charged in the direction of a stone faced Blaine.
She stopped stock still seconds later, as Blaine pulled back his arm and threw a single hard punch that cracked the jaw of a stunned Irving; sending the wacky wordsman careening toward the floor with a low, anguished groan.
Surging forward to retrieve the paperweight that fell useless from Blaine’s hand, Helena stood over Irving as he squirmed on the floor; shaking his head to clear it of its shocked haze as a thin trail of blood fell free from his lip.
“Irving,” she summoned, tone hard and unyielding. “Meds. Now.”
Immediately sitting up on the floor, Irving wiped the dust from his clothes and stood to his feet.
“Oh yeah,” he said, nodding as he turned toward the door. “I do believe I forgot those this morning. Nice meeting you, Blaine. Later, Trey and Helena.”
Nodding in his direction, Blaine took his seat at Trey’s desk and said, “So now then, about those contracts?”
“Um, absolutely!” Trey assented with wide eyes, reaching for their contract papers with frantic hands. “Any chance you’d like a greater percentage of the royalties, Mr. Bennington sir?”
An hour later, and much to Helena’s dire concentration (indeed, she sat motionless and defenseless as her worst nightmare came true before her very eyes), Blaine Bennington left. It seems that he had a jet to catch to some exotic location for a sure to be glamorous shoot—something that she suspected happened almost daily during the course of his existence.
“Well biggeth dealeth,” she told Trey, now lounging back in her office chair and resting her feet on the edge of his desk. “I get my photo snapped every time I go to the DMV—and whenever the family goes on vacation to a major amusement park. And you know what? The last time I went to see the Va Va Voom Male Revue, the lead dancer practically begged to have his picture taken with me—of course, the $5.50 tip I slipped in his G-string may have hastened that request, just a bit.” She paused here, adding as she bit her lip, “Though I fear those two quarters may have brushed against one of his most vital external organs—drastically reducing his chances of starting a family in the future. I live in regret.”
Trey laughed.
“Well speaking of such things,” he arched his eyebrows, regarding her with assessing eyes, “I have to admit that I’m just a bit jealous of our friend Mr. Bennington. Between your drool and Irving’s blood, I’m now going to have to have my carpet shampooed.”
Helena shook her head.
“No need to be jealous, sweetheart,” she assured him with a smile. “Believe me when I say that you are every bit as hot as Blaine—just in a different way.”
Trey cringed.
“Oh Helena,” he buried his head in his hands. “Please, please don’t tell me I’m pretty on the inside.”
Helena chuckled.
“Well I’ve never taken an X-ray of you, but I seriously believe that you are possessing of both inner and outer beauty,” she assured him, adding with a shrug, “It’s just that, while Blaine is a walking fantasy, wild and animal like, you’re the handsome, charming gent a gal could take home to her mama—and, if she didn’t fear for his virtue in the face of an imminent ravishing (because I have the distinct suspicion that they, too, snuck clandestine glances at Skinemax After Dark from time to time), her six sisters as well.”
Trey nodded.
“So I’m handsome, and Blaine’s sexy,” he surmised, pursing his lips in what looked suspiciously like an offended pout.
Helena sighed.
“I sure hope my lavender pumps taste good with ketchup or another light seasoning,” she shook her head, “because I sure have put my foot in my mouth.”
Trey shook his
She stopped stock still seconds later, as Blaine pulled back his arm and threw a single hard punch that cracked the jaw of a stunned Irving; sending the wacky wordsman careening toward the floor with a low, anguished groan.
Surging forward to retrieve the paperweight that fell useless from Blaine’s hand, Helena stood over Irving as he squirmed on the floor; shaking his head to clear it of its shocked haze as a thin trail of blood fell free from his lip.
“Irving,” she summoned, tone hard and unyielding. “Meds. Now.”
Immediately sitting up on the floor, Irving wiped the dust from his clothes and stood to his feet.
“Oh yeah,” he said, nodding as he turned toward the door. “I do believe I forgot those this morning. Nice meeting you, Blaine. Later, Trey and Helena.”
Nodding in his direction, Blaine took his seat at Trey’s desk and said, “So now then, about those contracts?”
“Um, absolutely!” Trey assented with wide eyes, reaching for their contract papers with frantic hands. “Any chance you’d like a greater percentage of the royalties, Mr. Bennington sir?”
An hour later, and much to Helena’s dire concentration (indeed, she sat motionless and defenseless as her worst nightmare came true before her very eyes), Blaine Bennington left. It seems that he had a jet to catch to some exotic location for a sure to be glamorous shoot—something that she suspected happened almost daily during the course of his existence.
“Well biggeth dealeth,” she told Trey, now lounging back in her office chair and resting her feet on the edge of his desk. “I get my photo snapped every time I go to the DMV—and whenever the family goes on vacation to a major amusement park. And you know what? The last time I went to see the Va Va Voom Male Revue, the lead dancer practically begged to have his picture taken with me—of course, the $5.50 tip I slipped in his G-string may have hastened that request, just a bit.” She paused here, adding as she bit her lip, “Though I fear those two quarters may have brushed against one of his most vital external organs—drastically reducing his chances of starting a family in the future. I live in regret.”
Trey laughed.
“Well speaking of such things,” he arched his eyebrows, regarding her with assessing eyes, “I have to admit that I’m just a bit jealous of our friend Mr. Bennington. Between your drool and Irving’s blood, I’m now going to have to have my carpet shampooed.”
Helena shook her head.
“No need to be jealous, sweetheart,” she assured him with a smile. “Believe me when I say that you are every bit as hot as Blaine—just in a different way.”
Trey cringed.
“Oh Helena,” he buried his head in his hands. “Please, please don’t tell me I’m pretty on the inside.”
Helena chuckled.
“Well I’ve never taken an X-ray of you, but I seriously believe that you are possessing of both inner and outer beauty,” she assured him, adding with a shrug, “It’s just that, while Blaine is a walking fantasy, wild and animal like, you’re the handsome, charming gent a gal could take home to her mama—and, if she didn’t fear for his virtue in the face of an imminent ravishing (because I have the distinct suspicion that they, too, snuck clandestine glances at Skinemax After Dark from time to time), her six sisters as well.”
Trey nodded.
“So I’m handsome, and Blaine’s sexy,” he surmised, pursing his lips in what looked suspiciously like an offended pout.
Helena sighed.
“I sure hope my lavender pumps taste good with ketchup or another light seasoning,” she shook her head, “because I sure have put my foot in my mouth.”
Trey shook his
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