Secrets of Agent 13

Secrets of Agent 13

Status: Finished

Genre: Erotica

Details

Status: Finished

Genre: Erotica

Summary

Colin Benz is 25, darkly handsome, ambitious and willing to take a chance. Oryana Yelzinski is ten years older, petite, twice divorced, wiser and worth millions. But when a chanced telephone conversation for a property valuation suddenly brought them together, it sets him on a roller-coaster cocktail of sex, jealousy, lies and a romance that will change his life forever. And then, there was the beautiful Yvonne Blakely-Tat, and the secret she'd threatened to expose about him. Will she?

Summary

Colin Benz is 25, darkly handsome, ambitious and willing to take a chance.
Oryana Yelzinski is ten years older, petite, twice divorced, wiser and worth millions.
But when a chanced telephone conversation for a property valuation suddenly brought them together, it sets him on a roller-coaster cocktail of sex, jealousy, lies and a romance that will change his life forever.
And then, there was the beautiful Yvonne Blakely-Tat, and the secret she'd threatened to expose about him. Will she?

Chapter1 (v.1) - 1

Chapter Content - ver.1

Submitted: January 17, 2019

Reads: 455

Comments: 1

A A A | A A A

Chapter Content - ver.1

Submitted: January 17, 2019

A A A

A A A

He let the phone ring twice. Then looked around the office before deciding they all wanted him to answer it.

He quickly snatched up the receiver on his desk.

Hello! MacMurreys, Agent 13 speaking. How may I be of assistance to you today?

“Hi,” responded a velvet female voice.

“I would like to sell my property and…”

“Certainly ma’am! Would you like MacMurreys to have it appraised?” he said, interjecting.

“Urrgh!” The velvet voice exclaimed rather pleasantly.

“You just took the words right out of my mouth.”

“Have you sold before, or is this your first time?”

“My first time? No kidding. I am getting twice divorced.”

“From the same guy?”

“I know! Weird, but terribly funny, isn’t it?”

Colin wasn’t laughing.

“I am terribly sorry to hear it,” he said instead, wishing he had worded the question a little differently or not bothered to ask at all.

But she giggled at the other end.

“Don’t be,” she told him with gleeful enthusiasm. “Because, between you and me and honesty, I am not!”

“In that case ma’am, my sympathy is withdrawn.”

Again, she giggled.

“Sometimes, life deals us flaky wild cards. Some will choose to accept them and keep shtum. Others may skip over whatever is thrown their way and run a mile. I happen to be one of those who chose not to keep shtum. The cheating little wretch had it coming to him for a long time.”

Colin then muted a coughed laugh. It wasn’t what she said that made him want to chuckle, but the impact of its delivery.

“I believe you have given away too much information than is required ma’am,” he said.

Yet it surprised him how lightly she made it sound; like it was a joke to her. Or a relief, perhaps. It was unusual. Because, being driven apart through divorce for most people is not by itself the best laudable of experiences to be passed on.

But she sounded ecstatic.

“Anyway, before I can confirm your appointment, I will have to ask you for a few personal details.”

At that moment, two other telephone extensions began to ring simultaneously.

“Sounds like a call centre?”

“It’s a seasonal thing ma’am. We are very busy at the moment.”

She chuckled once again.

“Surely, busy is good anytime. Better than sucking one’s thumb idly, don’t you think?”

“I agree. But it isn’t much fun either, when the reward is pittance for sweating this hard. Your full name, residential address, contact number and email, please.”

“In that order?”

He was sure he detected a tiny smirk of humour in her voice. Still he did not want to come across as the unashamed undercover journalist fishing for news where there wasn’t any.

“Preferably ma’am. But whichever suits you best is alright by me.”

“O-R-Y-A-N-A Y-E-L-Z-I-N-S-K-I,” she called out slowly. And then confirmed her home address, contact number and email in that order.

“That’s brilliant! Thanks.”

There was a moment’s silence as Agent 13 quickly flipped through the office diary looking for the next available date.

He pressed the phone’s mouthpiece against his chest, muting any sound. Then calling out to no one in particular, he said: “who is available to pick up an appraisal covering SE3 for Tuesday?”

“Sales or lettings?” said Matt, who covered the lettings for the aforementioned postcode.

“Sales, sorry!”

“That’s Tosh’s patch,” said Sidney Uwe, joining in the conversation. Sidney? That’s the big guy whom everyone fondly referred to as ‘Big Sid’.

Adding: “Where’s that broomstick anyway?”

As MacMurreys branch office manager, it was his role to keep an eye on everyone.

Tosh McIntosh was the nicest guy you could ever meet.

He stood taller than most of his mates and very soft-spoken.

They all called him ‘man-mountain’. He’s the kind who’s never been known to take offence too easily, which must be said to his credit.

However, he was too lanky for his height.

Big Sid just called him broomstick instead.

Sid himself, on the other hand, could pass for the funniest comedian anyone would love to have on their team.

He’s usually at his best when you get to know him. But the other side of big Sid could be as mean too.

Without realizing it, the office platform had become his comic arena.

Bizarrely, for those who’d never met him face to face, the initial encounter might leave them with an unexpected shock.

It must be said though, that, from behind, he does command admirable physique. The enviable specimen every adult male may have secretly wished they looked like.

Macho with broad shoulders!

His buttocks were well rounded and firm! But such complimentary thought soon dissipates like the sudden whiff of bad breath the moment he turned around.

Sid is one of those rare breeds with a dreadfully ugly face.

Not of his own making by any stretch of the imagination. Just the way his face turned out at birth. If ever there was a better excuse for the invention of corrective cosmetic surgery, Sid’s face was it. His head was larger than most. His eyeballs bulged as though they intended on falling off their sockets. Scarier than anything Monsters Inc could ever have imagined.

His face was unsympathetically moulded to frighten any unsuspecting onlooker first time. His jawbone was like a pitiful mash of displaced flesh hurriedly strewn together by some vagabond on the run. If it was an art; a masterpiece of how not to design a human face would fit the description.

That said; Sid was a sweet and considerate man whom any mother would be so proud.

“He’s out again in the cold smoking that stuff which will eventually send him scuttling to intensive care unit one of these days,” said Oliver.

Oliver, who had weaned himself from similar addiction in the past six months, suddenly discovers he could no longer stand the stench of his previous vice.

As his desk was sandwiched between the rows before Sid’s managerial desk, he silently bore an eternal grudge for the agony of Tosh’s fag smell after each smoke. 

The phones began to ring again.

“It’s never OK to keep a potential client waiting, Colin. Did you ever read your induction manual? Grab the flipping appraisal. It might just be the saving grace you seriously need to boost your declining monthly sales stats.”

Colin Benz, aka Agent 13 stared at big Sid, his eyes narrowed with contempt.

His deepest thoughts were spiteful. His stare very sinister!

“Watch yourself young man. I saw that!” said big Sid.

“Sorry to keep you waiting Mrs Yelzinski. I can now confirm your appraisal will be scheduled for Tuesday at 11:45am. Is that convenient enough for you, ma’am?”

“It’s perfect! Thank you.”

“Do you know who will be available for access to the property?”

“I shall make myself available on Tuesday.”

Adding, she said: “who then shall I have the pleasure to be expecting on the day?”

“That would be my humble self; Mrs Yelzinski. My name is Benz. Colin Benz! But you may call me Agent 13. Everyone else does.”

“Cool! I look forward to meeting 007’s nemesis. Ta-ta!”

The humming tone at his end of the line suggested that the conversation had ended. Mrs Yelzinski had hung up.

Again, the office phones began to ring, disrupting the fleeting thought that was on the verge of settling on his mind.

 

***

Tuesday was bright and fairly mild for a late autumn morning in early November. Earlier, the TV weather girl had said it would be generally cloudy, with a mix of showers.

It’s possible they may have gotten it wrong again like in 1987. Colin wrapped up warm.

Then he proceeded and gathered his car key.

He picked up his laser device for measuring distances including a leather folder containing his other paraphernalia for property appraisal.

He double-checked again to ensure he had everything in place. Shortly afterwards, he glanced at his wristwatch.

The long hand was pointed at 10:59am, allowing him some forty-five minutes head start.

By all accounts, it should be enough time to drive to his appointed destination regardless of any minor lost time due to the unforeseen effect of any traffic delays.

“Colin?” Big Sid called out as he headed for the exit door.

“The ball is between your legs and the goal post. So, go get it, Tiger!” he told him assuredly and with a raised thumb.

The branch office door was made of clear re-enforced glass as part of the shop front design.

Colin pulled it open and stepped out into Main Street. He felt the cool late autumn breeze on his face as he began the short walk up the road towards the car park.


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