It is quite possible that Mirella's sense of reality has become somewhat warped as a result of watching too many James Bond movies - or watching them too many times. She owned tapes of every movie ever made and watched them constantly.
Needless to say, those were her favorite films. There was, however, one aspect which got up her nose. The female agents who were sent by James Bond's enemies to destroy him, always succumbed to his charm. Those highly-trained, cold-blooded killing machines fell in love with James Bond and ended up abandoning their mission, betraying their cause or their country, disobeying their boss and thus damaging their career prospects.
For Mirella, this was a smear on the professionalism of female agents. She saw it as her role to set the record straight. She would be the female secret agent who would not be swayed by good looks and smooth talk. Mirella saw herself as the one who would bring the undefeated record of James Bond to an end.
She had already selected her undercover name and imagined the impact it would have when she handed over her business card reading
Vagina A. Plenty
Secret Agent
But then she realized that secret agents hardly handed out business cards stating their profession. However, they said things like 'The name is Bond, James Bond', so she pictured herself saying 'The name is Vagina, Vagina A. Plenty'. She didn't agree with people who said that this name was too obvious, both as far as it's single entendre was concerned, and for being too closely inspired by the character Pussy Galore. Besides, most people she knew had no idea what vagina meant. They used other words. Yes, pussy was amongst them, but it wasn't the word the majority of them would use. A complete stranger whom she once asked what he thought of when he heard the word 'vagina' replied "Would that be North Vagina or South Vagina?"
Another guy, one who had read loads of books, suggested she'd call herself Fay Latio. She had to look long and hard in the dictionary before she found what he meant. What use was a name if it took a cunning linguist to figure out what it means? Besides, she didn't want anybody to think she was just another cock sucker.
For the time being she was still working under her real name, Mirella Giovanna Castiglione, a name which betrayed her Italian roots. What she had inherited from her Italian ancestors was the full, dark hair which contrasted so distinctly with her alabaster skin. She was proud of her black hair which she wore long and full enough to cover her breasts completely when she looked at herself in the mirror. She spent hours brushing it so that it would be absolutely straight, with no unruly curls disturbing the picture, but she admitted that her hair didn't have the silky shine of that of the Thai girls she had once worked with during a short spell as a night club hostess.
She envied those girls for their smooth, shiny hair. But that was all she liked about them. Other than that she found them too submissive, too slavish almost. They would giggle when a customer put his paws on their tits and ass and say 'You very naughty man'. Mirella, on the other hand, didn't think it was part of her job to let the customer feel her up.
The job was about smiling a lot, being friendly and making the punter believe that he had a chance of bedding her. It was about getting him to order drinks and then some more drinks and, when he had spent more than he could afford, move on to the next one. So, when one evening an insistent customer grabbed her breasts, she removed his hand, first firmly but not without gentleness, then more forcefully and finally, when his hand returned for a third attempt, Mirella said, "Listen buster, if you don't keep your mitts off my tits I'll bust your balls".
That was the end of her career as a hostess. The 'little shit', as Mirella called him, had the nerve to complain to the manager and Mirella had to go. Threatening a customer was just not acceptable. The rule book stated clearly that the hostess had to remain calm and friendly under all circumstances. Only in extreme cases could she call on the security staff who would remove the offender from the premises. But the girls were advised not to call the bouncers too often; that could give the joint a bad rep.
Mirella wasn't worried about losing that job. It had never been intended as a carrier. It was just another step in her study of male weakness. The next day she walked into the offices of Walker, Taylor and Sons, one of the most reputable firms of private investigators in town, and told them that she was available to join their staff.
They liked the bare-faced boldness with which she confessed that she didn't have any experience in this field, her determination to achieve what she had set out to achieve and her willingness to do whatever necessary to get what she wanted, something Jim Taylor Jr. experienced on his own flesh. They called her 'goal-oriented'. She would have said it was her determination to survive.
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