One day in New York

 

She had heard there was a finder's fee, that was her only motivation.  When she showed up at the door she was holding a shoebox.  She had one hand supporting it from the bottom and the other holding the top down, like something was going to pop out if she didn't.

I looked at her for a moment and then asked, "How did you ring the bell?"

She didn't answer, in fact, her expression never changed. There was just a vacant stare.

"Would you like to come in?" I asked.

I stepped aside and she cautiously entered, looking around to see who else might be in the room.  Just a couple of steps in she stopped, turned, and in a shaky voice said, "There's supposed to be a finder's fee."

I'll need to see inside the box first, I said.  She quickly drew the box closer to her. 

I'm not paying unless I see, I said.  Again. she glanced around the room then carefully lifted the top from the box.

I could see them, they looked perfect.  I went over to the coffee table and got my wallet.  I pulled two twenties out and handed them to her.  It was the first time there was a hint of a smile.  She handed the box to me and quickly tucked the bills into her pocket.

As I carefully took them from the box, I looked back at her.  "It's called a delivery charge, not a finder's fee."  

 

She left without saying a word while I tried on my new shoes.