“So what is taking so long?” she asked examining with fact that there was nothing under her perfect nails. Everything about the woman was perfect from her golden hair, her designer black suit right down to her stiletto heels. She was casually draped over one of my designer sofas staring out the window. I tapped at the keyboard and debated lying. She would know and would not appreciate the effort. Frankly I was getting frustrated with all the stalling so I was honest for a change
“I’m lacking inspiration.” I replied glancing at her.
“I beg your pardon?” She said her bright blue eyes narrowing.
“Your work is spotty lately and not giving me much to work with here darling. The Middle Eastern fiasco is dragging and unfortunately more people are praying harder than ever. They are certain that something is wrong. I know you are working on the insurgents but there is only so much I can do with that whole situation. Serial killer counts are down murder and rape are down most of the shit that is going on is pretty stuff. I hate to say this Lucia…but we appear to be in a recession.”
“Ugh I am the Devil, I don’t have recessions!” she barked at me.
“Sister I got one word for you…Renaissance.” I replied tapping at my keyboard. My mother always said I had self preservation issues.
“That was a depression not a recession. I mean we’re getting down to the wire here. I haven’t got a lot of time to pull this out of my ass. You need to do your job.” She snapped pacing her heels clicking on the hardwood floor. Anger fizzed through me like hot soda, I mean I was busting my ass for her, wrangling FOX news to get the proper spin coverage and suppressing some of the more alarming statistics was like wrestling a grizzly in mating season.
“I’m trying but people are starting to notice that all is not right with the world they live in. Except for the Americans, they are blithely unaware of these things.” I said with a drawn out sigh.
“What I need is a good vessel, you know? Someone to get out there and do my work without drawing to much attention, you know? I haven’t had a REALLY good one since crazy little German guy. That dunce of a President of theirs can’t even process any of my messages. There aren’t two neurons in there worth rubbing together.” She said.
I smiled, I had a plan that just might work, and “You’re looking at it wrong. The world no longer listens to political figures. It’s celebrities that they worship.”
Her blue eyes locked onto me like a shark locks onto bleeding prey. She knew I was onto something and it made a predatory smile cross her face.
“So you’re telling me for the first time in history I could be my own agent and not have to deal with some patsy. Oh this is just too good.” Lucia said pacing up and down my office.
“You know what you’re going to need though?” I asked.
“What?” she inquired.
“A really good publicist.”