A Spy Among Them

“...And you agree to our conditions?”

I stood alone in the room, a bag on the floor in front of me, a rough voice coming out of a speaker on a table.

There was nothing left for me anywhere, anyway. The fire had destroyed everything. What else could I say? Without the agency, without this mission, I would have been on the street, or worse...

There was only one thing to say:

“I agree.”

“Then good luck. We’ll be in touch.”

From the moment I picked up that bag which had keys to my apartment, a computer, and a debit card, I had sealed my fate. I walked out of that office, bag in hand, ready to start my new life but fully aware of the price I was going to be paying.

And what I would be doing.

When I unlocked the door to the apartment they had furnished for me, I smiled. Home.

When I saw the closet of clothes that someone else had picked out for me, I still smiled. They were nicer than anything I had ever owned.

When I laid down on the bed that had clean sheets and soft pillows, I definitely couldn’t hold back my smile.

I knew I had a job to do, and I was willing to do it. But for the moment, that first day after signing the agreement at the agency, I finally had things that were mine. Or at least mostly mine. Was it okay for the apartment to feel like “mine” even though someone else was paying for it? I didn’t dwell on that.

I was going to find the leak.

I was going to save lives.

I was going to be a hero.

It didn’t take long to explore my area of town. There wasn’t much in my neighborhood, just a few little shops, a couple restaurants, and one or two sad looking little bars. And you know what? I didn’t mind one bit. After where I had lived before, this town, my new town, where I could start my new life, felt like heaven on Earth. I had exactly one week until the start of my job which would take me one step closer to true freedom and independence.

But for now, before all of that began, I should totally celebrate, right? I was 18. I felt like I had my whole life ahead of me, and tonight I had a lovely, warm, Thursday night in front of me. How much trouble could I stir up on a Thursday night anyway? My job didn’t start for a few more days.

The clothes that had been purchased for me were pretty conservative, but I had a dress of my own that had been bought by an ex-boyfriend. A dress that I had only worn once before it got tossed on the bedroom floor – a black skimpy thing, cut outs on the hips, low cut up top. Perfect. I was really feeling myself by the time I left the apartment and headed to the closest bar.

So maybe I had more than one drink at the bar.

So maybe I had one too many drinks at the bar.

These facts led me to standing over the table of a dark haired handsome man who looked like he would rather be anywhere other than there while I tried to talk to him.

“Can I sit down?” I asked, sitting anyway in the chair across from this sexy gentleman before he could even respond. “I just moved here. What’s your name?”

No denying it, this guy was hot. His long black hair was pulled into a casual pony tail. He was definitely older than me, but not by a lot, and his eyes looked like they had seen some shit. I wanted those dark, penetrating eyes to look at me, which, at the moment, they did.

Dressed in all black, he took a sip of what looked like whiskey, but he did not answer me. He was looking at me with what appeared to be half curiosity and half annoyance. That wasn’t a problem, I was feeling great and chatty and was going to chat with this handsome man whether he liked it or not. If I just kept talking, maybe he wouldn’t ask me to leave.

“I just relocated,” I told him. I used the word ‘relocated’ to sound more mature. As if I had had some kind of choice in my move. “I have this new job that sort of sucks but it is what it is, am I right?”

He took another sip. No response. He did continue to stare at me though as he drank, and I noticed his eyes straying every now and then to my chest.

I knew how to play this game.

I leaned forward on the table, pressing my arms against the sides of my breasts to make them slightly spill out the top of my dress. Unfortunately, I was not as coordinated with this move as I thought, because in doing so, I also knocked over my drink on the table.

“Oops.” I cringed, standing up and trying to use the little bar napkins to clean up the mess. I was leaning far over the table

“Hey, doll, you need some help?” a low voice asked from somewhere behind me.

I looked behind me and saw another man leering at me as I bent over the table. I realized I probably shouldn’t be bending over like that, given how short my dress was, so I stood up quickly.

I swear I heard a growl from my new friend at the table.

“No, thanks,” I smiled at the man behind me. “I got it.”

“Yeah, you seem like you do.”

Finally my dark haired friend spoke. “Time to go home,” he said standing up and ushering me away from our table.

“No,” I slurred, "Time for you to go home. With me.”

He did not look amused.

“Do you live near here?” he asked me.

“Uh.. I think so?” I started fishing around in my purse for a slip of paper.

“You don’t know where you live?” he asked blankly.

Thankfully I had written down my address, since I had only been living there for a few days. He typed it in his phone. “You’re right around the corner,” he said, sounding a little surprised as well as relieved. “Let’s go,” he said, taking my hand.

“You think you can just tell me what to do...? No one tells me what to do.” I noticed he left some money on the table. He held my elbow to help guide me out of the bar. “Well, some people tell me what to do. I guess a lot of people do these days. I wouldn’t really mind you telling me....” We were walking but I kept rambling.

“Stop talking,” he said bluntly.

So I did. For a second. But I couldn’t help it. The alcohol had completely taken away my filter, not that I had much of one normally, which is why instead of just thinking this as a normal person would, I said it out loud: “Oh, so you’re hot and bossy.”

He rolled his eyes and kept walking, holding my arm to keep me moving.

We stopped at a light, waiting to cross the street. Now that we were stopped, I realized how sleepy I felt. I leaned my head on his shoulder and closed my eyes.

“Wake up, we’re walking.”

“Oh, sorry.”

After helping me up the stairs to my apartment, I was able to pull myself together to find my keys. “Thanks,” I muttered, now a little more sober and a lot more embarrassed. This nice man had walked me home and made sure I got to my apartment safe. All I had done was act like a horny idiot. I gave him a little wave goodbye and got out my keys.

He waited in the hallway by the stairs to make sure I got in as I unlocked the door. Once inside, as I pulled the door behind me, all of a sudden the door jerked back.

I looked up at the door, wondering what was keeping it open.

It was his hand.

When I turned around, I saw a slight smirk on his face as his dark eyes looked down at me.

“Well,” he said, “aren’t you going to invite me in?”

Hot. damn.