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“I got caught up, Cheryl…” I start to say but she fucking cuts me off.
“Yes, I saw her heading to the elevator when I started coming this way. She looked happy,” Cheryl says and raises her eyebrows at me. “Quite different from the way she looked from my office when she came up.”
“She wanted off the project,” I tell Cheryl, not knowing why I’m fucking explaining myself to her. “But I talked her into staying.”
“I see,” Cheryl says with a deep breath as if smelling the room. “I’m glad you didn’t sleep with her to make the point.”
“Are you smelling for fucking sex smells, Cheryl?” I ask, not sure where this conversation is headed. “Is that in your bag of tricks nowadays too?”
“I’m sighing, Ethan,” Cheryl says rolling her eyes and walking to the window. “Because I don’t think you realize what you’re falling into here.”
“What?” I ask, walking to the window too. “You still think she’s the one who's going to steal the prototype for Simon?”
“No, Ethan,” Cheryl says turning to me. “It doesn't matter if she’s the one who's stealing the prototype, but at least you need to be honest with her.”
I pause. That stops me short.
“You need to tell her the truth about what you’re doing,” Cheryl says to me. “Because you’re in love with that girl, and regardless of what she’s up to, she’s in love with you.”
I still have nothing to fucking say. It’s not like I have the high ground anymore.
“And if you really love her, the least you can do is be honest about yourself and what you’re doing. At least to her,” Cheryl finishes.
I’m silent as she looks at me for another second.
“I’ll be with Marketing if you need me,” she says by way of goodbye.
I stand there for a long minute as Cheryl leaves.
I mean, just answer me one fucking question, if you will, and don’t skip to the end, okay?
Since when did porn get to become so fucking complicated?
Brittney
Two weeks left to go until the go-live for Ethan’s prototype that will revolutionize
pornography for the human race.
Yeah, sounds a bit over the top, doesn’t it, hun?
In fact, this entire situation seems like something you only find in a movie or the mind of a very mischievous romance novelist.
I mean, look at me? A porn star?
Sure, I used to be famous, if famous is the word. I mean, I used to be on DVD covers and on the Internet. My face used to be plastered on porn sites. Click on me and you’d see me sucking cock. Licking another girl’s pussy. Having a cock pounded into me.
Yeah, I like sex. I liked the role playing I used to do. Pretending to be the stepmom and getting paid for it. Dressing up as the stepdaughter and moaning ‘Daddy’ and calling that work. Driving my Mercedes. Having fancy clothes. Jewelry.
I liked sex. I still like sex.
And now, I have 24 hours. 24 hours to steal the one device that could make me a star again. 24 hours to take from the man I love his greatest accomplishment and give it to his sworn enemy.
Or else, the dark shadow from my past comes back to haunt me.
Right, I keep hinting at Robert, the ex-boyfriend, but you actually have no idea completely what I’m talking about yet, do you?
I know I kept telling you that I’d fill you in but I never have.
