The Bloody Parking Lot

Today is Eddie Shane's twenty-eighth birthday. I began preparing the gifts half a month early—a red Ferrari sports car and a Patek Philippe watch, with his initials engraved on the band. Before heading out this morning, I kept checking my makeup in the mirror. The white dress made my skin look so pale. Holding the custom gift bag, my heart felt like it was housing a rabbit. I drove my black Mercedes straight toward the biggest shopping mall downtown. The watch was waiting at the luxury store on the mall's top floor. I had asked the salesperson to hold it until today—I wanted everything to be perfect for Eddie Shane's surprise. As I approached the entrance to the mall's underground parking, the cars started lining up. Weekends at the mall are always like this—so crowded, so few parking spaces. I slowly followed the line of cars forward, eyes searching for an open spot, until I finally saw one marked "Temporary Parking." I quickly turned the steering wheel, slowly reversing into the parking spot. Just as I was about to pull the handbrake, a blinding light flashed from the side. I frowned and looked up. A silver Ferrari had pulled up beside my car. The window rolled down, revealing a sharp, hostile face. "Hey, I called this parking spot first. Move your car now." Her voice carried a commanding tone, nails painted bright red as she tapped sharply on the window. I froze for a moment, pointing at the parking lines. "I'm already parked in—see? The wheels have crossed the line." The woman scoffed, then pulled a thick wad of cash from her bag—probably twenty or thirty thousand dollars—and threw it straight onto the hood of my car. "This money is enough for you to park in a fancy lot ten times. Give me the spot, and keep the cash." The bills scattered across the hood, their red color glaring sharply against the metal. My anger boiled over. I threw open the car door and stepped out. "What's your meaning here? Trying to buy me off? I don't need your money." She got out too. Dressed head to toe in designer clothes and standing on ten-centimeter heels, she was at least half a head taller than me. "Whether you need it or not is your business, but I want this parking spot, and you have to give way." She walked up to me, her eyes full of contempt. "You're driving a lousy Mercedes and still dare to fight me for a parking spot? Do you know how much my Ferrari costs? Selling your car wouldn't even cover a fraction of it." I clenched the gift bag in my hand, my knuckles whitening. "Parking spots are first-come, first-served, not decided by the price of your car. I have something important to do today, and I'm not giving this spot to you." "Something important?" The woman looked me up and down. "What important thing could you possibly have? Probably just here to buy some cheap cosmetics." I was too tired to argue with her and just turned to go back to the car. But she grabbed my shoulder and pushed hard. "Don't you understand? I told you to move your car!" I stumbled but caught myself, then completely lost my temper. "Don't touch me! Keep it up and I'll call the cops!" She pulled out her phone and waved it. "Call the cops? Go ahead. I want to see who they'll side with." A small crowd had gathered around us, pointing and whispering. I took a deep breath and told myself not to pick a fight today—Eddie Shane was still waiting for me. "I really have an urgent matter, so I can't give up this parking spot. You should look for another one." I tried to soften my tone. But she didn't take the hint at all; instead, she got even more arrogant: "I want this spot today! You're not moving? Fine, just wait." She took out her phone and made a call, her voice instantly turning sweet and playful: "Hey, darling, I'm being bullied in the shopping mall parking lot. Someone's fighting me for this parking spot and being really mean... please come quick." After hanging up, she looked at me triumphantly: "My boyfriend's coming right away. Just wait—you'll regret this." My heart skipped a beat—a bad feeling settled deep inside, but I stayed rooted by the car. Today was Eddie Shane's birthday; I didn't want to mess it up over something petty, but I couldn't just let anyone push me around. A few minutes later, hurried footsteps came from a distance. A man in a black suit strode quickly toward us. I looked up, and my mind went utterly blank. That man was Eddie Shane.