Director Wilcox by Jaxon Reed

Author:Jaxon Reed [Reed, Jaxon]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-04-09T22:00:00+00:00

22

Gina ported home late, closer to seven than five. PLAIR popped her inside the rooftop entry and she walked down the stairs stifling a yawn.

Inside, she heard sounds from the kitchen and wandered over. Javon Del Rio worked the stove, a droid staring dully at him, waiting for commands.

“What are you doing? We have bots for that.”

She smiled, knowing how he liked to cook on occasion but needling him anyway.

He took a pot off the heat and carefully set it down on the counter.

“Bots have no flair. They’ll follow a recipe exactly. Sometimes food prep needs a little flair. Some . . . extemporaneousizing.”

“I don’t think that’s a word.”

He smiled sadly.

“I would say, ‘Trust me. I’m a wordsmith.’ But . . . I no longer am.”

She frowned and walked the rest of the way into the kitchen while he pulled bowls from the cabinet and a ladle from a utensil drawer.

“What do you mean, you are no longer? What happened?”

He carefully measured out two helpings of stew into the bowls. A timer dinged, and he left the ladle behind to go open the oven. The smell of fresh-baked bread wafted through the kitchen as he pulled a stoneware pan out.

He flipped it over on the counter and a fresh loaf fell free. He began slicing it with a bread knife.

“Grab the butter out of the fridge, will you?”

The droid walked over to fetch some butter.

When he had slathered a copious amount on two slices, Javon transferred them to the soup bowls. These he took to the kitchen table, and they both sat down together.

“Ah, I forgot the spoons. Garçon?”

The droid went back to the silverware drawer, pulled out two soupspoons and brought them to the table.

Gina carefully sipped the hot soup.

“That’s good. What’s in it?”

“Beef, potatoes, carrots and a bunch of other things. Comfort food.”

“Okay. Now spill it. What happened?”

“So, my boss comes in and demands more detailed stories from our time abroad. Says they were good but missing crucial info and stuff. I said I couldn’t reveal more, I’m under confidentiality agreements. He pointed out we have no obligations to hold back on Lutian info, but some of the stuff he was asking for would have put your friends, and your mother, in a bad light.

“He threatened to make stuff up to fluff my stories. I told him in no uncertain terms he did not want to do that. Things got more heated from there, and it ended with my quitting and him firing me at the same time.”

“That’s terrible. I thought . . . I had no idea there were big time arguments like that in the newsroom.”

“Oh yeah. They usually don’t get as bad as this one did, though.”

“They’re not worried about you going to the competition?”

“Not really. At least, not for the stories about what happened on Lute and Euripides. They have the rights to everything since they paid my way.”

Gina thought about the problem for a moment, sipping more soup.

She said, “Maybe Smithers can do something for you.

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