Power Play

Power Play by Deirdre Martin Read Free Book Online Page B

Book: Power Play by Deirdre Martin Read Free Book Online
Authors: Deirdre Martin
attributed it to her WASP upbringing. She’d never seen her parents so much as hold hands, and when she was small and her mother decided to have the big Sex Talk with her, her mother couldn’t even use the word vagina . She referred to it as “your flower,” then made a disgusted face before handing her a book about reproduction and fleeing. Later that day, Monica had confusedly peered between her legs, expecting to see a daisy or a rose growing there. The thought was extremely alarming. At any rate, she’d been left with the vague impression there was something dirty about sex, an impression she’d never really managed to shake, which sometimes impaired her pleasure. Except in her dreams.
    Monica pinched some color back into her face and squared her shoulders. She would say her good-byes, apologize to Eric Mitchell, and call it a night. No more bathroom stalls for her tonight. She’d pee when she got home.
    Â 
    How do you confess to someone that you’ve used them? Is it right to do it in the back of a limo idling outside your apartment building? Do you call them the next day to avoid doing it face-to-face and endure being called every nasty name under the sun, all of which you deserved? Neither option seemed palatable to Monica, which left inviting Eric up to her apartment for a coffee, and facing the drubbing she had coming to her.
    â€œWould you like to come in for a ni—coffee?” Shit, she’d almost said nightcap . Did people even say nightcap anymore? They did on W and F , which is why she almost slipped. Characters were always inviting each other in for nightcaps, where one of them would pour brandy from a cut crystal decanter sitting on a brass drink trolley. Monica had never met anyone in her life that had a drink trolley. She needed to talk to the exec producer about this. It was one of the anachronisms that helped make daytime a butt of jokes.
    Eric’s eyes flickered with intrigue as he accepted her offer. Maybe this was a mistake. She still had her mace with her in case Mr. Hyde reemerged.
    â€œDid you have a good time?” she asked Eric in the elevator as it rose twenty-seven stories up into the sky.
    â€œIt was weird,” said Eric, loosening his bow tie.
    â€œBecause Chim Chim couldn’t sign his name the way you expected?”
    Eric ignored the barb. “Because you’re all so phony with each other.”
    Monica blinked. “Excuse me?”
    â€œAll that air kissing and ‘Darling, you look stunning,’ and ‘Isn’t so-and-so wonderful,’ and ‘Yes, we must to get together. ’And then the minute someone turns their back, you’re all whispering about how their ass looks enormous and did he have work done and whom did she blow to get that movie part. It’s kind of sickening.”
    â€œAs sickening as you crawling up the ass of everyone at the table, telling them how much you love their characters?” Monica snapped.
    â€œI do!”
    â€œYou were being just as disingenuous as anyone else. I heard you tell Gloria she didn’t look a day over fifty.”
    â€œI was trying to be nice! I was trying to be a good date!”
    Monica gritted her teeth. “Escort.”
    â€œYou said date when you introduced me,” Eric maintained stubbornly.
    The elevator doors slid open. “If I’d said escort , it would have sounded like I was paying you.”
    Eric touched her cheek. “I can think of ways for you to pay me.”
    Monica jerked away from him. “Jesus,” she hissed, storming to her apartment and throwing open the door. Bad idea, having him up here. Bad, bad idea. Christ, she wished she did have a drink trolley. She’d drink the brandy straight out of the decanter.
    Eric followed, closing the door behind him. “I was just trying to be a good date,” he repeated. He regarded her coolly. “You’re not the only one who can act, you

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