A Woman Unhinged (A Woman Lost #9) by T.B. Markinson

Author:T.B. Markinson [Markinson, T.B.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Contemporary, Lesbian, Lesbian Romance
Goodreads: 59683757
Publisher: T.B. Markinson
Published: 2021-11-19T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fourteen

It was two months nearly to the day from when Willow had proposed the podcast and newsletter idea, and if she had it her way, we would’ve been starting an entire media company on the first day we launched. Who knew the Pilates fiend was such a business shark?

Back to the matter at hand, I sat in the semi-finished portion of the basement. It had been retrofitted into a podcast studio, and we were seconds away from recording the inaugural episode.

Willow sat at the far end of the table, in front of a newly purchased microphone on a retractable arm. It looked like what they used in radio stations, or at least the ones I had seen in movies, and I had to admit I loved the setup because it screamed, “We’re super professional!”

I had the same mic and arm sitting in front of me, and I adjusted it closer to my mouth, feeling the butterflies swarming in the pit of my stomach, ready to take their first swoop over the edge. Ever since I was a kid, before embarking on anything new, I’d always immediately had the urge to pee. Being an adult now, I tightened my legs and pressed on. Experience had taught me that as soon as I got going, that sensation would pass.

“Ready?” Willow asked, but her words filtered through my headphones, which made it seem even weirder but in a cool way, or totally lit as my students would say. At least, I think that was what it meant. I’d recently heard Maddie use the word Gucci for awesome, but I wasn’t sure if she was fucking with me to see if I’d fall for it. That was something she’d do to me.

I nodded to Willow, indicating I was ready. Only then did it dawn on me this was an audio recording, which necessitated speaking. “Yep. Let’s b-begin,” I stuttered.

Admittedly, that wasn’t the best start to my podcasting career, even if the record button hadn’t been pressed yet. Too wimpy and formal for this medium, which I’d read was supposed to sound more like a conversation, not a lecture.

Willow gave me a thumbs-up, cleared her throat, and swallowed some water. “Welcome to the inaugural episode of The Green Petrie Dish.”

“That’s such a terrible name. Totally not Gucci,” I interjected but then quickly covered my microphone, mouthing an apology for my outburst, which I’d sworn to myself I wouldn’t do. Also, I’d let the dubious slang term I’d learned from Maddie fly, which I still wasn’t certain about. Now, I was frantically looking it up on the Urban Dictionary website on my phone, but all I could find was a definition that said it referred to the area between the anus and balls.

What? That couldn’t be right.

Feeling like the heartbeat in my throat was practically strangling me, I realized my error. I’d typed the word Gooch, not Gucci. Fortunately, when I tapped out the correct letters, I was able to confirm Maddie hadn’t led me astray.

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