to you our author, Maxim….” I stopped right there because I’d had one clear and perfect moment of horror as I realized I had completely forgotten the man’s last name. It was totally gone, as if it had never been.
“So, here he is, folks! Heeeerrre’s Maxim!” I said, apparently doing an Ed McMahon impression and where the fuck had that come from? Poor Ed had been dead for years and years. Perhaps I was having a stroke.
I gestured expansively toward him, and he stepped up on stage, giving me a confused look. My face flaming, I tried to pull the microphone off the stand and hand it to him, but it wouldn’t budge. I gave it a real yank and it flew off in my hand like it was greased, hitting Maxim squarely in the jaw. He reeled backward, holding the side of his face, and a huge collective gasp of horror came from the audience. He recovered quickly, thank God, actually laughing a little as he took the microphone from my nerveless hand. He reached for my wrist and held my arm over my head. “The winner, ladies and gentlemen, and still champ!”
I closed my eyes briefly, trying to bargain with the universe to open a hole beneath me on the stage so I could drop through it. Somehow, I got off stage and made it to my seat beside Tori. I couldn’t even look over at Mr. Young, because I was afraid of what I’d see. I kept my face down firmly in my hands, until I heard his voice over the microphone as he joined Maxim on stage. The lights went down, and I made a break for it, slinking away from the table and into the kitchen. From there I made it to an exit and then to my car. I figured I was fired anyway. Might as well save myself the horror of facing my boss when this was over.
I turned off my phone on the way home and once there, I took a pain pill from an old bottle my mother had left at my house and fell into a deep and drug-induced sleep. I slept late the next morning and woke to someone banging on my front door. I stumbled out of bed and found Tori at my door, looking as perky and fresh as a daisy.
“You weren’t answering your phone, so I came by to see if you slit your wrists.”
“No, but it was a close thing. Am I fired?”
“No. Surprisingly, Mr. Young covered for you.”
“He did?” I asked, my eyes popping.
“Apparently the new book is a romantic comedy, and he said your little performance was just to get everyone in the right mood.” She shrugged. “The audience seemed to buy it.”
“That doesn’t mean he won’t still fire me.”
“Nah. I told him you fell and hurt yourself on the way over and that you took a pain pill and then drank some champagne and then my vodka and tonic by mistake, thinking it was ice water. I told him you can’t hold your liquor, and that it would never happen again. He wasn’t thrilled, but I think you’re fine.”
“Oh, thank God. And thank you, Tori. How can I ever repay you?”
“By being ready at eight o’clock tonight for the club. I'll pick you up. Wear something cute—those tight jeans you wore to the company barbeque last summer. Your ass looks amazing in that. And that black mesh t-shirt you have.”
“W-wait...what?” I started to sputter. “I never even said I'd go tonight!” She laughed and started heading for the door.
“You owe me, remember?”
“But-but… the black mesh shirt was part of a costume I had for Halloween!” I called after her. “And I wore a t-shirt under it.”
She turned at her door and gave me a wink. “And you looked gorgeous in it. Or you would have without the t-shirt. Come on, Jordy. Show a little skin. Live a little. This will be fun. You’ll see!”
Famous last words. I trudged back to bed, thinking hard. I’d have to try to remember where I put those jeans she was talking about that were way too tight for me. I may have packed them up in a bundle for Goodwill, because they looked a little indecent. As for the mesh shirt...I sighed, already regretting letting her talk me into this. It was too revealing. Like I was trying too hard to be sexy or whatever. I did have a pair of biker type black leather boots