Erin:
As the call concluded, we found ourselves in that "idle chit chat" part of the conversation--dull as it was, I had learned early in my career that writers appreciated these kinds of personal touches from their agents.
"And Laura, how is everything otherwise? How is Elsa?" I said.
"Oh, that's a sad story. She was adjuncting at [a college]. It was supposed to be a test run to see if they wanted her full-time. In the end, they didn't make an offer. And I can't do long-distance."
"Distance is hard."
"What about you? A little birdy told me a voluptuous assistant has joined your agency. Sounds like your type. Someone new in your life?"
"It's complicated. She's not new. A blast from the past. And, well, she's married. To a man."
"That does sound complicated. She must be fun. Is she fun?"
"Incredibly fun."
"I'll look forward to meeting her when I'm there next month."
"Take care, Laura. Looking forward to seeing the draft. I'd love to take a look at the pages before your visit, too. That way we can get the business out of the way and focus more on the leisure aspects of your visit."
"I'll try. No promises. Talk soon."
I set my phone on the desk and opened the study door. In the living room, Alyssa was typing away on the couch. When she saw the door open, she set her laptop aside and stood, smoothing her tight charcoal skirt, looking expectantly at me.
"How was the call?"
"Fine. Laura's a little distracted and I need the next draft of the novel sooner rather than later. I have to be careful. Writers can be so sensitive. I think she'll respond best to a 'carrot approach.'"
"Carrot for her, stick for me?" Alyssa said, smirking.
"Getting to beat you with a stick will be her carrot, silly."
I looked her over. The charcoal skirt strained across her big ass, and her cleavage peeked through the several undone buttons of her blouse. It was an outfit that would have been appropriate for work some pounds ago. But now, in the softness of her thirties, Alyssa looked more like a porn star playing "worker" than an actual cubicle-dweller. How her husband let her leave the house dressed that way was anybody's guess. I looked her up and down, feeling that familiar fire of lust in my throat. Fate had given her back to me, and I would do anything to keep her this time.
"Alyssa- finish that email and then please let Lyssie know I want to see her in the bedroom in twenty minutes."
Alyssa nodded eagerly and sat back on the couch, typing furiously.
