Foreign

She had a long gait to her stride, a little shimmy in her hips that told me a lot of things in very little-but very intriguing- movements.
"You have some nerve asking me to come all the way out here."
She slid into the booth across from me, and with an unsmiling tone spat the words toward me in a thick foreign accent that i couldn't quite place.
"You better have good reasons."
I flicked the flint on my lighter and lit up a cigarette, eliciting several disdainful looks from those around me, but it was an outdoor cafe so they could just bite it. I flicked some ashes into the sad remains of my once proud burger and smirked, never making contact with those seductive eyes.
"I think I have something you might find interesting, some information about your precious dead husband's estate."
I reached into my coat and produced a manilla folder, one of the three I'd brought with me. The least damning goes first.
The envelope made a little shushing sound as i slid it over the table to her, as if asking the secrets it contained to be silent.
She didn't say much as her dainty fingernails undid the little metal catch and she slid out the three worn pieces of paper within. The edges flaked a little as she perused them with those eyes-those eyes-and i sipped the last of my melted ice from my soda.
"This can't be true. I refuse to believe it."
She threw the papers onto the table and stood up to leave.
"Hey, honey, i don't make up the stuff, i just bring it to the people that pay me."
I produced the second folder and tossed it onto the ground just behind her feet as she turned away. Should have dropped it a little ahead of her so i could get a glimpse of her well toned backside, but, eh, I'll be a gentleman today and settle for a look down her shirt as she bent over to retrieve it.
"What is this? More lies?"
I didn't reply, just sat back a little and waited for her reaction. I wasn't bringing out the big guns yet, but what I had in that one would surely get her to sit back down, and continue our conversation.
The way she slumped into her chair made me realize that the hook was in now. She looked at me in disbelief but realization slowly came over her face.
"It's true, isn't it? All those things that...no..i..it can't..."
Tears welled up in those eyes, but i didn't look up, still nursing the smoke from my cig.
"Hated for you to find out like this, but someone figured you needed to know."
I wasn't falling for this grieving widow show. I knew what kind of woman she was, and what she had really wanted from her husband. Oh, sure, people talked, pretty young thing with this fat old guy, this walking pustule but no, she was never after his money, or the fame the marriage brought her. Nobody knew her real intent, but me, and that had taken some heavy digging-sometimes literally.
She had a right to know, though, and that's what i called her here to do. tell her everything.
With a slow, steady hand, i slid her the third envelope...