I was sitting at my desk, staring at the photo of Nicole Scherzinger on the cover wearing that black leather skirt, and remembering what happened after I got that photo, when my phone rang.
"John Libby."
"Hi John, this is Cynthia Williams at the Assignment Editor's desk. How are you?"
At the sound of that husky yet smooth ebony voice, I shifted in my seat. "Hi, Miss Williams. I'm good. What can I do for you today?"
"Well, for starters, you can tell me you don't have any assignments on your calendar."
"Like when?"
"The first week of December. We've got the Sarah Shahi piece coming up for the January issue and believe it or not nobody is available to do it."
"You're right, I don't believe it."
"Please, John, can you do it? Please, pretty please? You did such a great job with the Nicole Scherzinger article, I know you would be perfect for this."
"Well, actually, I do have that week clear."
"Great, baby! How can I repay you?"
"How about dinner?"
"Sounds good, baby. I'll give your contact info to Sarah's publicist."
"Okay. Cool."
* * * * *
The first week of December. I was still digesting the feast I'd shared with my co-workers.
I was at the coffee shop, seated across from the very beautiful Sarah Shahi. I asked her one of the questions on the list that Cynthia had given me. "So, you must be pretty excited about getting renewed?"
"Oh my god, I am so excited. We start shooting new episodes in January. Frankly I'm just glad that people were watching the show."
"I have to admit, I liked it from the first episode."
"Really? That is so sweet. What did you like?"
"Well, mostly because it seems like your character really wants to help people avoid the courts. It's too bad you're not a real mediator."
Sarah gave one of her trademark winks. "You're too sweet. What else?"
"That outfit you wore in the first few scenes of the pilot episode might have been what pulled the guys in. Certainly pulled me in."
Sarah rolled her eyes playfully. "Tell me, what is it about you guys and tight skirts and high heels?"
I chuckled as I sipped my hot cocoa. "It's a guy thing. Kind of like how women can walk in those high heels. My friend at work says its a girl thing."
"A guy thing. I swear, you men are impossible. I suppose I should take that as a compliment."
"It was meant as one."
"Okay. Thank you. I think."
"So, how does working on Fairly Legal compare to other shows you've done?"
"Every show I've done previously had different people working on it, both on the screen and behind the camera. But I love the chemistry on this show. Everyone is so amazing. As I said before, I am very excited to get back work with everyone. Kind of like with you and your friend at work."
"What do you mean?"
"You must like her."
"Well, yeah, she is pretty cool..."
"No, you must really like her. You've mentioned her twice in the course of this interview."
I couldn't help but blush. I coughed and stared out the window while I sipped at my cocoa. "Maybe. A little."
Sarah grinned. "No maybe about it. Hey, I just got an idea. You bring your 'friend' Cynthia to the photo shoot and I will bring that black skirt and pumps with me to the photo shoot. Okay?"
I grinned back at her. "Sounds good."
* * * * * * *
It had taken a little bit of work to convince Cynthia to be there for the photo shoot. But eventually she agreed to be there.
This time I was doing the shoot at the office studio instead of my home photo studio. Not only would it be easier to send all the video and photos to the IT guys, but it would much more difficult to have any kind of sex. I had to be careful about that. All it took was one mad celebrity and I was screwed.
So anyway, there was Sarah, wearing that skin-tight black skirt, those sky-high open-toed black suede pumps, and a blue top with a plunging scoop neck line, seated before lighted mirror while the makeup artist did her thing.
Samantha Smith, caramel to Cynthia's chocolate, the hair and makeup artist, was fussing over Sarah as I got my camera ready.
Standing next to me as I screwed a lens into place on my favorite camera, was Cynthia, her shiny black hair slicked back in a tight bun, wearing a soft black turtleneck sweater dress with a black patent leather belt, and matching patent leather boots with five-inch-high stiletto heels.
I got a hard-on just looking at her.
Cynthia was looking like she needed to be somewhere, anywhere but here, arms folded over her chest, fingers tapping her arms, her glossy lips pursed impatiently. She said, "Okay. I'm here. Why exactly am I here, John?"
"I told you. She wanted to thank you for making the process so quick."
"She could have done that by email or phone. I told you I have a ton of meetings today."
"You need to relax."