Page 54 of Total Exposure

I like your name. It’s pretty and quite unusual. And I have an affinity for names like that, since I myself possess an unusual one as well.

But your story sucked.

Yes, this is me being gentle.

You tell me facts. No one cares about facts. Stories are good because of the emotion inside of them. And while you displayed a lot of external emotion as you wrote it, none of it came out on the page.

Try again.

“Fuck you! Fuck you! Fuck you!”

She screams it over and over again as she stomps around the house, spewing her anger at each and every camera.

“Now that is some display,” I say.

She whirls around to find the intercom on the wall behind her in the grand foyer. “Fuck you!”

“Come on now, Evangeline,” I say. “You can do better than that.”

“You owe me!” she seethes. “It’s your turn. And if you don’t give me something back, then fuck you!”

Her voice is distorted on the intercom, but I’ve got the microphones turned on too, so I’m actually listening through the headphones as I speak through the intercom.

I process that little bit of good fortune. She’s not getting my real voice but I get to see and hear her in perfect clarity. I get a lot more satisfaction out of that than I should. This intercom sucks, but now that I know she’s into talking, I’m gonna deny her as much as possible.

After I get her where I want her.

God, if this woman really was meant to be a gift from Jordan to make up for the fucked-up shit he did in the past… well, I might have to forgive him.

Because this isn’t me. This is all him. This is Jordan’s deal. The games, the women, being a player. But it’s always intrigued me. Not enough to join in. Fuck that. I’m just not into it. I do what I do for very different reasons than Jordan Wells.

But this is my job, right?

It’s a stretch, Ix, my inner voice says. Kind of a long one. But… he did put me here. With her. And she does have this very unusual problem.

“Quitting, huh?” I ask. “Typical.”

“Your game is stupid. I bet you never did anything with those cameras, did you? You and your boring friend, Jordan. You’re probably a bunch of fat, worthless, bearded guys who live in their parents’ basements and get off on animated porn!”

“Well.” I laugh into the intercom. “Now that’s more like it. Put that in your story.”

“You can shove that story up your ass,” she screams. “I bet this Jordan guy isn’t even real. You’re making all this up. Fucking liar!”

Wow. She is one angry woman when she gets going. “Would you like to meet him?” I ask.

She stops, mid-rant, finger pointing up at me via the camera, and lets out a long breath. “Who?”

“Jordan,” I say. “Would you like to see him? You don’t believe he’s real. He’s kinda hot. And this opinion is coming from another man. So, you know. Don’t discount that.”

“How?” she breathes.

“Trick him, of course.”

She smiles, but lowers her head so I only just barely catch it. “Trick him how?”

I shrug, even though she can’t see it. Because I hadn’t really planned this out. “Let me figure it out and I’ll get back to you. But until then, keep writing, Evangeline. I want something real from you.”

“When?” she demands. “When can I see him?”