The Everborn - Nicholas Grabowsky [55]
...so when others would read it, he would at least know what the hell they were reading and would be able to handle their responses like an experienced bestselling author should.
As usual, Jessica was the first of the others aside from his agent to read his latest work, though she often complained otherwise in an irate and wining sort of fashion.
And of course, Ralston had to deal with it, which meant letting Jessica read the novel before he did.
In Andrew’s apartment, Ralston had a chance of sorts to browse through the book: from what he read of it, it was good. Damn good.
But he never truly caught the gist of it, in what little time he had then.
And neither did Jessica, though within the past few hours, the silent, quiet, post-party hours, she tried.
But she didn’t quite make it.
If she had, everything would be a different story from there on out.
And from here on out.
***
“I saw you with my new book,” Ralston said slyly as he sat there.
Jessica stirred, turned on the bed to her side. “Ohhh. Yes. Yeah. When was that?”
“Must’ve been a few hours ago.”
“Must’ve.” She sat up, propping herself with her hands.
Ralston had caught Jessica browsing through the manuscript’s pages just before the last of the guests had bade them both farewell; almost immediately the two of them engaged in a sexual frenzy that had been mounting throughout the evening.
Ralston had never been one for modesty and had been known from time to time to out-and-out go for his girlfriend regardless of who was with them in the same room...although a great deal of the time whoever was watching was so incredibly strung out they didn’t seem to notice or care, which made the two lovers all the more consenting and comfortable. Hell, they themselves were usually so strung out they never seemed to care either, even if two other uncaring couples went into frantic screwing not far away.
And whenever Jessica wasn’t paying attention or passed out, one or the other, Ralston had been known to join in.
Under such drugged conditions, such a celebrity was indeed obliged.
“So waddaya think so far?”
“What, about the book?” Jessica asked. She reached behind her, fetched the thick pages of the manuscript and brought them before her. Her glasses, put into use strictly for reading purposes, rested atop a nightstand. She retrieved them also and situated them over her eyes.
“No,” Ralston replied rather sarcastically, “Waddaya think about my cock....”
“Fuck you,” came her reply in turn, lazily, yet playfully. Then, “It’s great, honey. Of course. As usual. Like this Max character. You never wrote a book about U.F.O’s before. I think it’s cool, the part you wrote about how he goes to Carbon Canyon because of that letter. I’ll read more later. Or...I’ll read more now. Ya got some more cheese....?”
“Yeh, babe,” Ralston said and stood up, went for the dresser, went for the sizeable hand mirror on which rested two likewise sizeable lengthy lines of the best goddamn crank this end of California. Another hand went for a two-inch-long crazy straw. Next, he offered the mirror and the crazy straw over into Jessica’s waiting hands. She sucked up the sugar-white granules through one nostril in a single snort, cringed for a moment, then, handed the straw and the hand mirror back to her man. She resumed her spread-eagle position atop the bed, then sat right back up again, ready for action.
Before Ralston commenced with his turn, he shot his girlfriend a quick glance. “So....waddaya think of my book? Or my cock...?”
***
Less than three years ago, Jessica had been nothing more than a mere librarian’s assistant, of all things, periodically engaging in various odd part-time jobs alongside. She had finished night school just previous to this, finally achieving the high school diploma she fell short of years before. She’d dropped out of Kingsburough High after a final semester of truancy and an aborted pregnancy and at the age of eighteen screwed her pre-destined goals and