Fiction Ruined My Family - Jeanne Darst [56]
I went to the supply room and tried to find something to do that would get Marty off my case, something that would prove to him that I, at least, was not a moron. In the supply room I ran into Margo, a graphic designer who lived in the East Village and was slumming it at this sign company. We decided it was time for a mid-morning cigarette, so we went back to her desk. All the production managers and graphic designers had tilted drawing desks with ashtrays on them.
After the cig I headed back to my desk and decided to prank-call Kristina.
“Harper’s Bazaar. Anthony Mazzola’s office,” Kristina answered coolly.
In a breathy, super-deep voice, I said, “Is Anthony in?”
“No, he’s not. Who’s calling, please?” she said in her stiff office voice that let me know she didn’t know it was me. Jackpot.
“It’s Lauren. Hutton.”
“Oh! Hello, Miss Hutton. My name is Kristina. Anthony and Michele are out to lunch.”
“Well, then, I suppose that leaves us a little time to get to know each other.”
“Oh, uh . . .” Kristina stumbled uncomfortably. My God, she was an easy target!
“You’re new, I suppose? Because I haven’t heard a thing about you.”
“Yes, that’s right. I’m brand-new.”
“I like new,” I purred.
“Being new is awkward, yes, well, for me it is.”
“I’ll help you, dear.” I cackled a little.
Kristina laughed nervously.
“First thing we’ll do is spread your legs and I’ll lick that beautiful pussy of yours,” I said, stifling a laugh.
“Oh my goodness, Miss Hutton, I, I . . . I think you’re trying to shock me, I, I . . .” Kristina was remarkably polite and, well, adorable.
“Now, what time is that party again? Oh, this will be a lot more fun than I thought . . .” I said.
“Eight o’clock, I, um,” she sputtered, and ran out of etiquette.
“Tell Anthony I can’t wait to see him and I really can’t wait to see you . . . Kristina.”
I hung up and almost fell off my cheapo office chair in my little cubicle. I’d been prank-calling people for years, this is just the kind of simple pleasure I never tire of, but Kristina was a level of gullible I hadn’t encountered. Wow, that was fun, I thought to myself. I can’t figure out why nobody ever hires me for an acting job.
Marty came up and leaned on the carpeted wall that was my cubicle divider.
“Uh, Miss Office Manager–slash–Carwash Worker—you look like something out of that movie Car Wash, you remember that movie? Follow me, I want to go over some things with you and that other numbskull.”
“Lois went to get lunch.”
“Okay, then make me a Slim-Fast shake quick and meet me in my office. And don’t tell Lois I had a shake when she comes back.”
About two hours later I made it back to my desk alive from my meeting with Marty. There were no messages from Kristina, so I guessed she hadn’t figured out that I was the genius who’d pranked her. I grabbed the phone and dialed her.
“Good afternoon, Harper’s Bazaar. Anthony Mazzola’s office.”
“Hey. It’s me.”
“Oh my God. Hi.”
“Hi. What’s up?”
“Holy Fucking Shit is what’s up. You’re not going to believe this,” she said.
Try me, I thought to myself.
“Lauren Hutton called earlier today to RSVP to Anthony’s gala . . .”
“Yeah.” I was now giggling quietly.
“And she said the most disgusting thing to me, Jeanne.”
“She did? What?” I asked, looking around the office to make sure nobody was going to interrupt the fun.
“She said she wanted to eat my pussy at the gala!”
“She SAID that? Are you sure she wasn’t just being nice’cause you’re new and everything?”
“JEANNE! She said, ‘I want to spread your legs and lick that beautiful pussy of yours!’”
“Lauren Hutton said that?”
“Yes!” Kristina was yelling now.
“Holy fucking shit,” I said. This was the best ever.
“Yeah. So I told Anthony what happened,” Kristina said.
“You WHAT?” I yelled.
“I told Anthony what she said. I went into his office when they got back from lunch and told Anthony