August

“I think you have a new challenge in your hands,” Melanie tells me over the phone. I scroll through the entries on my laptop, looking for any new problems that I might've missed.

“Oh really?” I reply. “I think it's handled, actually. Taylor Swift dropped that new song just in time, and everybody's attention moved away.”

“Lucky for you, wasn't it?” Melanie says wryly.

She's right, it was lucky for me, but I'm not going to admit that. Somehow, I’m going to make it seem like it was all part of my plan.

“Everything seems to have a way of working out, Melanie. So, we just have a few more days with Kirkman here in town. Can we just try to lay low and get to the end of this thing? Maybe without going nuclear?”

I hear her tapping, maybe on the edge of her desk, maybe on her steering wheel. Melanie is always going somewhere, doing something.

Kirkman is actually not her only client, so I never really feel like he's got one hundred percent of her attention. I suspect that she plays the celebrities off each other, creating collisions like billiard balls so somebody's always in motion, always spinning toward the edge.

She sighs for a long time. I use this pause to double and triple check my lists. But currently, there’s nothing important to take care of. Crisis averted.

Kirkman really did look like he was going to be trending, and then Taylor Swift knocked him right out of the air. Suddenly everybody was downloading her video, posting their comments, and sharing the reactions of a half dozen other stars who wanted to hitch their wagons to Taylor's meteoric rise.

In less than twenty-four hours, her new song was the most downloaded song on iTunes. It was the most played video on YouTube. She has a lot of influence. I'll bet Kirkman's seriously jealous, but the plain fact is that he doesn’t have nearly that kind of firepower.

“Well, that's the thing I wanted to talk to you about,” she continues. “He's got a weekend at MGM National Harbor coming up now. You need to get him out of town.”

“MGM, in Maryland? Are you kidding me?”

“Why the fuck would I joke about Maryland? It’s our least funny state.”

“When did this come up? I was not informed.”

“It’s all Kirkman’s idea. Talk to him. He thought a surprise show was a good idea and I can’t say I disagree.”

I don't need to remind her that my contract was for this location, creating a security detail around this studio, these penthouses, this situation. She knows. She also knows that I don't have time to plan a new detail for the weekend. It's going to be all seat of the pants kind of stuff.

My least favorite kind of stuff.

“Melanie, this is highly unusual,” I start, grinding my molars together to try to keep my voice even. “I need to make travel arrangements, get a whole new manifest of entourage personnel approved, reconnoiter the lodging —”

“— sounds like you got it exactly right,” she snaps. “Just make it happen, August. At the end of this, he'll be totally out of your hair anyway.”

Well, that is a relief, I think to myself. At least there is a silver lining on this thundercloud.

“It's practically impossible,” I inform her.

She sighs again, dragging it out so long it's practically an opera.

“You know Lori Coleman?”

“Of course I know Lori Coleman,” I reply, suspicious. “Why would you ask me that?”

“Oh, I had an interesting conversation with her this morning, is all,” she sighs. “Are you guys friends?”

I don't think that I appreciate the playful tone in Melanie's voice. I feel like I know exactly what she's going to say, but I still want to hear her say it, just to make sure.

“We're competitors, Melanie. I assume you already know that.”

“Oh, hold on,” she snaps distractedly. “Let me just get through this tunnel.”

The line seems to go down for a second, but I'm not sure that's true. She may just have switched over to another phone call. Or she might just be fucking with me. At this point, it's hard to tell. In any case, this brief silence gives me an opportunity to get truly pissed about what Melanie is insinuating.

Of course I'm not to give up the contract to Lori Coleman. That would be ridiculous. But an even bigger question is, how did the communication even occur between them? Did Lori contact Melanie? Or vice versa?

Does Lori realize that Kirkman is in town?

The implications of the question make me see red. There are only a few different ways that Lori could've found out that don't involve Dahlia or Bunny.

They both better hope that one of those ways is how Lori found out. They better not be involved.

“Okay, back,” Melanie tells me. “What was I saying?”

“You're asking if I knew Lori Coleman,” I remind her.

“Oh, right! Well… it's probably nothing. But if you don't think you can get the detail together to go to MGM with Kirkman —”

“I'll handle it,” I cut her off.

“You sure?” she says sweetly. “Because I could just go ahead and call Lori —”

“— it's handled. Talk soon.”

I disconnect the call and carefully put my phone down so I don't accidentally smash it. I'd like to get to the bottom of this immediately, but I might need to take a breath for twenty or thirty seconds to make sure I’ve got everything under control.

Instead, I find myself opening Instagram.

What are you wearing? I ask her.

A pink dress and sandals, she texts back immediately.

No, underneath, I continue. Tell me about your panties.

…

Also pink, she texts back after a ten second hesitation.

Show me.

They’re lace, she continues. Stretchy and tight.

I don't want you to tell me. I want you to show me.

…

I shouldn't be so forceful, I know it. I’m trying to keep my tone light, but I just want her obedience. I just want to feel that feedback loop of pleasure. I just want her to fucking obey me.

After a few more seconds, a picture appears. Again, it's the slanted angle of a camera that’s being furtively shoved between her thighs. The pink of the panties is pale, I can tell, but in the shadows, it looks dark like a candy drop. Slightly translucent, and I can almost see the fluff of hair behind it.

I want you to touch yourself, I tell her. I want to know that you're making yourself wet.

Okay.

Do it, I command her. Are you doing it?

In a few moments, I get another picture. Similar angle, but this time there is more light. Her skirt is drawn back, and her fingers are buried within her panties. I see the strain her hand, see the outline of her knuckles as her fingertips are hidden between her juicy, plump folds.

My hand drifts down, and I find my cock already hard and pulsing. Staring at the photo, I spread my fingers to expand it until it is as close up as I can get. My groan fills my chest as I fist my cock, bringing myself to a clenching, explosive climax, fueled by frustration and longing.

When I'm done, I realize that I'm glad that she obeyed me, but I don't feel satisfied. Like a drug, I need more. It is just a taste, and that only makes me hungrier. Every time we communicate, it's just another morsel. Another tease… another taunt.

This is not the path to satisfaction, not like this. I need more. I'm not some pimply teenager who is going to be happy beating off to the fantasy of a girl. I need a real woman, the real satisfaction of a live woman underneath me.

When can we meet?

…

I scowl at the phone, waiting for her to answer.

What's your name?

Who is this?

She doesn't answer right away, and I set the phone down, counting to ten, then ten more, then ten more. I might be overreacting, but this is on my nerves. If it's Trina, the game has gone long enough. Even if it's anybody else, the game has gone on long enough.

Soon, she finally says.

Soon what?

Soon we can meet. I promise.

I want to throw the phone. What the fuck does soon mean anyway? It’s just one of those stupid things people say to each other, a fairytale about a meeting that doesn't actually exist. It’s not even a real time. Some made up word that means not right now.

Instead I close Instagram and scroll through my contacts, looking for Dahlia’s cell phone number. I find it and pause for a moment considering what to say to her. I do not want to come off badly, considering the foul mood that Melanie has put me in. But I need to take care of this, right away.