My Double Life
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Things aren't always as they appear. My name's Kaya Kingsley and on the outside I'm your typical bookworm with good grades and the bad wardrobe to go with it. I'm the girl who had to leave her last school because of too many sick days. So I guess you could say I'm an always sick nerd. The thing most people don't know about me is that I'm an 18 year old spy working for MI6 and the CIA. I miss school so I can go on missions and catch criminals. I'm not sick, I'm just avoiding being shot. After getting kicked out of my school I decided to leave the UK and make a move to New York in America. A fresh start with a new agency. All I had to do was blend in and not draw any attention at my new school. Things don't go as planned and now I have to decided if love is more important that the job that I've been doing since I was 14. The job I love and never before doubted I would be doing for the rest of my life.
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I hated waiting. It was especially challenging standing carefully to make sure I didn't break my heel before the appointed time. Ugh setting up a meet cute like this seemed so stupid. If all I had to do was seduce the mark, why did we have to go through all this extra effort? But the powers that be said our mark had a real romantic streak and was currently heartbroken over his highschool sweetheart cheating on him with a new business contact, before both skipped the country, seemingly to elope. I watched the crowd walking past me as I stood in the shade of a closed store alcove, the walls giving me something lean against making sure I didn't step on the unstable heel accidentally. Stupid Americans, everyone looked like they were in such a hurry to go buy more things they didn't need. Hair and makeup took two hours yesterday and just as long today. I did not want to have to sit through that again. Plus being stuck in a third girly demure dress for another day might be enough to finally kill me. It might not have all been so bad if I could have chatted with someone while my hair was pulled and burned and styled, and creams and potions layered on my face and eyes. But all of the salon girls were owned by the powers that be, and none spoke any of the languages I could. I suspected that it wasn't an accident. I felt my phone vibrate with an alarm. Show time. I started walking down the sidewalk. It would have been a beautiful day for a walk if I wasn't so focused on my mission, and trying to only walk on my toes with my right foot. The town car pulled up to the curb just ahead of me, coming to a stop in front of the quaint little shop. The timing was working out perfectly. Just a couple more steps. I watched as the rear door of the passenger side opened, I moved to step around the now open car door just as a set of long legs in navy slacks swung out from the car. 3...2...1...
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