Things are not what they seem to be

Kieran

“Hey, Kieran.” Simon Bailey used every chance to flash his perfect whites.

“Hey, Simon.” I motioned to the chair across the table, wondering how such an outstanding lawyer could be so vain. The world did not know a man more obsessed with his outer appearance than him.

He called me an hour ago, insisting we meet as soon as possible, and indeed, he was punctual. But no matter where he went, he couldn’t help himself but look for a witness to his Apollo-like body, even if that was only a mirror.

However, he was the best in his field of operation.

“What do you have for me?” I cut straight to the case, knowing how we both appreciated the essence of time.

“Well, you were right. Things are never as they seem to be.”

The waiter brought drinks I ordered a moment before Simon arrived, and he sipped on his whiskey immediately.

“More precisely, that place your wife worked before? The Saunders? Yeah. I remember the owner, old sleaze; he’s been adamant we take him as a client for years