Chapter Five
The next day, I wake up early and go for a run. It started off as a way to keep in shape but now I use it as an escape. It's nice to clear my head and not have to think about work. Dealing with cheating men on a daily basis can really mess with your mind. I concentrate on nothing but the wind in my hair and the air in my lungs.
After having a shower and taking care of some errands, I head to the office for my next assignment. I check my reflection in a nearby mirror while I wait for the elevator to take me to the tenth floor. My blonde hair, which is in desperate need of a cut, has a slight curl to it from letting it dry naturally. I run my hands through it then apply some lipstick.
The elevator doors open and a middle-aged woman steps out. Her eyes are red and puffy as if she's been crying and my gut is telling me that she's one of our clients. She looks me up and down before shaking her head. "You're so young. We have a daughter around your age." I have no idea how I'm supposed to respond so I stay quiet. A lone tear trickles down her cheek. “Thank you,” she says before walking away. Wait; did she just thank me for trapping her husband? It takes me a few seconds to realize how completely fucked up that is.
I step into the elevator, feeling a little taken aback and punch the button for the tenth floor. We never meet our clients. That part is left up to our boss, Kristen. Even when it's a full trap and they are waiting for us at a specific location, we always leave immediately afterwards. As soon as a man proves that they are willing to go home with us, our job is done. Meeting our clients would only complicate matters.
When the elevator doors open, I'm greeted by the large company logo. HTA is written in a black, elegant font. It could easily pass for some kind of design company or advertising agency. I carry on walking until I see a woman sitting in the small waiting area. Kristen usually tells us to drop by at a time when she's completely free to avoid us bumping into clients. Could this be two in one day? The woman glances up and catches me looking at her. I suspect she's used to it. Her eyes are the color of dark chocolate and her long black hair looks like silk. I would guess that she’s only a few years older than me and it's obvious that she comes from money. She's dripping in jewellery and is head to toe in designer clothes. "Hello. Can I help you?" I ask.
She leans her head to one side. "I don't know, can you?"
"Have you got an appointment to see Kristen?"
"Yes. I'm early."
"No problem. I'll go and let her know that you're here." I smile politely before making my way to my boss’s office.
"Come in," Kristen shouts after I knock several times. I step inside and take a seat in front of her huge desk. "Sophia, how are you today?" Before I even get the chance to answer, she carries on talking in true Kristen style. "Great work last night. My client was shocked that he took the bait. I think she's been in denial for a long time. Did you pass a woman on your way up here?"
"Um, I saw a woman getting out of the elevator and there's another woman waiting outside who says she's got an appointment with you."
She nods. "The one in the elevator, that was his wife. When I showed her the photos, she couldn't believe how young you were. She's filing for divorce today." She says it like it's the most normal thing in the world and to her, I guess it is. Although my job has taught me to have quite a thick skin, it's never nice to hear that I'm one of the reasons why somebody is getting divorced. But what's even worse is listening to a married man talk about giving me a multiple orgasm while his wife is at home washing his goddamn underwear.
Kristen roots through her papers before handing me a file. "Here's your next trap." After a few moments, she gestures to the folder. "Well? Aren't you going to take a look?" I narrow my eyes. She knows that I always wait until I get home. I like to sit down with Lori and come up with a plan of action. We treat each of our traps differently. Some require a slow and steady approach whereas others benefit from being more aggressive. I favor the ones like last night - minimal work, maximum results. When I don't answer, she continues, "I want you to know that I've spent a lot of time thinking about this. It might seem a little daunting at first but I think you're the right woman for the job." Why is she saying these things? "Sophia, your next trap is high profile and my client is offering us a lot of money." She leans in closer to me. "And when I say a lot, I mean a lot. More than ten times the usual rate."
My stomach does a somersault. I've heard Lori talk about these kind of traps. High profile means that I could end up being in the public eye, which in turn means that somebody could recognize me. If my cover was blown, it would be game over. Was I ready to leave the agency for good? Maybe it’s finally time to move on and put my degree to good use. I decide to keep an open mind and weigh up all of my options before making a decision.
I open the file and get my first look at him. I swear that in a matter of milliseconds, the sun shines brighter, the birds chirp louder and the room gets hotter. I see dark hair, blue eyes and stubble. Olive skin, a chiselled jaw and stubble. High cheekbones, full lips and stubble. If you can’t tell, I kind of have a thing for stubble. Some people call it an obsession but I call it a healthy appreciation for facial hair. It's not as if I spend hours trawling Pinterest looking for hot guys with beards and stubble.
I've become so used to opening files and seeing greying, middle aged men that I begin to wonder whether this is some kind of practical joke. Either that or Lori must have crossed her fingers for me after all. I read his short bio.
Mason Hunter.
27 years old.
6'2. 182 lbs.
Brown hair. Blue eyes.
Business owner.
Married since 2016. No children.
"Do you need some time to think about it?" Kristen asks.
My brain is saying yes but my ovaries are screaming no. It says a lot about my life when I’ve forgotten what it even feels like to be physically attracted to someone. I remind myself that I'm a professional and even though he's hot, he's probably a cheating douchebag and it's my duty to help his wife discover the truth. After convincing myself that he's the devil and my decision has nothing to do with the fact that he's stupidly handsome, I close the file. "I'll do it."
Kristen grins. "Excellent. I knew I could count on you. Now, I must warn you that this trap is going to be a little different."
"Different how?"
"Well first of all, his wife wants to meet you."
A feeling of unease washes over me. "But that's not how it works..."
"My client is paying us a lot of money. It works however she wants it to work."
"But why does she want to meet me? What difference would it make?"
We're interrupted by a knock on the door. "You can ask her yourself." I immediately begin to regret my decision when the woman from the waiting area enters the room. Kristen stands up to greet her. "Mrs Hunter, it's good to see you again."
"Call me Emily."
"Of course. Emily, allow me to introduce you to Sophia, she's agreed to work with us."
I can feel the hostility radiating off of her as she looks me up and down. "Hmmm, I think she looks too young for Mason. I was hoping it wasn’t her when she walked by a few minutes ago." I frown. I've always taken good care of my skin but I've never been told that I look young for my age. If anything, my curves have always made me look older than I actually am. "She looks too innocent. Find somebody older."
I can't keep quiet any longer. "I'm twenty four. Your husband is only three years older than me."
She smirks. "Wow, it sounds like somebody is very eager to seduce my husband."
"Well that's kind of my job," I reply, starting to feel defensive.
“So what’s your real name?”
“Sophia.”
“Why don’t you use a fake name?”
“Because I don’t need to. I never tell people my last name.”
“But strippers use fake names.”
“Well I’m not a stripper.”
“It’s the same line of work.”
“No, it isn’t.”
“You both seduce men.”
Is she trying to piss me off on purpose? “I keep my clothes on.”
“That’s a shame. You could probably make a lot more money if you didn’t.” I’m ready to get up and leave when she turns her attention to Kristen. "I thought I asked for a brunette?"
"You did but Sophia is one of my best girls. I trust her to do the job. She can dye her hair whatever color you want."
Gee, thanks.
Emily waves her hand dismissively. "Leave it. It'll be interesting to see if he likes blondes after all." She turns to face me. "How much do you weigh?" I laugh in response. "What's funny?" she asks.
"Oh, you're actually being serious? I thought you were joking."
"None of this is a joke to me. I'm asking you because I know what my husband likes."
Other women, apparently. I sigh. "Around one forty five."
"Hmmm, you have a good fifteen pounds on me. Stand up." Is she being serious? I turn to Kristen and raise my eyebrow in question. She nods so I stand up and perform an overly dramatic twirl, jazz hands and all. "How tall are you?"
"Five eight," I reply, which has to be at least four inches taller than her.
"Bra size?"
I roll my eyes. "Thirty four double d. I'm an only child and my favorite color is midnight blue. I don't smoke and I like to sing Disney songs really loud in the shower. Anything else? How about my blood type?"
She smiles but it fails to reach her eyes. "You've got a sharp tongue. Whereas I find it irritating, no doubt Mason will find it endearing. I guess this could work."
"Thanks for your approval," I reply sarcastically.
She stares at me for a long time but I refuse to be the one to look away first. "You have one shot so make sure you impress me." I stop myself from saluting her. "You need to be at Scoma's restaurant tonight at six o’clock. Wait at the bar for my friend Joanne to come and get you. It's supposed to be a double date but I'm going to cancel at the last minute. You're going to pretend that you went to school together and take my empty seat at the table. Joanne and her husband will excuse themselves shortly after, leaving you alone with my husband."
I nod. "Is it a full trap?"
"Am I supposed to know what that means? In English, please."
"If he's willing, do you want me to take him home with me? You'll get the location so you can get there first."
She tosses her hair over her shoulder. "Put it this way, I'm not paying your company ten grand to have a friendly chat with my husband."