probably express some surprise that she was no longer with her husband, but really what was the point?
I knew.
She knew I knew.
And I knew she knew I knew.
Besides, the word was she had deleted him as a Facebook friend weeks ago.
Now, in hindsight, I didn't realize what a risk I had taken. She very well could have written me off as a snitch and decided not to do business with me anymore. But my actions had revealed me to be something more than a snitch.
Now I was a source.
'What do you know about -----?" she asked, inquiring about the business dealings of one of my lunch companions.
