More Than Politics {Book 1}: Editing

~8~

"Ms. Nancy you know I don't read these sorts of papers. I prefer not to know what lies people eat up about me."

"Oh but sir, there's a..." She was cut off.

"No Ms. Nancy, I don't want any of it. Bin it. Burn it. Give it to someone else, I don't care." Graham went on, absently tossing the tabloid into her arms.

Silence. It seemed to thicken between them both as Ms. Nancy held back the urge shove the paper in his face. Graham's stubborn nature and ignorance to these 'lies' had landed him in trouble before. This was not about to happen again.

"Well, Mr. Banks." Ms. Nancy started, making obvious her irritation through audibly flicking through the tabloid. "Before you send these lies to the incinerator, I suggest to look at the one story on page three."

With that, she slapped the flimsy thing back onto the desk and trotted out of the room.

Graham rolled his eyes, women could sometimes be unnecessarily persistent when it came to gossip and-

'HAS GRAHAM FOUND HIS HAPPILY EVA AMA'

'(AFTER)'

Just the title alone was enough to wake a nerve in the back of his mind. A dead one.

'On Saturday night, we were all excited to catch a glimpse of the snazzy party Vincent Banks was throwing to launch his running for president of The Empire of New America. And I know that all you ladies- young and old- were eager to catch an eyeful of New York's playboy mogul Graham Banks, as he entered city hall.

But it wasn't his entrance, or his exit that's got us all buzzing hare at NY-Mag, Oh no. It was rather the exit of his hot date that got us all choking on our coffee. Graham Banks was seen at the entrance of city hall about three quarters of the way through the programme begging for his date to stay till the end. And who was she? We all ask...

Enter young, hot, sexy, entrepreneur and business-woman Miss. Ama Jenkins, looking like a queen in her authentic African gown. Now we all know she is the owner of Jezebel Boutiques (every female has something from Jezebel Boutiques) and reformed the dead pre-war COSTA into the post-war YUFFLES cafes.

But why is this such a big deal? WHY? Well that's because of her race. Or rather Graham dating someone of her race. We all knew what happened with Eva Pedrosa. We all know how in love Graham and Eva where when she was bought to New York. But it was not meant to be, it was sad to see her go. Graham never dated anyone like her again.

But here comes Ama and her power and beauty and sexiness. Ooh just look at how much Graham wants her, the love penetrating from those puppy-dog-eyes...

"What in the seven rings of hell is this merda?!"

He couldn't read anymore, he couldn't even look at the picture. It was a blurry thing taken from across the street, but it was clear to anyone that he'd got a firm grip on Ama's arm and was... They were not puppy-dog-eyes.

And to bring up Eva in this. She was gone, it was all behind him, he was over her. But now that she's back in this stupid tabloid again... And to compare her to Ama. AMA! They were... She was... She is...

Bvvvvvv, bvvvvvv. Bvvvvvv bvvvvvv.

Graham snatched his phone from the desk before it vibrated off the edge. 'Miss. Jenkins'.

"How the hell did you get my personal number?" He hissed angrily.

"Good morning Mr. Banks." Ama's voice poured into Graham's, had he not been agitated, he may have enjoyed the sultry tone it had.

"How did you get my number!" He pressed.

"I think your mum had something to do with that. But that isn't why I called."

"I'm sure it wasn't because you actually missed me after three days."

"It's hardly because I'm craving your attention but more of a.... Who's Eva Pedrosa?" She finally asked, softening her tone a little.

"No one."

"That's not what NY-Mag says."

"She was an ex-girlfriend."

"She's dead."

"And why is this any of your business?" Graham rasped, stepping out onto the balcony. He was pleasantly surprised with the sight of Ama on her balcony in the opposite building. She gave a small nod.

"I'm being compared a mogul's dead ex-girlfriend from when he was a teenager. You don't think I might be even a bit concerned for myself?"

"Well of course you'll be, but that story has nothing to do with you and should stay that way. Here's a piece of advice for you Miss. Jenkins, don't listen to what those tabloids say, you're mature enough to know they're full of absolute bullshit." He growled through gritted teeth.

Ama shook her head from her balcony, her curls bouncing around her.

"Ok then." She finally said. "I can see this is a um... sensitive subject for you, but here's some advice for you. Observe those who observe you, it's easier to avoid snakes that way."

"And are you one of them?"

But she'd already hung up.