Page 27 of Drake Eternal

We chatted for a while, about what we were writing.

“Let’s grab a seat,” Gracie said and pointed to a collection of sofas along one wall. We went, and I was glad of a change of scenery, hoping that Carlton would go and bother someone else.

No luck.

Carlton sat directly beside me on the sofa, his arm across the back behind me. He began peppering me with questions about my plans for the summer.

“I’m flying to Kenya on Tuesday,” I said.

“Ahh,” Carlton said with a pout. “I was hoping you’d be here so we could connect and talk about your plans. There’s an opening for a local correspondent at Page One and I want you to apply. I thought you could write about the people you know among Manhattan’s rich and famous. Your father’s crowd is quite prestigious. Maybe we could meet this weekend and spend a couple of hours going over things I’d like to see in Page One.”

I smiled, frustrated that we were going over old material once more. I decided to tell him about my trip, glad to have a chance to reinforce my married status.

“I’m going to stay with my husband, Drake, who is working at the hospital in Nairobi.”

“Oh, yes, the husband. You’re too young and beautiful to be married with kids. Look at Gracie. She’s single. Everyone here is single.” He waved around the room at the other grad students.

Of course, he was right. Most of my fellow graduate students in journalism were single and at least five years younger than me.

“I’m the lucky one, I guess,” I said and smiled, raising my vodka cooler to my lips. “Happily married.”

I held my other hand out to show him my engagement and wedding rings, just to reinforce it, and he took my hand and held it, examining my ring briefly.

“He’s a big spender,” Carlton said, looking in my eyes. “You’re worth it.”

I noted that he didn’t let go of my hand quite quickly enough, and finally, awkwardly, pulled it out of his grip.

That didn’t seem to dissuade him from leaning in closer. “You say he’s in Nairobi. When the cat’s away…”

I laughed in his face at that. I knew he was just being charming, trying to flatter me, but still. It seemed like such an obvious move.

“When the big cat’s away, this mouse is counting the days until we’re together again. No playing on my part.”

“What he doesn’t know won’t hurt me.” He wagged his eyebrows dramatically.

I laughed again, and realized he was just enjoying playing around.

“I didn’t know you were a Lothario,” I said, referencing Don Quixote by Cervantes.

“One of the best,” he replied, grinning. “Seriously. It’s just hard for me to believe you’re married with two kids and some old neurosurgeon husband. You look so young. You and I could really get some serious work done and make Page One a big success. It would mean a lot of extra money for the paper, and of course, a rise in pay for you.”

He wagged his eyebrows suggestively.

Then, I heard a series of clicks that sounded like a camera. When I glanced up, Kent, one of the photographers working for Carlton, was taking photos of us.

I frowned. I didn’t want any photos with Carlton leaning over me possessively to be the one people remembered. Before I could say or do anything, Kent moved on to take photos of another group of students.

“I have to use the washroom,” I said and got up from the sofa. I hoped it would give me a chance to escape Carlton and planned on chatting with some other students.

“Think about what I said,” Carlton added and stood up, grabbing my arm. “If you make me happy, you have a really good future ahead of you at the paper.”

I slid my arm out of his and smiled, then I went to the washroom in the back of the big convention room, glad I was free of Carlton. Was that an offer or a threat? I didn’t know which. I used the washroom and when I was done, I spoke with Dana while I washed my hands. Dana was one of the other staff writers who was there, primping before the mirror.

“So, this is your first party,” she said, glancing at me when I was finished and was washing my hands. “What are you going to write about next? Any ideas?”

I smiled. “I have lots of ideas. There are new book releases, gallery openings, and art exhibits. I’ll probably try to work from home as much as possible while my kids are young.”

She nodded. “I don’t even have a boyfriend. I’ll be hoping for something in print if I have my preferences and stop working for Page One. I want the real deal. Old style journalism. None of this new BS that’s all about getting eyeballs on a website.”

---