Sitting around the table in my father’s suite is reminiscent of yesterday. The only difference being the addition of two writers from our staff - Marco and Hal.

“Lilah, have you come up with any ideas since we spoke yesterday?” My dad asks, calling me out in front of everyone.

“No, because I imagine that’s what this meeting is for. And isn’t that the whole reason for the road trip you informed me I’m taking?”

“Surely you have some idea of what you want to do.” He ignores most of what I say, addressing only what he wants to. His words hang awkwardly in the air and the silence grows more uncomfortable with each passing second.

Jesse shifts in his chair; the frame creaks in protest as he angles his body toward mine. “I’m picking Lilah up bright and early Thursday morning. We’re going to nail down a concrete plan during the drive. We can even do a little filming on the trip, ‘on the road with Jesse and Lilah’.” Jesse jumps in and I’m momentarily shocked. I kick his foot under the table. I appreciate how he stepped up for me, but what he’s suggesting sounds like a nightmare.

“How about on the road with Jesse Gunn? Leave me out of this. I’m a behind the scenes kind of girl.”

“With that…” he pauses, eyes dropping to my breasts before climbing back to lock with mine, “face, you were born to be on camera,” Jesse, replies.

“This is a great idea. The possibilities are endless for what you could do with Jesse.”

I nod mutely. Fuck. This isn’t going to be good.

“Lilah can do anything she wants with me. Whatever’s best for WCW.” He turns his head to look at me. Humor sparks from his eyes, like flickering lights and the way the corner of his mouth twitches tells me his damn dimple is itching to make an appearance. It angers me. This is my job, not a joke for him to manipulate to suit his wants or needs.

I stomp on his foot under the table and he chuckles. I know my flip flop didn’t do any damage to his sneaker covered foot, but it made me feel slightly better. If I’m going to continue working with him, I might need to invest in a pair of steel toed boots. Those could inflict some damage for sure.

“Marco and Hal, can you prepare an updated script for Friday night’s show by tomorrow? I’d like to begin beefing up Jesse’s role as soon as possible.” They both nod and say yes sir like the good employees they are. No one ever goes against my father.

“How will this work exactly? I’m not on the clock twenty-four hours a day. Am I?” Sarcasm followed by an eye roll might not be what’s appropriate for a meeting with your boss, but that’s what works for me right now.

“Of course you’re not, but I know what a team player you are, Lilah. And as a team player, I’m sure you’ll agree we need to do whatever has to be done to make this reality footage the best it can be.” We? He angles his upper body, leaning forward. I’m not seated near him and his presence is still imposing; I feel as if he’s closer. “Therefore, you’ll do whatever the script calls for. Correct?” He raises an eyebrow in a show of obstinance.

“Yes, sir.” It’s not like I’m going to refuse to do something that’s going to be good for business. I just wish it involved anyone but Jesse.

“There’s my girl. I knew I could count on you.” His compliment serves to remind me how much I enjoy working with him. Even though he can be a pain in my ass.

“Tonight’s our last show here, and then tomorrow we can meet once we’re back in Connecticut. Lilah, rest up for the remainder of the day. You’re about to be one busy girl,” he chuckles, ominously.

* * *

Two days later

“Oh. My. God,” Carly is shocked when I answer the door. Her brown eyes bulge from her head like a cartoon character and her mouth opens and closes as she struggles to speak.

I throw my arms wide and glance down at myself. “I know. It’s a lot to take in.” Stepping back, I tug her inside my front entrance and close out the rest of the world. I never want to leave my house again.

She nods, her gaze slowly tracing over every inch of my face taking in my newly bleached blonde hair and makeup covered skin. And the icing on the cake is the spidery, fake black eyelashes that compromise my vision. How do people wear these things?

Her eyes move lower taking in the low cut, skin tight, hot pink t-shirt and my impressive cleavage completely on display. “Where did those come from?” she questions pointing at my boobs.

I snort at the absurdity of this moment. Gripping one breast in each hand I tell her, “these are mine, only with an industrial strength underwire bra holding them up.”

“I’ve never seen you wear anything so bright or tight,” she giggles at her rhyme like the dork she professes to be.

“That’s because I haven’t worn pink since I was four. You know how I feel about bright colors or color in general.”

“You like black, but technically that’s a color,” she informs, like the elementary school teacher she is while following me to the kitchen.

“Yes, I do. I wish I had more of it on right now. What do you want to drink? Water, soda, orange juice?”

“How about something stronger? I need some alcohol to deal with this outrageous version of you.”

I roll my eyes at her dramatics and walk to the fridge. Carly snickers behind me. “What?”

“Do you realize that your ass says Dat’ Booty on it?

“It does?”

“Yep,” she giggles.

Twisting my upper body around like a contortionist, I try to see my ass, but I’m not a fucking circus performer. The click of a picture being taken has me spinning around. “I’m not sure I want to see that.”

“Oh, trust me, you definitely want to see dat’.” Her eyes are mirth filled as she closes the small distance between us. I take her phone from her outstretched hand and gasp when I see the picture. Dat’ Booty is written in silver sequined letters across the width of my black booty shorts. Oh my God. This might be the most humiliating thing since this morning when I had my entire body waxed free of hair and then spray tanned.

Will the injustice never end?

Handing Carly her phone with a growl, I pull the orange juice out of the fridge. Slamming it down on the counter, I yank open the cabinet and try to grab two glasses, but my new one inch long fake nails are a fucking nuisance. They clink against the glass, making it difficult to get a solid grip. “Fuck this,” I mumble, slamming the cabinet shut in disgust.

I give up and pull two red solo cups out of the pantry and the bottle of vodka that’s remained unopened for six months. If ever there was a reason to drink, I think today qualifies. I forgo ice, in favor of not diluting my buzz and splash a generous amount of vodka in each cup before adding some orange juice. After giving each drink a quick stir with a spoon, I hand Carly’s off to her.

“Let’s drink to the new you,” she jests and we both laugh.

“Let’s not. Let’s drink to forgetting this day happened.”

We head outside to my back patio and sink down onto the sun warmed, cushioned loungers. “Are you going to tell me what brought all this on?” Carly inquires, waving her hand at me. After ten years of friendship, she knows this makeover is something I would never do without a reason.

“My father assigned me as head of finding new online content for WCW. Somehow that ended up meaning spending time with Jesse on camera.”

“Jesse-Jesse?”

“Yep, Jesse Gunn.”

“You mean Jesse - I’d like to see his big gun?” she titters.

My head rolls on the cushion until I can glare at her with narrowed eyes. “I’m glad you find this so amusing. My life is about to go to shit; but no worries.”

“Sounds like your life is about to get a lot more exciting. What could possibly be bad about spending time with Jesse?” She stares back at me. “Unless there’s something you’re not telling me.” She sits up and spins to face me, crossing her legs beneath her. “Spill it.”

“Fine,” I sigh. “Jesse kissed me the other day.”

“What?” she squeals and bounces her rear end up and down on the seat.

“He kissed me.”

“Oh wow. You lucky dog. You’re going to see Jesse’s gun.” She smirks.

“Shut up. I’m not going anywhere near his ‘gun’.”

“You say that now, but I bet Jesse can be really persuasive when it comes to his ‘gun’.”

“Can we stop talking about his ‘gun’?”

“But it’s so much fun.” She recognizes the annoyance on my face. “Okay fine. You’re a killjoy.”

“I never said I wasn’t.” I raise the cup to my lips and guzzle down half the mixture. I’ve never been a fan of screwdrivers, but today it’s not so bad.

“I’m still waiting for an explanation about this makeover.” She draws a small circle in the air with her pointer finger, targeting my face.

“I guess this is my father’s way of making sure I’m attractive enough to be seen. The girls from the costume design department just left.”

“You’re shitting me. Are you going to be on camera?” She laughs so hard she snorts and almost loses her glasses from their precarious perch on her pert nose.

“I told you I was going to shadow Jesse. There’s not a chance in hell I’m going on camera.”

“So you say. When is the first episode going to air?”

“I don’t know, why?”

“I’m setting my dvr up. There’s no way I’m missing that.”