Identities A Plenty

The dress shimmies down, down, down, until it’s a pool at the girls feet. She has to be quick with this. Her first target is going to notice that he just gave her some very important information, and will have a goon go looking for her in the bathroom. A purple dress emerges from her red purse that once matched the tight dress she was wearing. It’s looser, meaning it slips right on with no problem at all. It shimmers slightly in the bad bathroom lighting. 

The red dress disappears into the bag, right as she emerges from the stall to a bathroom of girls, possibly the best kind of people in the world. 

“Hey! Should I text my ex?” A girl shouts from a stall. And in unison, every girl, including the spy, shouts “NO!” Everyone chuckles. 

It’s nice, she thinks, not having to be a stone cold person in order to be a spy. 

She deposits the bag on the counter, fishing out a makeup wipe to change her appearance. “Ooh! That bag is absolutely beautiful! Where did you get it?” “It was a gift. Actually,” she grabs the items inside, “Would you like it? It doesn’t really fit me.” 

And just like that, she has a new pink bag, just barely big enough to fit her dress and makeup. “Thank you!” she shouts, leaving the bathroom. She applies a light layer of makeup, taking out her blue contacts to show her brown eyes. Her eyelids shine a mix of gold and copper. Perfect, Mr. Takashima will have no clue as to what's about to befall him. 

She emerges from the bathroom as a new person just as a woman that was with the last target enters, seeming to have been sent to scout for the unknown girl. The spy holds the door open for her, a gentle smile on her face. 

Takashima will be there at exactly ten o’clock. It is currently half past nine, she has plenty of time to spare. She mingled, flirted, got a couple guys’s names and numbers, that she will of course look into to ensure that they are worthy enough to be in the presence of a spy in disguise. But she doesn't drink, no matter how many guys buy her drinks or offer to, she can’t be drunk or even slightly tipsy, while on the job. Not only would it ruin her reputation, but it would put her at risk of missing a little tidbit of info or two. 

Right when she expects the door to open, she angles her head, watching as target number two enters with another person, probably a bodyguard in disguise. She angles her face away, only looking at him out of the corner of her eye. 

She allows them to settle down, get a drink down. But they never leave her line of sight. Even when men flirt with her, they never leave the corner of her eye. 

Finally, she makes her approach, it's subtle, like she has know clue who this man is or what he’s a part of. One, two, three steps, and she twirls around. “I’m sorry, I know this is weird, but that suitcase is just amazing! My brother needs a new suitcase and I think he would just love it! Do you mind telling me where you got it from?” She rattles the words, ensuring to slur one or two in order to make it seem like she’s on her way to drunken bliss. And like any drunk girl, she has no idea it’s rude to sit across the table, staring at him in anticipation. 

He’s in shock, that first that anyone would notice the pitch black suitcase, that was supposed to be under the seats away from sight. But the spy must have accidentally clipped it with her foot, bringing it to the light. 

The bodyguard moves to pick it up, but the woman clumsily scoops it up. Setting it on the table for inspection. “Oh! It even has a nice lock! Oh I would love a dress this color.” She flips it this way and that, “Where is the logo? I can’t seem to find it,” The bodyguard grumbles, moving as if to rip the suitcase from her hand, and wouldn’t be mad if her hand came off in the process. 

But Takashima stops him with the subtle raise of a hand. “And why, pray tell, do you believe your brother would like this suitcase? You haven't even seen how much space it holds.” 

She can barely contain her malicious grin. 

The case slips from her hands, which quickly clap together in excitement. “Oh yes! How smart you are! Could you please open it so I could see if it has a little pocket on the back? I know he likes it when they have that, it helps him organize his papers!” 

He did not expect her to ask that, but the girl knows him, she has met him many times, unbeknownst to him. She knows that he likes a bubbly straightforward girl. A girl who can easily be a little dumb plaything that can be kept by his side. He grins, ignoring the look from his bodyguard. “Of course, but only if you allow me to buy you a drink first.” She nods eagerly, “That's perfectly fine by me.”

His hand waves, flagging a passing worker, ordering her an alcoholic drink that she would never drink unless off work, which she is not. The drink is served with a flourish, a flower floating on top. “Oh my, that is just beautiful! Thank you so much!” She sips the drink, flavor exploding on her tongue, she’ll give him that. He has exquisite taste. 

He eyes her, clearly not quite impressed with how little she drank. So she subtly drinks more, acting as though she is doing it for herself and not for him. “This is amazing, I’ve never had this drink before,” she applauds. 

She only knows he is pleased by a quiet hum he lets out, taking a swig of his own drink. With a wave of his hand, the guard begrudgingly punches in the four digit code to unlock the case, and while it shows to be empty, the intelligent spy knows there is something she wants in there. “Oh that black is beautiful! And it does have a little back pocket!” While taking a sip of her drink, she quickly runs her hand along the back and bottom. Immediately finding the hidden spot on the bottom, she now knows where to go. 

“The fabric is so soft! What brand is it?” She uses both hands to drink, looking deep into Takashima’s eyes. Now all she has to do is find a way for them to look away long enough for her to grab the file meant for someone else. 

The case shuts with a soft click, “It is a special suitcase, made as a gift from a close friend of mine.” A lie, every spy knows this suitcase. Each one has a different cubby. Every spy wants one, except for this spy. She finds them boring. But she pouts, as though she believes him. 

“Well today has to be the worst birthday ever. Thank you anyway Mr? Oh my! I forgot to ask your name, what is it? My name is Stella!” If he will lie to her, then she will lie to him. 

“My name is Noah Takashima. It is wonderful to meet you Stella.” His eyes track a man passing the table, “If you would excuse me for a moment, I see a friend I need to talk to real quick.”

He removes himself from the table, leaving his bodyguard and suitcase with ‘Stella’. She makes a pained face. “Excuse me, would you mind getting me some water, I don’t feel so great,” she rubs her stomach, almost absent mindedly. The guard waves at a waiter, demanding water. 

Well at least he has some manners. She thinks to herself. 

She chugs half the water, hoping it will help with the alcohol she drank. “I don’t feel great.” she mumbles, hand covering her mouth. And with a flourish, she bends over the table, pretending to puke. In reality, she concealed a small bottle of green goo in her hand, emptying it on the floor. Spitting water out of her mouth that she pretended to drink. 

THe guard bursts from his seat, seeming to be disgusted, perfect for the spy. “Let me get you a napkin,” he panics. She groans and gags in response. He scurries away like a rat, and she has to pretend to still be sick while she unlocks the case, women coming over to help her. “Let me grab something out of my case first,” she gags out when one lady encourages her to retreat to the restroom. 

The case opens and closes as quickly as a whip, before she is pulled towards the bathrooms. “I need to go outside, I think fresh air will help.” As one, the unit of girls shift, going towards the doors to freedom instead. She allows the women to dote on her for a minute. Waiting in silence. “Thank you guys, to be honest,that guy was just so scary he made my stomach sick.” She chuckles to herself, earning a few dry chuckles. 

“I think you should listen to your gut and leave then,” a woman comments, getting others to agree. 

A white Subaru pulls up, a tall man emerging from it. “Bella? Are you ok?” He takes a single step, seeming confused as to how to help. 

“Andrew,” the once Stella, now Bella, girl sighs. “I think I need a nap,” she chuckles. The girls release her, noticing the relaxing of her posture in the presence of the man. 

He guides her to the car, as the ladies shout at her to feel better. She waves her thanks, sitting gingerly in the car as Andrew closes it behind her. 

Only once they are five minutes into the drive are the first words truly said, “Did you get it?” 

Stella, Bella grins, shifting around to allow the folder to slip out of her dress, “Of course I did. What, you think I’m an amateur or something?” She cackles a laugh, her spy friend joining in with a chuckle.