by Rebecca Foxx
“Hey, girl!” it was Shawnee.
That voice snapped Jacqueline back to the present. She remembered why she’d come back inside.
“I was looking all over for you,” Shawnee said. “I thought that maybe you’d run off with a hot guy or caught wind of a juicy story.”
Jacqueline’s face turned red. She lowered her eyes. Shawnee noticed the sudden change that had come over her but she didn’t say anything, sparing Jacqueline further embarrassment.
“No, I just had to take a personal call. Have you met any eligible bachelors?” Jacqueline said.
“Not yet, but I wanted to ask you something,” Shawnee said, her face lighting up.
Jacqueline couldn’t wait to hear what crazy thing Shawnee had come up with now. This definitely wasn’t the first time that she’d seen her colleagues face light up like that.
“What is it?” Jacqueline asked. “Don’t make me wait any longer.”
Shawnee peered around the packed, star-studded room, then looked at Jacqueline conspiratorially.
“I heard a rumor that Michael Keegan was here,” Shawnee screeched and covered her mouth.
For a moment Jacqueline feared that some sort of joke was being played on her. She kept her eyes fixed on Shawnee. Is she making fun of me? Jacqueline wondered. Does she already know about my relationship with Michael and this is her way of mocking my attempts at secrecy?
“I know you don’t know him,” Shawnee said. “But I was wondering if maybe you’d seen him around. I think I’m gonna fall right over and die when I see that man.”
Jacqueline kept her eyes locked on her colleague for a few moments without saying anything. Shawnee was giggling with excitement, like she was a little girl with a crush. Jacqueline couldn’t help being annoyed. She didn’t like when women behaved like that. It just seemed so silly to her! And the fact that it was Michael who was inspiring the immature behavior made it even more annoying. She wasn’t interested in spending much more time with Shawnee. She wanted to get back outside with Michael. She looked forward to continuing their conversation.
“I haven’t seen him,” Jacqueline said. “But don’t worry, I’ll be sure to scream out when I do. I probably won’t be able to keep myself from putting my hands all over him.”
Shawnee frowned dramatically and placed a hand on her hip. “You better not lay a finger on that man. That’s my future baby daddy.”
Jacqueline nearly fell over. She had a strong urge to say something mean and insulting to Shawnee. Something that she would never be able to take back. But after a few moments she was able to regain her composure.
“Girl, I’m gonna go get us both some more to drink. I’ll be right back so don’t go running off.”
But running off was the only thing that Jacqueline had on her mind. She swiped a couple of hors d’oeuvres off a passing tray and hurried back outside to see Michael.
He was nowhere in sight. She felt a pit in her stomach and disappointment took hold of her. She spun around frantically. Where could he have possibly gone? She’d only been inside for a few minutes. She thought that he’d just been kidding about the running off with another girl thing. But maybe that’s what he actually did.
She sighed bitterly and crossed her arms against her chest. That was just like Michael. Whenever you thought that he’d finally grown up, shaken off his boyish ways, he did something to remind you that he had not in fact changed.
There was no sense waiting around for him and she didn’t want to go back inside. She flagged down a cab and headed back to her apartment. On the way home Jacqueline recalled the history she had with Michael.
Jacqueline was one of only three black girls in her high school. This made her both and object of desire and an outcast. Most of the popular white girls and white guys distanced themselves from her – not Michael. With Michael he always talk to her like a person, unlike most other white boys who wanted the bragging rights of scoring with a black girl. It would be comical if it weren’t so lame. They would try and act black-ish to win her affections and would talk like gangsters thinking that she was the ghetto type. Jacqueline had nothing disrespectful to say about the ghetto, however, she had upscale tastes and sophisticated tendencies. She had a thing for Porsches not Pontiacs.
Michael always talked to her like she was exotic, more like a treasure instead of a trophy. He would compliment her right in front of the most popular girls. She recalled the time when Michael put this cheerleader Linda Hampton in her place. Linda always showed arrogance towards Jacqueline. With a smirk on her face, Jacqueline reminisced about being in the courtyard, as a group of students were heading back towards the doors leading into the cafeteria. Michael swung the door open and waved as if he was a gentleman gesturing Linda to walk through the open door. As Linda was attempting to pass Jacqueline in order to reach the door first, Michael put up his hand and said, “Stop, isn’t the rule, Tyra Banks before Tyra Skanks?” Everyone except Linda Hampton was laughing. Jacqueline still remembers that look Michael gave her as he let her through the door.
The only thing that Jacqueline could think about all weekend was Michael. She thought that maybe he would have texted or called to make sure that she got home all right after he ditched her. But that was too much of an effort. Maybe Michael had become a selfish, egomaniacal jerk and this type of arrogance came a lot more naturally to him than being a kind, considerate, thoughtful gentleman.
She hated herself for it, but she had a burning curiosity to check out Michael’s Instagram. She was both afraid and oddly excited to know what he’d posted over the last few days. She hoped that maybe she would be able to find some sort of coded message meant especially for her amongst all the crazy posts that he was known for. It wasn’t as if he posted pics of any kind of illegal activity on Instagram. There were actually people stupid enough to continue doing that, even after they’d seen others get arrested. No, his posts were all about eye-catching consumption and one of the things that he absolutely loved consuming was a woman.
She scrolled through the pics that he’d posted over the last couple days: Every one had at least three half-naked, slutty looking chicks.
So apparently he hasn’t been sitting at home worrying about me, Jacqueline said to herself bitterly. But why did she care about whether or not he was thinking about her? She knew that she was definitely blowing things out of proportion. He probably had a very good explanation for why he had to leave so abruptly and why he hadn’t bothered to contact her since. She couldn’t wait to hear what that explanation was, because until she did she would most likely continue to drive herself crazy imagining all sorts of different scenarios.
Chapter 2
For the first time in a very long time, Jacqueline was greatly relieved when her alarm began ringing early Monday. She couldn’t wait to get to work. Time in the office would allow her to block Michael completely out of her mind. Or at least that’s what she thought. She could never have imagined just how wrong she would turn out to be.
Jacqueline, please come down to my office,” That was the voice of Jacqueline’s editor, Miriam Goldberg.
Miriam had worked in the NYC gossip game for decades. But she’d never left the newsroom. That’s where she felt right at home. She was old fashioned in a sense but in terms of adapting to the latest technologies she was ahead of almost ninety percent of people in the publishing game. She was always bringing leading entrepreneurs and thinkers to speak to her cadre of writers and editors. She wanted the paper to continue to thrive, no matter how much technology and social media shifted and transformed the publishing landscape. She wanted to remain the top gossip section in the city. And for almost the last fifteen years she had. But she could feel that grip slipping. She did everything in her power to stay abreast of the latest publishing industry innovations. No matter how hard she tried to keep up or how much praise she got for being so forward thinking in a conservative industry, she always felt like she was one step behind. She always felt the wolves at her back.
> She’d grown up in the Bronx in an Irish and Italian neighborhood. Her family was Jewish. She learned to deal with prejudice at a young age. It had made her a tougher and more determined person. When she looked at Jacqueline, she saw some of herself: the grit, the independence, the intelligence, and a bit of sass on top. But it went beyond that. She could also recognize in Jacqueline a mistrust of men, or love itself. That was something that she had dealt with for many years. And then she met Tristan. And for the first time she felt whole and satisfied in a relationship. It was an amazing feeling and one that she had nearly given up hope of ever feeling.
“Take a seat,” Miriam said.
Jacqueline sat down and put her hands on her lap. She never knew what to do with her hands when Miriam summoned her. She could never tell exactly what angle Miriam was going to come from. She could be sweet like a grandmother. And other times she could be a female preying mantis hungry to rip someone’s head off. Despite that unpredictability, Jacqueline had always had a really good vibe about this petite brunette with amber eyes who spoke with an unmistakable New York accent.
“Jackie, I’ve got an assignment for you.”
Jacqueline eased to the edge of her seat. She couldn’t wait to hear what Miriam had cooking for her.
“Jacqueline, I’ve always been a fan of the work you’ve done here at the paper. You’re one of our upcoming stars.”
Jacqueline lowered her head and blushed. She knew that Miriam wasn’t the kind of person to give out compliments lightly. She would only say something like that if she truly believed it.
“Thank you,” she replied. “I try to give each story my best possible effort.”
“That’s exactly why I’ve chosen you to handle this next big story. This will be the breakout opportunity that you’ve been looking for. I might not be able to hold onto you for long after this story hits the presses. That’s how hot the demand for you is going to be.”
Jacqueline was on the edge of her seat. She couldn’t wait to hear what Miriam was going to tell her.
As it turned out the paper was in the process of investing heavily in its web, social media, and mobile distribution channels. Part of this new investment plan was the creation of a spin off web site devoted entirely to celebrity gossip and entertainment news.
“We’re looking for a team of writers,” Miriam said. “If you nail this first story I would make you the lead writer. You’ll get all the best celebs to interview. And we’ll be sure to promote you as one of our rising stars.”
Fifteen minutes later, Jacqueline walked out of Miriam’s office in a daze. She walked to a water fountain and took a long slow sip.
She had no idea how she was going to explain this to Michael.
Chapter 3
Michael plopped down on the plush couch in his Upper East Side apartment. He’d just returned from his 8 mile run along the East River. That’s the way he started his day, legs and arms pumping, his feet pounding the pavement while many still slept. He felt at peace during those runs. It was the only time of day, right after the crack of dawn, that he could run without worrying about the paparazzi bothering him. It was also the only time during the entire day when he didn’t have at least one phone with him. That was no small matter. There was always someone trying to pitch him and investment idea and there were legions of girls who flooded his phone with racy selfies and promises of what they would do the next time they met up.
Both of his iPhones kept beeping and buzzing like crazy. Not surprisingly he had received about fifty texts and twenty-five calls while he’d been on his run. There would be plenty of time to take care of that business.
Then he noticed one message that seemed really urgent repeated over and over again: CALL ME!!!!!
It was from one of his lawyers. He immediately got the feeling that he was in for a very long day.
His lawyer’s office was on Park and Lexington. He hopped in the shower and headed down there. He hoped that it was just his lawyer being a little paranoid about a harmless piece of bad press. Unfortunately for him it would turn out to be quite a bit more serious than that.
Richard Westerson was one of NYC’s highest profile lawyers. He often took on younger clients because he liked to play a parental role, providing wisdom and guidance for the young and the famous. He had a special sort of affection for them. It didn’t hurt that they were the only people who could afford his $400 an hour fee.
“You couldn’t keep that thing in your pants for one freaking night?” Richard said with a look of disgust. “You should have known that woman was trouble from the first time that you laid eyes on her. Nothing but bad news.”
“What’s this all about?” Michael asked. He really had no clue what woman Richard was talking about. There were plenty of women in his life that fit that description.
“This is about the tabloids getting hold of racy photos of you with the governor’s wife Genevive Scallione. Do you happen to remember the time that you spent with that Mediterranean bombshell? Or was that just another day in the life of a playboy for you?
Michael hesitated before answering. He couldn’t believe what Richard had just told him. His past antics had cost him over hundred and fifty thousand in public relation fees after someone began live streaming a naked pool party at his East Hampton estate. And of course he’d always gotten tons of press—some good, some bad about his romantic life. He’d been able to take all that in stride. He was a tall masculine man packing a big dick and a huge bank account. Thus he could buy women whatever they wanted and give them the size of dick they dreamed of. So very few men were able to compete with him in the realm of seduction.
“If they release those pictures then it’s going to be very hard for you to do business in New York,” Richard said. “There were so many other women at that event, why’d you have to go and sleep with the Governor’s wife?”
Michael had never cared for the tough-talking governor who seemed to carry himself more like a gangster than a politician.
“How do we know that they actually have the photos? Maybe it’s a bluff. It wouldn’t be the first time.”
Richard shook his head sadly. “Michael, you’re going to have to get your shit together.”
He banged a few keys on his laptop, then spun the screen around toward Michael.
“Click through the pics that they sent me,” Richard said.
For the next few minutes Michael clicked through the numerous photos that showed him getting very frisky with the governor’s wife, a 29 year-old former model with a great pair of fake tits and the nicest Botoxed lips that money could buy.
Michael’s mouth went dry. This was bad. Really bad. The governor had a reputation for being bloodthirsty when it came to revenge. He would never allow someone to cross him twice. Michael hoped that his money would be able to protect him. That’s what had gotten him out of trouble so many times before.
“How much are they asking?” Michael said. “Whatever they want, I’ll pay it. Let’s just get this shit over with. I don’t want this thing hanging over me.”
Richard frowned and shook his head. “This time that’s not going to work.”
“What do they want?” Michael snapped.
“They want you.”
“What does that mean?”
“They want to do some kind of in-depth story on you. They’ll have a reporter follow you around for two weeks or so. They want a little bit of substance. And a lot of flash.”
“So they’re threatening to run one story on me, if I don’t give them all access to my life. What publication is this? They’ve got some nerve.”
“Daily News,” Richard said. “Miriam Goldberg is back at it again.”
“The same old Page 6 gossip lady that’s been there forever?” Michael asked.
Richard nodded his head slowly. “That’s right. There’s no way that she’s going to back down from her demands. You are the it-guy right now, and you can either stay the it-guy or turn into the shit-guy”
Mic
hael rubbed his forehead. He could feel his temples beginning to pound. Why couldn’t he just live his life like any normal guy? Why did he always have to walk around, afraid that he might be photographed doing something that he wasn’t supposed to be doing or deep down inside, didn’t really want to do? It was New York. Rich people were always doing things that they weren’t supposed to.
One way or another he was going to have to get his hands on those pictures. There was no way that he would allow them to go public. There was too much at stake for him to let that happen.
