Zachary David Productions Read Free

rather drop you at a hotel.”
    “My destination is just around the corner from Jackson Square.”
    Misty nodded, “Jackson Square it is.”
    At the square, various performers and artists were scattered about and there was one particular piano player who’d drawn quite a crowd. Crowds were good—crowds made Cammie feel safe. She reached into her pocket and pulled out five dollars to offer Misty for the trek down to the French Quarter—the offer still cheaper by far than if she’d taken the bus.
    Misty swatted her hand away. “Put your money away.”
    Cammie complied and sent up a blessing for her peculiar new friend whose blue eyes burned into her. “Take care of yourself, and for your information, most of the Catholic churches in town will put you up for a night or two. One could move around the city and probably live simply for some time making use of the church in such a way.”
    That was good information. Cammie thanked Misty and then set out toward her destination, enjoying the lilting piano notes as they escorted her through the streets of the French Quarter.
    Walking up Decatur Street she passed the donut café, the smell causing saliva to stir in her mouth.
    Along her journey she received several bumps on her shoulders from intoxicated patrons as they passed each other on the sidewalk. One especially inebriated man spilled his beer down the front of her shirt, making her even colder and wetter than she’d been. The further east she went, the more the crowds started to thin, until she was ultimately alone. Finally, she made the turn onto St. Ferdinand Street that would take her to her destination.
    When she reached the barred and shuttered duplex, she climbed the three steps and stood before the door. Inhaling deeply, she knocked. She noticed a pretty blue lantern nailed to the house next to the door. If it were on it would have provided nice lighting over the porch, but instead she waited in darkness. She knocked again and soon saw her blonde friend through the inlaid window on the door.
    The door cracked open as if it hadn’t been worked in years and Priscilla reached her arms around Cammie.
    “Oh, my God. Cammie.” Priscilla hugged her tightly. “You must be freezing. Get in here.”
    “Thanks. I hope I’m not too late.”
    “Too late? Gage won’t even be home until after three.”
    Cammie followed her friend down the dark paneled hallway and into the living area of the home where a television was tuned to a popular reality show.
    “You want a beer?”
    Cammie wasn’t quite twenty yet, but knew Priscilla had just turned legal age. “No thanks.”
    Her eyes followed Priscilla as she disappeared around a corner, returning a few seconds later with a bottle of beer in hand.
    Cammie sat in a wooden glider chair while Priscilla lounged on the couch, her brown eyes focused on the television. “So, you made it.”
    “Yeah, thanks for letting me stay here.”
    “Sure.” Priscilla shrugged.
    She sipped from the bottle and kept her stare on the tube. “So he was coming on to you or what?”
    Cammie fidgeted and pushed the glider chair to its max. “Among other things.”
    “Well it’s good you left then.”
    Cammie nodded her agreement. “You said there might be a way to make some good money?”
    Priscilla leaned forward to dig through her purse. She then passed a business card to Cammie.
    Zachary David Productions
    (504) 723-5445
    This was the job?
    Did Priscilla think Cammie would actually do this type of thing?
    Had Priscilla made a film for Zach?
    Did Priscilla know that Cammie already worked for Zach in a cleaning capacity?
    “It’s porn but pays extremely well. More depending on what you’re willing to do.” Her brown eyes pinned Cammie. “Two to three grand.” Priscilla pointed her index finger at Cammie. “That kind of dough can get you set up in this town—get you into an apartment and a car. Then you can do whatever you want.”
    “Is that what you did?”
    She took a large swig