Stinger - Sheridan Mia - Страница 35
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Carson
Shit, this was gonna suck. I took a deep breath and pulled the door open. Irene, Courtney's elderly receptionist looked up from her computer screen. "Hey, Carson." She smiled. I smiled back warily. Well, at least her reaction to me wasn't calling security like I thought it might be.
"Hey Irene. Courtney in?" I leaned on her desk and she batted her lashes up at me. I usually flirted with her when I came in. I just didn't have it in me this time.
Irene furrowed her brow. "She is, hon. Do you have an appointment with her?" She started flipping through her book. "I don't see–"
"No, Irene, I don't. I'm actually–"
"Carson."
I looked up and Courtney was standing in the doorway of her office, in a gray skirt and a light pink blouse, her black hair hanging straight and long down her back, her face expressionless. Shit.
"Courtney, hi." I walked toward her. "I'm sorry, I haven't called you and I didn't make an appointment, I just–"
"Carson, come on into my office."
I followed along behind her, like a kid who had been called to the principal's office, a kid who knew he was guilty and deserved exactly what he was about to get. After the way things had gone with Tim, I was not hopeful that this meeting would go well. Again, this was gonna suck.
Courtney sat down behind her desk and I took the chair in front of it. As I opened my mouth to speak, Irene's voice said behind me, "Can I get some coffee? Tea?"
Courtney raised her eyebrows at me. "No, not for me," I answered her silent question.
"No, Irene, we're good, thanks," Courtney said and I heard the door close quietly behind us.
Courtney leaned back in her chair, steepling her fingers and studying me quietly. "What happened, Carson?" she asked.
I let out a breath. "I'm done, Courtney. I'm sorry. I know it wasn't the professional way to do it. You've been good to me and I really do hate that I'm ending things this way between us."
She was silent for a minute. "You cost me a lot of money that day, Carson."
I took a deep breath. "Yeah, I know. That's part of the reason why I'm here." I reached into my pocket and removed my wallet and took the check out of the billfold. "I sold my car. I had them make out a cashier's check and I signed it over to you. I don't know if it's enough to cover all the expenses of the shoot, and I know it's not enough to cover what you would have made off of the video itself, but I hope it's a start, and I can make payments for the–"
Courtney sighed. "First, tell me what happened to spur you running out of that suite half-dressed?"
I looked down at the check in my hands and set it on the edge of her desk.
I looked away for a minute, finally making a half-laughing/half-choking sound in my throat, and ending it on a sigh. I liked Courtney. She'd always been good to me, always been someone I felt like I could trust in a business full of untrustworthy people. "I met someone, Court," I said softly.
She studied me, her expression softening. "Ah, you fell in love. Well, that'll sometimes do it."
"No, not exactly. I only spent a weekend with her, but–"
"Carson, you fell in love. I see it in your eyes."
I shook my head. "No, really, two and a half days, Courtney. I've just never felt that way about anyone. We–"
She studied me again and I could practically see the wheels turning in her head. She let out a deep breath. "Love doesn't always make sense. And that's the great beauty of it, the great mystery–the thing cynics who scoff at so-called 'insta-love' would bottle if they could. But you can't manufacture mystery, honey. Believe me, I know."
I stared at Courtney, taking in her words, letting them swirl around in my head. "I don't have anything to offer her."
She shook her head slowly. "So change that."
I nodded, looking down at my hands, Grace's face so clear in my mind.
"I think we might have a few things in common, Carson. Can I tell you?"
I looked up at Courtney and she was steepling her fingers again. I nodded.
"My mom was in the business too. I never said anything about it to you, because I know I never liked people bringing it up to me when I wasn't prepared to talk about it. I only know about your situation because I make it my business to know about the people working for me. Also, my mom's story ended a little differently than yours did. My mom overdosed on heroine when I was fifteen. She was a runaway who got into the business when she was sixteen. She lied about her age and started making films. I can't really say that I watched her decline, because I never really knew her when she was anything other than a shell of a person. She could be fun and vivacious when she wanted to be, but those times became few and far between as I became a teenager. Thankfully, my dad was a decent guy who stepped into my life fully when she died. They had had a three-month affair and although he could have tried to deny me based on what my mom did for a living, when she told him she was pregnant with me, he never tried to play that card. I think he had truly and honestly tried to take care of her, but she just wasn't in a place to let him do that. But he took me in and he gave me the stability I had never had. He was a good man… he passed away two years ago from lung cancer."
I couldn't even utter a word. I was so shocked by Courtney opening up to me like this.
"Anyway," she went on, "you can probably put two and two together about why I started this website. A lot of undignified, soul-stealing stuff goes on in this business. And this is a business that attracts people who are the least likely to be able to deal with that kind of thing to begin with." She studied me for a minute. "I started my site because I wanted to inject some heart into a business that's sorely lacking in that. True, the people in my videos are virtual strangers. But I think that showing sex as a natural expression of our physical selves, while also showing that it doesn't have to be degrading to either party is the best I can hope to accomplish here. If porn is always going to exist, and I believe it will, then I want to be responsible for doing it in a way that respects the fact that none of us is only our body–all of us have a heart and a soul, and they can't be separated." She smiled big. I was still trying to keep up.
"What I'm trying to say, is that I'm a fan of love." She laughed softly and rifled through some papers on her desk, choosing one from the pile.
"Now, Carson, from what I recall, we made a change to your contract that amended it to be six months instead of two years. You remember initialing that change, right?" She looked pointedly at me.
"Uh, yeah, I do?" Courtney lowered her chin and looked up at me through her dark lashes. "Yeah, I do," I said more confidently.
"Good. Then according to my calendar," she flipped her desktop calendar back a couple pages, "your contract ran out last week. Good luck in your next endeavor, Carson Stinger. It's been real."
I stared at her. She stared back. I stood up and rubbed my palms on my jean-clad thighs. "Courtney, I don't know how to–"
"Take care of yourself, Carson," she said, not rising from her seat. "And take your cashier's check. If you don't, I'll tear it up."
Right. I picked up the check and stuck it in my pocket. "Courtney. Thank you. You take care of yourself too."
"Oh, I intend to." She smiled at me.
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