Hired for secrets

I have a proposition

The guard took a step forward, imposing his large frame onto Sofie. He smelled of kebab and shoe cream. He likely had multiple jobs, all of which paid too little to deal with a pesky up-shoot wanting to enter the exclusive VIP area at FinTower.

"Ma'am, you need to clear the area. Now."

The menace in his voice made it plain that he would not yield or let himself be talked into giving her access.

Dammit! Only the financial sector would sell a 10,000 Pound ticket that did not give access to all areas. But Sofie was not done yet. She stepped to the side as told, but did not leave. She pretended to call someone. It was the best excuse she could come up with for hovering around the entrance. She needed to buy herself some time. Sooner or later another VIP guest would turn up. She could pretend to know them, flirt a little and get them to let her tag along.

She could see the guard's patience run thin when finally a man in his forties approached the entrance. He was wearing a Fat-Elvis costume but his thin physique and lack of hair made it look utterly ridiculous. He either lost a bet or had a terrible temper for his entourage to dare giving him honest advice. Either way, he was the perfect mark. Sofie waved at him as he flashed his VIP ticket. The guard lifted the red corded rope from the entrance to let him pass.

"Hello," she hurried over, "I didn't expect to see you here."

She leaned forward to embrace Elvis and plant a casual kiss on each of his cheeks. She also made sure that her dress fabric strategically slipped to the side to allow him a brief glimpse on her naked breasts. It was an unspoken promise in a language he seemed to be well versed in.

"Yes. Good seeing you,... ah... Monica, was it?"

"Oh you don't remember my name? That's hurtful."

"No, no. I do, I do. You are..."

"Vivien."

There were thousands of socialites in London. Wealthy people like him would meet new girls every night, making it impossible to remember all their names. It was a believable set up for the guards to fall for, or at least go along with.

"Yes, of course, Vivien," Elvis said while dipping his cold hand into the open flaps of her dress. He felt up her obliques and moved his thin fingers up to the prize he caught a glimpse of earlier.

"Let's go in," she gasped trying to keep her smile in place.

"Oh yes, Vivien, I'm keen too..."

"Sir, I cannot let her in." The guard interjected. "She does not have a ticket."

His little black eyes shot to the guard.

"Do you know who I am?" He puffed himself up. "She's with me. Kapish? My girls come in when I say they do."

"Sir, you'll find that there are plenty of girls inside. They are vetted and briefed. Perhaps more suitable for your situation?"

"Oh well, that does sound exciting." He reluctantly removed his hand from inside her dress and gave Sofie a small slap on the bottom. "Well Vivien. Looks like I cannot take you. How about, I come back out with one of those suitable girls. Then the three of us can go somewhere else. Wait right here. Yes? It won't be long!"

"Absolutely. Hope to see you soon," she lied, feeling her stomach role as he went inside.

He was disgustingly keen. The last thing she needed was for him to come back and pester her with a threesome. She needed time to re-group and come up with a new plan to get inside. Preferable, when he was gone.

Sofie sat down at the bar closest to the VIP section. Her frustration grew with every minute that passed and she didn't have a plan. Every minute made it more likely that Mr. Lee had already left the party and it was too big of an investment to fail. Especially since catching Mr Lee in a social setting like this again would be unlikely. It was her only chance to talk to him while his guards were down. While he would not question being approached by a stranger who asked personal questions during small-talk.