She slaps me playfully on the shoulder. “Oh, don’t be silly. Everyone calls me Cookie!”
I wince, but she breezes past it with her bubbly personality. We fall into conversation for several minutes, and I find it stress-free to talk to her. The camera doesn’t bother me as much as usual, and it’s only when Teri tells us that time is up that I register Julia’s presence.
Cookie departs with a quick hug right as Julia steps forward to hand me a bottle of water while the crew jumps into action preparing for the next woman.
Julia seizes the chance to taunt me when she whispers, “Imagine moaningOh, Cookie.”
I shoot Julia a dirty look as I swipe the water bottle, only for her to close her eyes and make a soft moaning noise. “Yes, Cookie. Just like that, Cookie.”
My lips twitch as I try not to laugh. Ishouldn’tlaugh. But unfortunately for me, I find Julia Silva to be way funnier than I’d ever admit.
“Yeah, so I love murdery things.” Catherine sits across from me, looking ethereal in her flowing dress.
My brows jump in startled surprise. “Murder?”
“Ha! Like true crime. Podcasts, books, movies. I’m starting my own podcast delving into all the gory details of past cases. Possibly even tackling new ones.”
This woman looks too sweet to be into gory details. Golden hair, a sugary-sweet voice. I find the contrast funny and kind of relatable.
We spend our time talking about serial killers, and strangely I kind of dig it.
“My name is Madeline, but you don’t recognize me, do you?”
The woman with long, straight dark hair and matching thick brows smiles at me flirtatiously.
I rack my brain, trying to place her, but everything comes up blank.
“I’m so sorry. I don’t.”
“I went to school with your sister.”
“Oh. You’re local then. That’s cool. Which sister?”
“Parker.”
My forehead scrunches as a memory from the past dawns on me. “Madeline… from Parker’s English 30 class?”
In our family we called herPlagiarism Madelinebecause she stole Parker’s paper and tried to pass it off as her own. It had nearly gotten my sister suspended until she could prove that she’d emailed it to herself a few times over the course of working on it, just to save backups.
“Yes!” Madeline confirms, not a shred of embarrassment on her face. This chick is as delusional as I remember. Which makes the rest of our conversation uncomfortable as hell.
The only thing that gets me through it is knowing I’ll be able to eliminate her soon.
“I hated that movie.”
I grimace at Cynthia, trying to find some sort of common ground with a woman who appears to hate everything. I’ve tried music, travel, television, and sport, all of which seem to bring her zero joy.
“Do you have a favorite movie?”
She shrugs, a sour expression on her face as she stares down at her nails. “I prefer reading.”
“Cool. A favorite book then?”
“Ugh, I don’t know. Everything being published these days is so basic. Bad writing. Predictable storylines. I just keep rereading the classics.”
God, she’s fucking miserable.
“Maybe you should write a book?” I suggest dryly. “Put something up to snuff out there, ya know?”
