Midnight Whiskey by F.J. Blooding

Author:F.J. Blooding [Blooding, F.J.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Whistling Book Press

19

The window of getting onto Jazzi’s show was tight. Paige was hopeful for about one second that it meant she was off the hook, but that hope was dashed as soon as she was told she was going on air that night.

There were a lot of rules and papers she had to sign. No magick on the show. The show was live, so she had to be clear of what she was saying because there was no editing and no way to control the narrative.

Those were the two big ones.

She also had to show up two hours early for hair and make-up. And the people working the back were aghast at what she wore.

With new hair, actual make-up, and a new outfit she could keep “on the house” because she “obviously” needed it, she was ready. She also had the number of a “great fashionista” who could help her with her “optics issue.” She needed to appear like she should be in charge of paranormal people across the nation.

Yeah. That wasn’t demeaning. At all. A shirt didn’t define whether or not she knew how to do her job.

Aaron tried coaching her on a bunch of things she could and shouldn’t say, but they were all very… guy. Paige didn’t know how else to put it. Her speech writer, the person whose job was to keep her sounding smart, had no damned clue what it meant to be a working mother in this world. She still didn’t know if Maisy was going to be any better—Okay. How could she remember the name of a woman she hadn’t even met and struggled with her PR guy’s name?— and maybe she wouldn’t hire the woman, but Paige had to find a mouthpiece controller who had at least a little something in common with her.

Finally, it was time to head to the stage. People gave her more helpful tips. People with headsets barked orders at her.

She’d rather go into battle with demons. Her heart was racing. She could barely comprehend what the hell people were even saying. She was going to fuck this up.

Her name was called, and she was pushed onto the stage as the music played loudly to her left. She vaguely recalled her directions on what to do once she got on stage, waving to the people clapping even though she couldn’t see them through the blaring lights. She made her way passed the desk were Jazzi was stationed—she hadn’t gotten up to greet Paige—and to one of the three blue chairs on the other side.

Finally, things calmed down a bit. Paige turned to the host and realized in that moment that Jazzi had every intention of flaying her alive.

Okay. Time to get the game face on. Paige’d battled demons. She could take on one woman with an over-obsessive love affair with lipstick.

“Madam Secretary,” Jazzi Hesh started, glancing at the audience. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m so glad you could make it.”

Paige realized that every micro-reaction was going to be read under a microscope.

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