Stilettos & Scoundrels Read Free Page A

what I really wanted out of life. Granted, Trevor’s was a small magazine, but it was something. Maybe being fired was a sign. M aybe the forces were telling me I should take this opportunity . M aybe this was my fate , t o be a sta rving writer sacrificing for my craft because I could handle starving ? Let’s do this, I thought. Excited ly , and before I could fully realize the consequences of my actions, I dialed T revor’s number at work. Then I panicked a little. What was I thinking? I was just about to hang up when he answered.
    “This is Trevor.”
    Shit, I thought, I couldn’t hang up now. What if he had caller I.D. at the office?
    “Hello?” he said again.
    “Hey, Trevor. It’s Presley.”
    “Hey, girl! What’s up? Did you call to meet for lunch, because if so I am swamped today and don’t think I can swing it. I think I am f ree tomorrow. Let me check.” I heard him rustling papers in his desk.
    “No, actually, that’s not why I called. Remember last week at Muldoon’s when you mentioned the job opening you had for your human-interest column? Well, I wanted to see if that was still open.”
    There was a brief pause on the other end and all of a sudden bad thoughts start ed running through my head. What if he only offered me the job because he th ought I would never do it? M aybe it had been the martinis talking; Trevor was a bit of a lightweight. What if he regretted saying it altogether and had been thankfu l that I had turned it down? I w as just about to try to back my way out of the call and pretend I was kidding so I didn’t feel like an idiot, when Trevor finally responded.
    “Presley, I think that’s great. But what changed your mind? You seemed so sure you didn’t want to do this because you know I can hardly pay anything for this position.”
    “It’s not that I didn’t want to, I just didn’t think I could afford to , but all that’s changed. I was fired. So my day job is no longer an obstacle and some mone y is better than none,” I said, trying to sound cheerful, although honestly it was n’t taking much effort since I real ly wasn’t bothered by losing my job, just bothered about being unemployed with no money. M aybe , if I were lucky, that would soon be changing to employed with no money .
    “Good for you, Pres! You said you hated that job anyway. Well, let me fill you in on the details.”
    ******
    I got off the phone so ela ted, I wante d to do cartwheels. This was my chance , my big break to be a writer . E ven if it was for a small online magazine, it was a start. The story was to be about Senator Tom Daniels, an up-and-comer in the political arena who many felt should run for president in the next election. Coincide ntly, he happened to be from my ho metown, Alkon, Illinois. I didn’t particularly like Senator Daniels; or rather, it was his view on politics I didn’t like. Who was I kidding? I really didn’t care much about politics one way or another. I just tried to fake it i n certain social settings so I wouldn’t seem so shallow, which Trevor knew , so he must have been desperate to ask me . However, what I had heard about Senator Daniels, both in the paper a nd from my parents, wasn’t always favorable. There was suspicion that he cheated on his wife and one instance of being accused of taking bribes. Nothing had ever been proven in either of these instances , but it still hung over his head. However, for a politician this type of stuff was normal , so it faded away quickly.
    When Trevor first offered this writing job to me , I was excited and accepted the assignment without hesitation. When I had ten minutes to think about it, I wondered what I had be en thinking. I wasn’t a writer, and I certainly wasn’t a political writer . Arg! I was much more of a People or OK magazine gal. Sometimes I should really think about things be fore committing to them. I tended to leap into things without think ing them through. My motto was always “ I’ll figure it out