Trifecta

ACT II: Chapter Four - What You Know (September, 2004)

My hands flew across the keyboard, crafting a new scene out of thin air and forcing it onto the white of the digital page. It wasn't supposed to be in the story, but I was forced to compromise. The director wasn't happy with a particular scene, so here I was, back at a square one.

If I didn't make the changes they would pawn the job off on some two-bit hack, fresh out of college to make them for me. I would be damned if I let that happen. I would be the only one wielding the ax if it had to come down on my work.

I had just started digging into a good groove in the scene when I heard the chime of an incoming video call alerting me from my computer's speakers. I gritted my teeth in irritation but halted my process regardless. It could have been the director, after all, and it would be in very bad taste to ignore him. Even if I was busting my ass doing exactly what he wanted from me in the first place.

When I looked at the recipient of the caller I let out a sigh and slammed a palm against my forehead. I would have been glad if it was the director bitching at me about timelines. Instead I was forced to deal with Ernie and whatever nonsense he felt fit to complain about today.

Ernie was my agent and begrudging friend. On many occasions, Ernie and his wife, Lorraine, had given me support or a hot meal when I was without. His only flaw was that he worried about things way too much and more often than I liked--especially in regards to me and my personal life.

With a sigh of resignation, I fit the box for the video call so it fit side-by-side with the document I was working on and then clicked on the green icon to accept Ernie's call.

"Hey! Marley, my girl," Ernie chirped in his usual good natured way.

"What's up?" I asked shortly, my eyes darting between him and the doc as my fingers continued to henpeck words out while I spoke.

Ernie didn't take offense to my tone, instead he simply cut to the chase, saving us both time in the long run.

"I have a proposition for you," Ernie said and stroked the days old grizzled gray stubble growing on his chin curiously.

I stared at Ernie's five o' clock shadow and imagined what it would feel like. Probably like rubbing sandpaper against your skin. I shivered at the concept of something like that against my cheeks and chin. Or worse, between your thighs. My sadistic thoughts suggested. Another shiver passed through me, along with a look of disgust. God. Just one more reason to only fuck women...

I shook my head free of my wandering thoughts and looked back to my document again before muttering, "I'm listening."

"When was the last time you went on a date?" Ernie asked.

"That's a question, not a proposition." I pointed out as a single know-it-all brow arched in challenge.

Ernie only rolled his eyes though. "It is. Answer it."

"I don't date," I stated simply and shot Ernie's window a hard stare. "You should know that,"

It had been years since I was on a real date. When I got lonely I looked for some trouble, but it was so much easier to stay unattached. People were distractions, and I worked best when I was free from any and all distractions.

"Well, how would you like to go on a date?" Ernie asked with a wary glance.

I ran a hand through my hair and growled in frustration. "Seriously, Ernie," I sighed in exasperation. "Where the hell is this coming from?"

To Ernie, this question was an invitation for him to dive headfirst into the story without a single miniscule detail spared.

"Well me and the wife decided to take some cooking classes recently. She wanted to learn Thai or something, but I told her if I'm going to learn my way around the kitchen, it's gonna be for something I'd eat."