Congratulations on Setting Up Shop!

On your first day business will be slow.  The glass storefront will be gorgeous, like every other glass storefront on the Champs Elysses, and, as such, there will be nothing to really distinguish your store from any other boutique shop selling something people really don’t need on Paris’ main thoroughfare.  You’ll light a cigarette and sit behind the counter, curious, for a moment, if the people who are born in Paris understand the romanticism that people imbue their city with, the frivolity that the outside world perceives in every block of France’s most populous urban area.

You’ll sit there for three hours, alone, nursing a rapidly cooling cup of coffee, wondering if anyone will ever try to buy authentic Navajo jewelry, when she walks in.  Her face will be partly covered by a bandana, to mask the acid scars, but you’ll know her by her walk, the easy movement of her hips and her eyes, sliding along the course of the store, taking in every detail, every inch of your new place of business, your new home.

“You’re getting sloppy,” she’ll slur through her ruined jaw.

“I was already sloppy,” you’ll retort, tapping your jaw while you look at her.

She won’t seem amused, but she will relax a little, striding up to where you’re standing and laying her hands on the counter.

“This is really what you wanted?” she’ll spittle into her bandanna.

“No,” you’ll say, laying your hands over hers.  “But I had to know.”

You’ll reach across the counter into her coat and take hold of her pistol.  Then slowly, easily, you’ll draw it out and let it rest on the counter between you. While you disarm her you’ll draw down her bandana with unexpected ease.  The skin underneath will be pockmarked and cratered.  Her lips will be slivers of what they once were, her muscle tissue barely concealed by skin grafts.  You’ll wonder, for half a moment, where she had the work done, before the realization of who she is and what her presence her means, before you slide your mouth over hers and kiss her the way you wanted to on the day you ran.

“I’m sorry,” you’ll whisper into her ear.  “I had to be sure it wasn’t you.”

She’ll push you back and look you in the eye.  Her eyes will be fiercely indignant, but a moment’s consideration will soften them.

“I know what you mean,” she’ll say as she slides the gun over to the cash register and hauls her weight up over the counter, stripping off the bandana as she hurls herself on top of you.  The feel of her weight on you, the sudden overwhelming presence of her scent will make your mouth water.  For the first time since Reno, you’ll feel truly alive.

Congratulations on Setting Up Shop!