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That was the most stressful part of our current assignment. The Client wants Roman Atwater, but we haven’t been able to find him. Every employee we’ve questioned—tortured—has been a dead end. They either don’t know where he is, and we kill them, or they are so loyal that they refuse to give us the information we need—and we kill them.
“It seems simple enough of a job for tonight.” I skimmed through my briefing document. It seemed straightforward; the only problem was obtaining the information we had been working on. I was becoming really tired of all these dead ends. To me, they had been a total waste of our time.
“Get us the information we need to nail Roman’s balls to the wall. If not that, at least get that product in our hands. Either of those will be a win for us tonight.”
“We will update you once we have completed our assignment,” Madison said.
“Do not disappoint me, girls. If Roman succeeds with releasing this product into the US market, there is a lot more at stake than just your paychecks. You will have hell to pay. This Client isn’t fucking around, and neither am I.”
With that, the phone went dead, and the tension in the room dissolved into nothing. We had our next job, and tonight could easily lead to a good mix of business—and—pleasure. The Landing is an upscale and exclusive nightclub in the heart of the city, and we were gaining easy access to it for the night—sure, as employees, but still, we had a way inside for once.
I've been living here with Madison for three years, but we still haven't had the chance to enjoy this club. No matter how attractive you looked, they were extremely strict about who they allowed inside. You could wait in line outside for hours and still not get in.
We attempted once, and after waiting for four hours, we just said, “fuck it,” and went to a nearby bar instead. We never attempted to get in there again.
“Would you quit fidgeting already?” Alexis growled and roughly jerked me toward her as we started getting dressed for our assignment.
“Ow! You’re pinching me!” I yelled at her. If she were a maid, I would fire her ass immediately. She was the worst at helping me get dressed for anything. I would have asked Madison for help, but she had already left the room.
“Oh, quit being a baby and hold still; I’m almost done.” She laughed and then finally released me. “There, finished.” She playfully smacked my ass and then rested her hands on her hips.
I stared at myself in the full-length mirror and gawked at my appearance. The outfit for tonight was not at all what I had anticipated - if you could even call it an outfit. I ran my hands down the form-fitting, strapless cocktail dress that left very little to the imagination.
It was a black spandex type of material that hugged every single curve of my body like a glove and stopped just under the curve of my ass. It wasn’t a sleek and straight dress; it was cinched on the sides, folding over on itself where it stretched across my body. Despite it being skimpy as shit, it did leave a flattering figure.
“I look like a cheap whore.” I deadpanned as I stood there staring at my reflection.
“Oh, don’t be silly, Chyler; you need these boots to complete that look.” She chuckled, dropping the thigh-high, matte black, high-heeled leather boots on the floor next to me. Fuck that.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” I picked them up from where she dropped them and rolled my eyes. “This is ridiculous. I’m not wearing these with this.” I gestured to the nonexistent dress and the boots together.
“The club owner is a creep. What more did you expect from his uniform choices?” She shrugged.
“I don’t know what part of ‘upscale nightclub’ this outfit signifies, but it’s a fucking joke.” I threw my hands in the air and turned around, collapsing into the chair next to the mirror.
Over the years, I've had to wear some pretty ridiculous things for our assignments. Still, I really wasn't looking forward to being in an exclusive nightclub surrounded by billionaire-type assholes, wearing something that screamed "buy me." I really hope that I didn't get mistaken for a prostitute.
Alexis grabbed her uniform and walked out of the room just as Madison strode in wearing hers and took a seat on the couch opposite me. She faced the mirror next to me and began fluffing her hair, making sure it was to her liking. I've always loved her hair. It was a bright white blonde with just the right amount of light brown shadow root. Her preferred style was to leave it down with styled beach waves.
“Oh, relax; the men are going to be drooling all over us tonight.” She chuckled and winked.
“You make it sound like it’s hard to get a man’s attention on a normal day.” I grinned, convinced that she could attract a man even in sweatpants and a baggy t-shirt. She was naturally beautiful.
“No, it’s not, but having a sexy outfit like this makes it that much easier. Less work trying to be—” She waved her hand, trying to think of the right word, “approachable.” She snapped her fingers when she found the word she was looking for. Approachable was the right word for it. There were times when men were too intimidated to come and flirt with us, but I don’t think it had anything to do with what we were wearing.
“Touché. Way to make light of a shitty situation, Mads.” I sighed and leaned forward, picking up my boots and sliding them on.
“Catch!” Alexis called from the doorway as she tossed us two small badges. I caught mine in one hand and turned it around to see what was written on it.
“Stella?!” I exclaimed, “Fuck sake Lex, now I know you really are screwing with me.” I'm gawking at the bold letters on my name tag. I officially no longer wanted to work on our assignment tonight. I’d be more than happy to stay home and shove my face into a pint of ice cream instead.
“Just put it on, Chyler. It is one night, and we can’t use our real names. You know that.”
“Yeah, but could you have at least picked one that was a little more classy? Where did this name even come from?” I huffed and crossed my arms. Yes, I was going to throw a hissy fit, and I wasn’t ashamed of it. What I was ashamed of, was going by the name “Stella” all night.
“This was a last-minute arrangement. I didn’t have time to cater to your every whim and wish, Chy. Next time, you take care of securing our cover if you are going to be so ungrateful.” She threw her hands in the air and stopped down the hallway.
“Ooo, now you’ve done it, you’ve gone and poked the bear.” Madison snickered at me, covering her mouth. I didn’t care if I pissed her off; she pissed me off all the time. Without further argument, I removed the back of the pin, securing it to my dress. I’ll play nice for now, but I was going to get her back for this.
