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“Can I grab you a cab, Ms. Ashcroft?” he smiles as I saunter out.
“You know I’ve got it.” I smile, and he pats my arm.
I hail a cab just outside the complex with my signature whistle. I’ve been told over and over again it’s unnecessary, I could just flash a little leg or throw my long brown hair around, but this suits me.
A cabby stops immediately, and I jump in waving to Greg as we speed off. I let the cabby know I need to head toChicmagazine, pronto. Finally settled, I start to scroll through my texts. Now what the fuck is going on?
Oh, shit. There’s some kind of major scandal. Normally, I’d find these things at least a little interesting, but these days, it turns my stomach. Something about the sheer number of notifications turns my stomach even further.
Before I can dig in, I jump as my phone starts to buzz, and my friend Josie’s face fills the screen. I pick up, my heart hammering in my chest. It’s not abnormal to get a phone call from Josie, we work together, and she’s my best friend.
But, my disaster sensors are vibrating. Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit. I’m actually trembling as I hit the receive button. Oh, God, it’s Facetime. There’s her big gorgeous face. And a lot of cleavage from this angle.
Damn, I love that blouse, did we just get that in? I make a mental note to ask for the designer. She finally realizes I’ve picked up and shrieks as she sees me on the other end.
I yell and drop my phone in the back, having to shuffle under the cabby’s seat to get it back. He’s eyeballing me hard.
“Sorry,” I mutter as I turn back to the phone. “Josie, you can’t scream for God’s sake, people will confuse you with a banshee, what the hell are you doing?” Josie’s mouth drops open like a fish with her signature offended face.
“Excuse me?! Oh, queen, you’re the only one I let speak to me like this, you know that right? Gahhh, what the hell am I doing? No, no, no, my friend. That is not the question here.”
Am I ever going to get an answer out of her? She’s huffing and puffing, but I truly can’t make out a word she’s saying.
“Josie,Josie!” I yell into the phone, casting another apologetic look at the cabby who’s giving me a cartoonish eyeroll. Goddamnit, Josie, I’m gonna have to tip extra.
“What the hell did I do she says!” Josie scoffs. “No, Natalie. Not what the hell did I do. What the hell didyoudo?” She goes silent, staring at me. Fuck, she’s scary when she’s quiet. I’ve seen this look cast upon a terrified intern, but I’ve never been on the receiving end.
I swallow hard, wracking my brain. Did someone tell her about the wine store? I thought that was all cleared up? Oh, fuck did that store owner go and run his mouth? I can see the headline.Clumsy drunk destroys thousands of bottles in debauched scandal.
I’ll rip that bristle ‘stache off his stupid little fat face —
“Did you hear me?” Josie asks impatiently. I stare at her blankly. It’s highly unlikely bristle ‘stache went out of his way to tell the world I broke some wine bottles. If anything, it sounded like the arrangements Roger made were very favorable for the store owner.
“I heard you, Joze, but I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”
She shakes her head and stares me down.
“There’s some serious trouble.”
