Manic
Page 33
That phrase sucks, by the way.
Ronin knows all this stuff and I don't. Of course, I should probably be mad he didn't warn me, he is my manager. But whatever. It was my fault for not reading the contract properly. Pretty much everything about this contract is my fault for that reason alone.
Ronin sits off to the side as Spencer paints me up. Spencer is the same, he was never out of bounds during painting. And this outfit is quite interesting.
"Have you painted this outfit a lot, Spence? You're quick this time."
He looks up from painting the sparkly sequins on the bodice and winks. "I painted Veronica up like slutty Elvis about a dozen times."
"Veronica, that's the girlfriend who didn't get the job?"
"Yeah, we did the Elvis Fest in Vegas last year. She won a pretty big costume contest, even though she's a girl and she wasn't even wearing a costume. That was hysterical, people were pissed. But hey, you can't deny the talent of these fingers."
I look over at Ronin and he's smiling and shaking his head.
"Do you miss her?"
He stops painting. "Little bit. But not enough to give her a job as the Shrike Girl just because she's my girlfriend. And it pissed me off that she wanted that contract so bad she'd fight with me over it. I liked her for her, she liked me for Shrike Bikes."
I have nothing to say to that. I doubt it's true because Spencer is very good-looking and he seems like a funny and easy-going guy, but what do I know? Maybe she's a total gold-digger and he's right?
"Anyway," Spencer continues, "I've painted this outfit more than any of the others. And the bike that goes with it is pretty f**king cool as well."
"Does the bike have a cape?"
He laughs. "No."
"Do I get a cape?"
"Yes."
"Oh, I like that. I'm like a super-sexy naked Elvis girl."
"Yeah, and thanks to your temper tantrum last night, I get Ronin the supermodel as your Elvis counterpart for free." Spencer looks over at Ronin, clicks his tongue, and shoots him with his finger.
"Right," Ronin replies. "But from now on the only lap super-sexy naked Rook will be sitting in is mine." He shoots Spencer back. "So I win."
Spencer mumbles under his breath.
"Are you guys friends again?"
Mumbles from both of them.
"OK, let's change the subject. Let's talk about Ford. Why don't Ronin and Ford get along?" I hear people muttering behind me, back where Director Larry is with Ford. "What'd Ford do?"
No one wants to tackle that one because all I get is silence.
"OK, moving away from things that require you men to talk about your feelings. How'd you get started doing this painting stuff, Spence?"
"Took art since I was a kid. But you know how you were born looking like a model?"
"Yeah." That's true too. I didn't do anything to look this way. It's just how it is.
"Well, I was born to paint up naked girls. That's the only explanation I have for it. I know how to do it, I know how to mix up colors, and I see perspective. I've taken lots of classes and even did a fancy summer apprenticeship with a big-name trompe l'oeil body paint artist. She was pretty cool and she never took students, but my dad paid her well, and I wasn't too stupid—her words, not mine. Plus, she was French, and I already spoke French by that time, thanks to Ronin. But, mostly, I just always knew how to do this shit, Rook. Everyone has one God-given gift and painting naked girls is mine. Maybe I'm not curing cancer, but whatever. This is what I got, so I just needed someone to point me in the right direction and show me how to use the gift."
"So you majored in art at school?"
He almost snorts. "No, are you kidding? My old man is a filthy rich bastard, but private university prices for finger-painting was beyond even his wasteful tendencies."
"So what'd you major in?"
He looks up at me. "Business, what else? You can't run a business without knowing what the f**k you should do with it."
"Well, you're pretty good at this business stuff, Spence. You have a lot going on professionally. What'd you major in, Ronin?"
Ronin just smiles, like he's keeping a secret.
"What was it, Spencer? Accounting, right?" I look over at Ronin and wink. "Spencer the Businessman Biker and Top Model Ronin the Accountant. Seems about right."
"Marketing," Ronin says. "I majored in marketing. And that's what I'm gonna do when we quit after this contract."
"Quit?" Spencer is appalled. "You're not quitting, are you, Rook?"
"Afraid so. We're done. Gonna buy a minivan and get desk jobs."
Spencer looks over to Ronin. "Did you do this on purpose?"
"Do what?" I ask.
Spencer stands up and puts a hand towards my face. "Hold on, Rook." He walks over to Ronin. "Did you talk her out of the next deal I was gonna offer? That was confidential."
"I didn't talk her out of anything, Spencer. And as far as I know, she has no idea what the next deal is."
"What deal?"
Spencer ignores me. "I told you, motherfucker. I wanted her for all the deals."
Oh shit, what just happened?
"And I told you, she's my f**king girlfriend. She's not a goddamn toy to parade around your shop for the next few years."
Ronin knows all this stuff and I don't. Of course, I should probably be mad he didn't warn me, he is my manager. But whatever. It was my fault for not reading the contract properly. Pretty much everything about this contract is my fault for that reason alone.
Ronin sits off to the side as Spencer paints me up. Spencer is the same, he was never out of bounds during painting. And this outfit is quite interesting.
"Have you painted this outfit a lot, Spence? You're quick this time."
He looks up from painting the sparkly sequins on the bodice and winks. "I painted Veronica up like slutty Elvis about a dozen times."
"Veronica, that's the girlfriend who didn't get the job?"
"Yeah, we did the Elvis Fest in Vegas last year. She won a pretty big costume contest, even though she's a girl and she wasn't even wearing a costume. That was hysterical, people were pissed. But hey, you can't deny the talent of these fingers."
I look over at Ronin and he's smiling and shaking his head.
"Do you miss her?"
He stops painting. "Little bit. But not enough to give her a job as the Shrike Girl just because she's my girlfriend. And it pissed me off that she wanted that contract so bad she'd fight with me over it. I liked her for her, she liked me for Shrike Bikes."
I have nothing to say to that. I doubt it's true because Spencer is very good-looking and he seems like a funny and easy-going guy, but what do I know? Maybe she's a total gold-digger and he's right?
"Anyway," Spencer continues, "I've painted this outfit more than any of the others. And the bike that goes with it is pretty f**king cool as well."
"Does the bike have a cape?"
He laughs. "No."
"Do I get a cape?"
"Yes."
"Oh, I like that. I'm like a super-sexy naked Elvis girl."
"Yeah, and thanks to your temper tantrum last night, I get Ronin the supermodel as your Elvis counterpart for free." Spencer looks over at Ronin, clicks his tongue, and shoots him with his finger.
"Right," Ronin replies. "But from now on the only lap super-sexy naked Rook will be sitting in is mine." He shoots Spencer back. "So I win."
Spencer mumbles under his breath.
"Are you guys friends again?"
Mumbles from both of them.
"OK, let's change the subject. Let's talk about Ford. Why don't Ronin and Ford get along?" I hear people muttering behind me, back where Director Larry is with Ford. "What'd Ford do?"
No one wants to tackle that one because all I get is silence.
"OK, moving away from things that require you men to talk about your feelings. How'd you get started doing this painting stuff, Spence?"
"Took art since I was a kid. But you know how you were born looking like a model?"
"Yeah." That's true too. I didn't do anything to look this way. It's just how it is.
"Well, I was born to paint up naked girls. That's the only explanation I have for it. I know how to do it, I know how to mix up colors, and I see perspective. I've taken lots of classes and even did a fancy summer apprenticeship with a big-name trompe l'oeil body paint artist. She was pretty cool and she never took students, but my dad paid her well, and I wasn't too stupid—her words, not mine. Plus, she was French, and I already spoke French by that time, thanks to Ronin. But, mostly, I just always knew how to do this shit, Rook. Everyone has one God-given gift and painting naked girls is mine. Maybe I'm not curing cancer, but whatever. This is what I got, so I just needed someone to point me in the right direction and show me how to use the gift."
"So you majored in art at school?"
He almost snorts. "No, are you kidding? My old man is a filthy rich bastard, but private university prices for finger-painting was beyond even his wasteful tendencies."
"So what'd you major in?"
He looks up at me. "Business, what else? You can't run a business without knowing what the f**k you should do with it."
"Well, you're pretty good at this business stuff, Spence. You have a lot going on professionally. What'd you major in, Ronin?"
Ronin just smiles, like he's keeping a secret.
"What was it, Spencer? Accounting, right?" I look over at Ronin and wink. "Spencer the Businessman Biker and Top Model Ronin the Accountant. Seems about right."
"Marketing," Ronin says. "I majored in marketing. And that's what I'm gonna do when we quit after this contract."
"Quit?" Spencer is appalled. "You're not quitting, are you, Rook?"
"Afraid so. We're done. Gonna buy a minivan and get desk jobs."
Spencer looks over to Ronin. "Did you do this on purpose?"
"Do what?" I ask.
Spencer stands up and puts a hand towards my face. "Hold on, Rook." He walks over to Ronin. "Did you talk her out of the next deal I was gonna offer? That was confidential."
"I didn't talk her out of anything, Spencer. And as far as I know, she has no idea what the next deal is."
"What deal?"
Spencer ignores me. "I told you, motherfucker. I wanted her for all the deals."
Oh shit, what just happened?
"And I told you, she's my f**king girlfriend. She's not a goddamn toy to parade around your shop for the next few years."
