Allegra.
“You can’t be serious,” my agent, Kimberly, said to me as we sat in a little cafe in Rome overlooking the Colosseum. She sipped a cappuccino and stared over the top of the tiny little cup at me with wide, incredulous eyes.
“You didn’t think I’d stay out of work forever,” I scoffed, sipping my own cappuccino. “I’m a model. I model. That’s what I do. That’s how I make money.”
“I thought assassins made pretty good money?” Kimberly snarled. It was one of the many reasons I disliked her.
But, she was the best agent in the business, and she’d actually agreed to take the meeting, so I couldn’t really complain. “I’m not an assassin.”
“The U.S. Government begs to differ,” Kimberly said.
“The U.S. Government can sit on it and spin,” I grumbled. “I was trained as an assassin, yes, but I don’t WORK as one. I WORK as a model.”
