50 Shades of Brown

Q woke up with an uneasy feeling that morning. She’s not one to worry, so waking up feeling as if her world was coming to an end was cause for concern. She tried to dismiss the feeling, but it just lingered on. As a result, she woke up earlier than usual. She wanted to call her mother and find out if everyone was fine back home. She picked up the phone, but put it back down when she noted the time displayed on the screen. She didn’t want to wake up her mom for nothing. She swung her legs off the bed and sat there for a moment, trying to think back to the previous day. What could have happened that gave rise to this anxiety? Her mind drew a blank. As far as she was concerned, she had no reason to worry.

By the time she left home, dressed in her favourite Zara yellow tight-fighting suit and powder blue peep toe Prada heels, the feeling had disappeared. She even forgot about it. But it returned when she got to work and found a man she didn’t recognise, wearing an ill-fitting suit waiting for her. He was an average man, nothing memorable about him. Nothing at all. He was of average height and average weight; he had brown hair and brown eyes. He wore a three-piece brown suit with a khaki shirt and a striped tie with different shades of brown. Q knew there was no way he could be from her past and there was no way he was in the entertainment industry. So who is he and what does he want, she wondered. He sat at the waiting area outside her office.

‘May I help you?’ she asked, opening the door to her office. She switched the lights on and placed her Louis Vuitton handbag inside her cabinet. She’d owned it for little over a year. She’d received it as a gift from her friends on her birthday. There was no way she could afford one on her salary.

The man followed her inside her office and closed the door behind them.

The uneasiness grew. ‘May I offer you something to drink?’

The man shook his head. ‘I’m not gonna be long,’ he said. ‘My name is Agent Forster from the Hawks.’

Q raised an eyebrow. She wondered what the Hawks wanted with her.

‘I heard that you were asking about Steve Pule,’ he said.

She wasn’t sure whether to be honest with him or lie. After all, it was illegal to do a background check on someone, especially when you were not part of law enforcement.

‘How do you know him?’

‘He’s my friend’s boyfriend,’ she said.

He noted this on his tiny notebook. ‘Does this friend have a name?’

‘Why are you asking this? Is he in trouble?’

He was silent for a moment. He was considering how much to tell her, Q could tell.

‘Steve is involved with very unsavoury people,’ he said.

‘That’s it? That’s the reason you came to my office so early in the morning? Come on, detective, I’m not dumb.’

‘Agent.’

‘What?’

‘Agent not detective.’

Q rolled her eyes. ‘Just tell me what’s going on. I don’t want my friend to get mixed up in whatever Steve’s been up to. She’s an innocent bystander.’

‘What has Steve been up to and how do you know that your friend is innocent?’

‘How the hell should I know what Steve’s been up to? You’re the detective here?’ She paused. ‘The agent here.’ She continued, ‘And Thando is innocent; she’ll never be involved in anything shady. Trust me.’

He noted something down. ‘So her name is Thando,’ he said.

Q could have kicked herself for letting that slip. She had to be more careful, she told herself. ‘If you’re not gonna tell me anything about Steve, then I’ve got nothing more to say to you.’

‘Just tell me why you were doing a background check on him. You had to have a reason,’ he said.

‘Am I under arrest?’ she asked.

He shook his head.

‘Then I’ve got nothing more to say to you. If you have any more questions you can contact my lawyer.’

Agent Forster said nothing. He didn’t move. He was sizing Q up and it made her feel uncomfortable. He drummed his average fingers on the desk for a second, then he slowly stood. ‘That won’t be necessary.’ He placed his notebook on the inside pocket of his jacket. Q thought that all he was missing was a pocket watch and he would look like the detectives in those black and white movies.

‘A word of warning, if you know something about Steve, you better tell me. And if you are involved with him, be careful,’ he said. He reached into his pocket for his wallet, peeled one of his business cards and handed it to Q.

‘If you think of anything else or suddenly feel an urge to talk, call me.’

Q studied the business card as Forster left her office. There was nothing memorable about it. Nothing at all.