As I made my way into the gym and pulled my iPod from my pocket, I wondered how long it would take to lure Annie into shedding her clothes. They disguised her well, but I’d noticed the subtle curve of her waist and breasts. She would be exquisite when I got her bare, such a contrast to the plain, dowdy way in which I’m sure she thought most people perceived her. And despite the fact that it frustrated me, there was something about her timidity that appealed to me on a very base level. I could just imagine how easily she’d…submit.
My thoughts were making me way too excited for 8:00 a.m. I briefly considered a long shower instead of a workout, but I struggled onward. Perhaps hitting the treadmill extra hard would work off some of the sexual frustration. Firing up my iPod, I selected my favorite workout playlist and started at a slow jog. “The Final Countdown” came on, putting me instantly in the zone.
Mullets and questionably tight pants aside, the best music in the world was ’80s rock, and I had no qualms about admitting it. I didn’t want music that was maudlin and depressing—I wanted music that put me in a good mood and made the world look a little bit brighter.
Two hours later I was showered, dressed, and on my way to my second meeting at Davidson & Croft. Joan had scheduled it with me yesterday, assuring me that Annie would be there. And yeah, I had kind of made it a requirement for my participation and attendance. I mean, the only reason I was doing this was because I wanted to get to know her. If I could clean up my rep while getting into Annie’s curvaceous knickers, then I’d be one happy, sexually sated camper.
Much to my irritation, when I arrived at the offices, I was ushered into a small conference room with Rachel and Ian, and there was no Annie in sight.
“Where’s Annie?” I said, folding my arms and leveling my stare at Rachel. She seemed to be more open to chatting than the stern-faced Ian.
Rachel shuffled her papers. She looked a little nervous. “Oh, she might be in later. Annie doesn’t always work at the office.”
I leaned forward, eager for more information. “Where else does she work?”
“From home. Aside from Joan, none of us really know her that well, but from what I’ve heard, she’s a bit of a hermit. The brilliant ones are always a little odd, you know.”
“Brilliant ones?”
“Well, yeah, Annie can singlehandedly turn your public image around. Remember that Oscar winner who nearly ran over an eighty-year-old lady when he was drunk?”
“Eh, no….”
Rachel grinned. “Exactly. Annie buries the bad and either exalts or manufactures the good, placing accomplishments on a bright, shining pedestal—with a spotlight no one can ignore. I’ve never seen anything like it, and I’ve been in this business for a long time.”
I briefly wondered if Annie thought it was ethical to cover up stuff like that or if she just did it because it was her job. Something about her made me think that, unlike the privileged and distinguished background I was reported to have, Annie was a lot like me. Coming from nothing but trying to build a solid place in the world, willing to do things she didn’t necessarily agree with in order to survive. I bear the name Fitzpatrick, but I have never been accepted by my father’s family. They didn’t approve when my dad married my mother, a girl of no means and no social standing. So, when I was just a kid and he died in a car crash, they basically disowned me and Lucy.
I kept my voice disinterested, conversational, and pushed Rachel for more information. “Where’d she learn to do that?”
“She graduated top of her class at Wharton.” Rachel’s grin widened, like she was proud of Annie’s accomplishments.
“Wharton? Isn’t that Ivy League in the States? Like those twats from Cambridge and Oxford?” I knew I sounded unimpressed. I was disappointed at the thought that Annie was a blue blood.
Rachel shrugged, though she looked amused, like she was trying not to laugh. “Something like that.”
I scowled. “So, she’s a bit of a snob, then? Comes from a rich family?”
She vigorously shook her head. “God, no. Not at all. I think she grew up in Scranton.” Rachel wrinkled her nose as though the word “Scranton” tasted like piss. “She just likes to keep to herself, and like I said, she’s completely brilliant at what she does. She had her pick of firms around the world trying to win her over, but she chose us. That’s why Joan allows her eccentricities. We all know we’re lucky to have her.”
I stared at Rachel, thinking about all of this.
Growing up, we had very little. Ma had to work hard to put me through Belvedere, the same school Dad had attended, and I’d always be grateful to her for that. I wondered who had worked hard to help Annie go to Wharton.
“So, Mr. Fitzpatrick,” Ian began, all business, “Rachel and I have put together the preliminary proposal, and I’d like to run through it with you if that’s all right?”
“Sure, go ahead,” I replied, shrugging, and that was my cue to zone out.
Ian seemed to be slowly losing his temper as I continually clicked a pen while he spoke. He could get as angry as he wanted. Joan had promised me Annie would be here today. So I was feeling a little bit conned with the whole “no Annie” situation.
“We’d like you to attend a few high-profile film premieres and awards ceremonies over the coming weeks. Having you photographed on the red carpet will get you featured in magazines and on websites, put you on the radar, so to speak,” said Ian before glancing down at the papers in front of him and continuing under his breath, “so we should look into vetting potential dates for you.”
“Oh,” Rachel said excitedly, “I’m on good terms with Taylor Swift’s people. Perhaps I could get you an intro.” She glanced at Ian. “Is she single right now?”
Ian shrugged. On the inside, I was pissed at the idea of being set up like that; on the outside, I took the piss.
“You know who I’ve always had a thing for, that Rosie O’Donnell. You think she’d be up for a bit of the young stuff?”
Rachel obviously didn’t understand sarcasm because she gave me a confused look. “Um, I’m pretty sure she’s a lesbian. And that’s not really the image we’re going for. You need to date someone young and attractive, someone the press really likes.”
At that moment the door swung open, and Joan stuck her head in. “Hello again, Mr. Fitzpatrick. Are you being well taken care of?”
I cocked my head to her. “I thought Annie was going to be here.”
Joan frowned for a moment. “She was supposed to be.” She glanced at Ian. “Didn’t Annie show up today?”
“I haven’t seen her,” he replied.
“Well…isn’t that curious.” And with that she left the room.
I looked back to Rachel and Ian. “I think we’re done here.”
“But Mr. Fitzpatrick, we still have to go over the rest of the preliminary proposal. We haven’t even covered the social media front and the planned press releases, and I would like your input at some point, too.”
I was already standing up. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll go to the premieres and all that. Just give me a few days’ warning so that I can make sure I’m available.”
“Of course,” said Rachel.
Ian didn’t argue further. To be honest, I thought he was glad to see the back of me. As I was making my way to the elevators, I was cut off by Joan. It was funny how a five-foot-nothing woman could come across so foreboding. I stopped and looked down at her. I wasn’t glaring, and I wasn’t scowling; but I was definitely emanating hostility.
“We made a deal, Mrs. Davidson.”
“That we did, and the deal is still on,” she said and handed me a small white business card. “This has all of Annie’s contact details. She’s been unexpectedly busy today, but said she’d like you to give her a call so that the two of you can arrange to meet.”