The Potion

The store was full of statuettes, vials of liquid, small books, necklaces, and rings. A middle aged woman who appeared to be of Middle Eastern heritage walked up to him. She wore a long emerald green dress with a red and gold scarf around her neck, and her hair was held up with jeweled pins. "Welcome, sir," she said as she reached out to shake Frank's hand.

Frank took her hand, and she flipped it to look at his palm. She gently ran a finger down his palm then looked him in the eyes for several seconds. "Trouble at work?" she asked.

"How do you know?" he asked.

"I can sense things," said the woman as she continued to trace her finger on his palm. "Your boss...she is...not nice."

"Yes, exactly!"

"I can help." The lady dropped Franks hand and walked to a shelf and took down a crystal vial full of ruby red liquid. "Put this in her coffee, and she'll be much more accommodating."

"Drug her?"

"It's not a drug. It's a potion. It won't harm her; it'll help you. Trust me."

Frank just knew he could trust the woman. She charged him $100 for the potion, and he left.

The next morning, he slipped the potion into Faith's morning coffee before he brought it to her.