Page 60 of The Dis-Graced
“Anyway, Gianni invited me back boating at the end of summer, and you know what, I’m thinking about going. Why not? I mean, I could spend two weeks out on the water, and who knows, maybe I can land an assignment, so I’m not like totally being neglectful.”
“Uh-huh.” I nod in agreement.
“But I don’t know how I feel about being tied to a man for two whole weeks. I mean, he was great for when I was in Italy, but I could literally send him away in the blink of an eye. If we’re out at sea, there’s no escaping him.”
“Yeah, that would freak me out.”
“I got let into a museum after hours in order to do my work uninterrupted, and you will never believe what happened. The guide, the one that was supposed to be taking me to each of the exhibits, was easily six-foot-two, dark hair, big muscles, huge cock.”
I damn near choke on a meatball, but Steph doesn’t miss a beat, discussing which exhibits they desecrated and for how long.
After nearly an hour and a half of Stephanie’s ramblings, I find myself eager to learn more about my potential assignment. In fact, I find my interests worlds apart from hers, and the conversation is quickly become a chore. It’s not that I think less of her for her enthusiasms, I just find them unrelatable.
“So, about this job you have for me…” I say, trying not to appear rude.
She arcs a brow. “So, that really is the only reason why you came, isn’t it?”
“Steph, you know I love you, it’s just a really bad time for me.”
“It’s not just now. You’ve always been a bit of a stick in the mud.”
“Well, if you liked me then, you should like me now.”
Steph reaches into her bag, bringing out a portfolio and handing it over to me.
I swallow my anxiety and look inside, surprised, by the name of the company displayed on the letterhead.
“Top Off News?” I say with a scrunched brow as I stare at the naked women behind the anchor desk featured in a picture.
“Yeah, they’re offering a pretty sizable contract for ya. Yer hot shit right now, to the right audience.”
I look up in shock when I realize she’s being serious.
“How could you?”
“Excuse me? How could I what? Find you a job?”
“This will ruin my professional career.”
Stephanie downcasts her eyes, and I realize that to her, my career is already dead.
I set the portfolio on the table, no longer wishing to look through it. “I’m working on a pretty big project right now,” is all I say.
“I know, I know. I didn’t mean to sound like a Debbie Downer, but ya gotta realize you’re not going to be digestible to the larger audience. Not now, and possibly not ever. I’m sorry, but this is a good gig. A great gig.”
“After this project I’m working on, I’ll—”
“The one with Drake Dallanger?”
“Excuse me?” I say with a scrunched brow. “How did you know who I was working with?”
Drake specifically said no one was allowed to know that I’m working on a project with him, so Steph catching wind of this is pretty unnerving.
“Ah! I guessed it! I figured you’d be hard to employ, and I remembered you had some fancy brother working for the Dallangers, and I guessed it.”
“So, what you’re telling me is that you think there’s no possible way I’ll ever work on a good project again without someone handing me a job.”
Steph’s eyes widen. “Don’t go puttin’ words inta my mouth!”
