Page 134 of Catfish

A muscle twitches in her jaw because she knows that I’m fully aware she’s in this room against her will—to save my ass.

“The food,” she rallys. “The cooks got food poisoning from it.”

"You hired people that don't know how to cook food right?" I return with furrowed brows while it takes everything in me not to crack a smile at the way her jaw just ticked.

“Can it wait a few more minutes?” Lexi asks softly. “I just have a few more questions.”

Reagan’s eyes fall on my guest, giving her a once-over before slamming her gaze into mine.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Reagan alleges slowly. “I didn’t know that this was...it is that day, isn't it?"

“What day?” I inquire.

“Did I get the day wrong?” Reagan returns, checking her wrist for a watch that isn’t there. “I swear it was on Wednesdays. That’s the day you close the blinds and—”

“Wait—no,” Lexi voices, promptly understanding what she’s implying. “I’m a blogger for the Red, White, and Blue. I’m not here for—I’m not here for anything else that you might be referring to.”

I’m going to kill this woman.

“Oh,” Reagan quips, wringing her hands together.

She never does that. She doesn't show when she's nervous, so this is just a little act to make a petty point.

I’ve been ignoring her.

She's been trying to get work done, and I'm not making it easy on her, taking two to three days to respond to her emails or text messages.

That’s what Emmy is for because I don’t have regular conversations with the party planner.

“It’s just that your dress,” Reagan continues, bending her index finger up and down.

Lexi looks down at it. “What about it?”

“The low-cut bodice, the way it fits you like a glove.”

"You made your point, Miss Shelton," I interject. "You can leave, and I'll be with you in a moment."

Reagan looks over Lexi again. “Alright, that’s usually all you need anyways. I’ll be outside with Emmy.”

I hear a soft gasp from Lexi and see a victorious Reagan as she strides out of my office, thinking she’s embarrassed me when all she did was do me a favor.

“I apologize,” I offer, standing from the couch. “She’s upset that we didn’t use one of her vendors.”

Lexi looks at me with furrowed brows. “You hired her?”

"My assistant did, and her attitude has been—well, difficult."

She begins to gather her things and packs them away in her oversized purse. “Do you mind if we finish a different day since you have other things going on?”

"Email me the questions, and I'll send them over immediately." Lexi freezes, more than likely not happy with my answer, then continues to load up her things.

“Thank you, Governor.”

“No, thank you, Lexi.”

For being extremely predictable.

Twenty minutes later, Mila sends me a text message that Lexi took the USB “excitedly and willingly.”

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