Max rolled his eyes and took a huge swig. "I've got some sugar in my pocket if it's not sweet enough," Meg tried one last time. "It feels it, yeah," he responded, only just concealing his slight impatience with her. Max paused, lifted off the lid and put it close to his lips. "Is it hot enough?" Meg shot, trying to ensure that Max drank some. "Thanks for the coffee," he finished, putting his thumb up in the air and turning to walk away. "Sure," Max nodded again, feeling a little awkward. Why couldn't Max just drink it already? "Whenever, really," she mumbled on. "Text me your address and I'll come and have a look," he instructed, lifting the cup to take a sip, but then pausing. "Yeah, why not," he nodded, still holding the cup, but not taking a sip. I'm useless with tools and stuff and wondered whether you wanted some extra cash for the weekend?" Meg lied. "I heard that you built a shed for someone recently. "A bribe for what?" Max asked, taking it and holding the cup in his hand, with a confused expression on his face. "It's a nice, warm cappuccino," Meg continued, knowing it was Max's favourite. "I've come to offer you a bribe," she explained, handing over the coffee cup she had poured Madam Azarov's mixture into. "What's the matter?" Max asked, a little bemused to see Meg there. Meg found it hard to keep looking at his face. His shirt was off, exposing his naturally built frame and large arms. Max looked over and nodded, looking confused as to why a girl he barely knew was looking for him, here of all places. "Hello," Meg called out, not wanting to get in to trouble for being there. It must have been almost time for them to finish since they were all clearing up. Max was working on a construction site close by and so Meg parked her car and gazed about. But Meg was used to getting what she wanted. Meg had lost track of the number of times she had tried to buy him a drink, or flirt with him. That's why it was so crazy that Max always stayed single, only briefly dating girls who were way below his league usually short, chubby girls who never lasted long with him before he moved on to the next one. But Meg knew that, deep down, everyone wanted a piece of him. Some girls would pretend not to like him: "He's too tall," one might say, or, "He's too muscly for me," another may comment. If anyone had won the lottery when it came to their genes, it was Max. Max was a tall, incredibly handsome guy, with wide shoulders and a naturally strapping physique. Meg had never met a man she was more attracted to in her life. She grinned, tapping the vial in her pocket, then set off to find Max. She hadn't realised how clammy she was from the adrenaline, until the bitter cold hit her face once again. The door slammed behind her and Meg was out once again on the busy street. It didn't really matter that she had to get her hands dirty, hacking into her computer she now had in her hands what she had wanted all along. Women like Madam Azarov always had some sort of dirt to be dragged up, and indeed the amount of tax evasion she was involved in was enough to see her behind bars for sure. That was when Meg knew she had to get creative. But Madam Azarov had just laughed and demanded a six figure sum in return. When she had gone to see her last week, she had asked for the same thing she was holding in her hand right now. Although, Meg had no idea what she spent it all on, looking at her unkempt flat above the store where she sold her trinkets and spells. Meg had heard, through whispered conversations, how she would conjure up all sorts for people at a very handsome price. It had been a stroke of genius finding all this dirt on Madam Azarov, the infamous back-street mystic. She couldn't wait to use her new acquisition she was already turned on at the thought. "Likewise," Meg replied, making her way out.
"But I never want to see you again," she finished bitterly, pointing to her front door. "It will work," the lady scoffed, ripping the hard-drive from her hands. "This had better work," Meg warned her, trying to echo her hostility, holding out a hard-drive and looking in to her eyes to check her sincerity. "I want the evidence," she demanded, holding out her hand.
"And now, we're even?" the lady grunted with slight aggression. How could it hold such extraordinary magic as to make her crush fall for her? "Just slip this into his coffee, or on something he's eating and then you're done," the middle aged lady mumbled, grudgingly handing over a small, blue vial.
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