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The famous line from Spiderman creeps across my mind, with great power comes great responsibility. “Thanks Dad. I’ll let you know how the negotiations go.”
“I have no doubt you’ll succeed. Good night son.”
I toss the phone on the couch next to me and kick my legs up on the crappy coffee table in this cheap rental apartment. It’s not just my relationship with Catherine that is fake. Everything about me in Arizona is fake. This apartment, my job, even the cheap used car I purchased to help with my undercover assignment, a fifteen-year-old dented Nissan Sentra. So different from my blue and white BMW I have parked in a garage.
There is still over ninety minutes before I must get to work. I’m tired of being someone I’m not. I hop off my couch and walk into the small bedroom. I push open the shaky closet door and reach into the rear of the closet for the hanging garment bag partially hidden.
Five minutes later I’m dressed in a nice pair of Brooks Brothers dress slacks, a custom European cut silk shirt, and my own pair of Italian leather shoes. BMW keys in hand, I sprint out of the depressing apartment. Each step I take away from the life I’ve been leading, I reclaim a little more of myself. Looking like my true self, feeling like my true self.
These measly ninety minutes are going to have to suffice to ground me until this deal is official. That’s all I need, to wear my real clothes, drive my real car, and become my true self for a little while.
That and stay away from Catherine.
