Not Good Enough

Stanelle

Author's note:
Hey dudes and dudettes! Sorry I've not updated recently. Had a lot of essays to do and I had to go to a uni open day, so....anyway, I hope you like this chapter. Make sure you read the author's note in the next chapter because I'm going to tell you about an important decision of mine regarding this story. See ya later!
Drew Grey

I walk my way to the other end of the club, to the covered part where the boss sits. Two bodyguards are there, just as Stan said. They are stood in suits, looking out for people like me who are going to cause them many problems.

I stand in front of them and they look down at me. Wow, they're tall. Even with these damn heels on, I'm way smaller than them.
"Sorry. Only professionals get in", he says.
"Are you sure?", I ask them, trying my best seductive face.
They both frown at me, disgusted.

"Why are they frowning?", Stan asks.
"Fine. I'm going", I say, walking away. I walk to the other end of the bar and into the hallway.
"What happened, Bertrude?", he asks me.
"I can't get in unless I look like a woman from the playboy mansion", I tell him.

"I can help you there. I've got a really sexy costume like that in the back of the car", he says, and I can here a car door slamming.
"What? Why do you have that in your car?", I ask him, confused and yet glad.
"Because, after this, I'm going out with my FWB", he says.
"Huh?".
"We're friends with benefits. She bats for both teams but, because of her sexual frustration and her girlfriend not being able to-", he tries to go on.

"I'll stop you there. Can you come to the door and hand it to me?".
"Already on my way, Bertrude", he says.

After a few minutes of waiting, there's a knock on the door. I lower my voice and ask for the password, just in case it's someone I don't know.
"It's me, Bertrude", Stan says, sounding annoyed with me. I open the door.
"Well, it could have been someone else and I wasn't about to give myself up just yet".

"Here's the outfit. You're lucky I had it. But I had to go to the shops to get the ears. They only have bright pink ones that flash", he says.
"Got it", I say, shutting the door in his face. I start to get undressed.
I look at the outfit and try to find out how I am supposed to put this on.
"So, I know you won't tell me what all of this is about, but can you please tell me what this is about?", he asks me from the other side of the door.

"No. Anyway, you agreed to this without asking questions", I remind him.
"But...that was just because I'm a guy who was once a little kid that loved spies and would have done and still do anything if it means he can fulfil his childhood spy dreams", he says.

"Ugh, this zip won't budge!", I say, trying to pull it up. I start wiggling the stupid zip, but nothing!
"Fine. Let me in and I'll do it", Stan says. I sigh, opening the door. He's about to say something.
"Uh! No. No comment", I say, glaring at him.

I turn around to let him zip me up, moving my hair out of the way.
"What's with the marks on your back?", he asks me, zipping the costume up.
"Remember: no questions", I tell him, turning back around once he's done.

I tie my hair up in a bun and look for a place to hide my gun and knife. Ah, nowhere. This outfit is too small and tight!
"Looks like I'm going in with no weapon", I say.
"Be careful", he says, sounding really caring. I turn to him, slightly confused with this change in character. That's when a bright light flashes and I can't help but blink in the daze.

Ah, his phones camera.
"Stan, you better have deleted that by the time I get back", I say, before walking off, now entering as a blonde.

I feel so exposed. My legs, my arms, my natural hair instead of the wig and the tightness of this damn outfit. As I walk through the door, I stand straight, walk confidently and hopefully, sexy. I head for the back of the room. I stand in front of the really really tall bodyguards.
"Good. The replacement is here", one bodyguard says, looking me up and down.
"Not as good as the other one though", he says.
They stand to the sides and make way for me to get through.
"I'd still do her", the other bodyguard says, smacking my behind. I make a small giggle sound, glad I'm not falling in these heels and walk through another door. There's three professional women. One is pouring drinks. The other is dancing around the room. And the last one is sat by the boss, feeding him grapes and strawberries.