What's a Girl Gotta Do? by Sparkle Hayter

What's a Girl Gotta Do? by Sparkle Hayter

Author:Sparkle Hayter
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781497678316
Publisher: Open Road Media


Chapter Eleven

THAT NIGHT, I HAD this dream again. I was writing a script for the eight o’clock news show and I had writer’s block. For some reason, I thought I had plenty of time, but when I looked up at the clock I saw it was three minutes to eight.

A sudden panic gripped me. Sweat sprang like leaks from my pores, rolled down my face, grew legs, and turned into insects. A mob of large, angry show producers and anchorpeople bore down on me. I was ruined.

Now, this deadline dream shouldn’t disturb me, because far scarier, far more humiliating things have happened to me in real life. And yet, this dream of inadequacy represents the greatest terror in the world to me.

And then it gets worse.

The anchorpeople and show producers are bearing down on me, my sweat is turning into Mesozoic bugs, and the clock is ticking towards deadline loudly, like a bomb, when suddenly former White House Chief of Staff John Sununu rushes in from behind a blue curtain and whisks me away to safety, where he takes me in his beefy arms and kisses me.

I awake screaming.

Instead of the sound of my own scream, however, I hear the ringing of a phone come out of my mouth. Another ring, and I am almost conscious and reaching for the phone, buried beneath some dirty clothes.

“Robin?” a woman’s voice said.

“Yeah. Who’s this?”

“Susan. Susan Brave. I hope I didn’t wake you.”

“Actually, you woke me just in the nick of time,” I said.

God, I hate it when I have those Sununu dreams.

“I wondered if you’d meet me for lunch. It’s, well, an emergency and I can’t talk about it on the phone.”

“What kind of an emergency?” I asked, groping for my clock radio. It was almost noon and, I remembered, Sunday.

“It’s about Griff,” she said. “Will you meet me? I’ve beeped Joanne too.”

“Of course,” I said, still fuzzy with sleep. I rummaged for a pen and took down the information on the restaurant I was to meet her at, A Real Dive. Only after she’d hung up did I think to ask: Why would Susan want to talk about Griff?

Louise Bryant looked at me with scorn.



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