A Hell's Angel convinced her to take a window on the canal and promised other work. That turned out to be spy work, Mata Hari type stuff. Blackmail. Information. Us."Simeon nodded his head sadly."Yeah," Julie continued. "She called our agency and talked to Simeon. They met at a hotel and fucked. It's part of the interview process." Best fuck I ever had," said Simeon."Fuck you Simeon. Anyway, so instead of fucking and sending her on her way like he usually does, letting me do the second, non sexual interview to find out if she would fit in, he spent the night with her and, well, you know Bess. Simeon figured he didn't need my input. He thinks she could be ... me I guess. I mean I'm often travelling, recruiting, interviewing all over the world for ... help." Thieves you mean," I said."To be crude, yeah." But it doesn't sound like the Angels could do what you do. They're not interested in finesse and cleverness." You'd be surprised," said Julie. "But no, it isn't their cup of tea. They. Other women seemed to do it so effortlessly, yet she seemed to have to put more physical effort into it. Occasionally, a young man from the deli would make an appearance and offer to help, which she always politely refused. The faint hum of the fluorescent lights as they bathed her in their pale white glow was occasionally drowned out by the bump of her cart as she struggled at each turn into another aisle. Her face started to take on a gentle flush as blood rushed to color her beautiful, symmetrical features; she could feel it in the rising heat at her cheeks. If she concentrated, she could trace the heat to the source, somewhere at her A-cups, rippling gently across the piercing of her pink left nipple on the way up to her neck and face. “Do you need help, ma’am?” The deli boy made his predictable appearance. He always seemed to appear when she felt her most fragile. She avoided his eyes, but in the peripheral at the upper part of her vision, saw his gaze linger at her.
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