THREE: TATTOOS AND PHILOSOPHIES

I told you I hated Entertainment. I told my boss I couldn't write for it, but no, he didn't give a damn.

My assignment was to interview the five annoying pop stars who drummed the idea that Backstreet was back into the heads of all American teens, dominated air time off every reputable radio station in the northern hemisphere and made every other person who wasn't in their industry feel like lard.

But this job is paying my rent, not to mention my food. So I guess my pride would have to come later.

"Hey, Boys, I'm Minerva Prescott with the Orlando Herald and I'm just here to ask a couple of quick questions about your upcoming tour.

And just as I thought that this interview couldn't get any worse, it did. Cos I saw him. The one with the smug smile, still donning those dark glasses.

I grimaced as he sidled up and whispered "My dog still needs walking" before he winked at me and pulled out the chair closest to me.

I tried to ignore him, but it was increasingly difficult as the tattooed one wouldn't stop grinning in self absorption at me and giving the young blonde one beside him high fives every five seconds.

"I'm new at the Entertainment section here, and although I know you're the guys who drummed "Backstreet's Back" into the American public, forgive me for not knowing each of your names"

Shocked smiles all around the table. They probably have never had anyone in Orlando not know all their names.

"Why don't we start with you" I indicated to the one furthest from me, curly dark hair complementing his olive tone.

"Howard Dorough" he introduced as I leaned over and shook his hand.

The names Brian, Kevin and Nick flitted around the room as introductions were officiated by a hand shake. Finally, the tattooed one thrust his hand forward and smiled.

"Alexander James McLean" He grinned as he grabbed my right hand and shook it up and down vigourously. "But you can call me AJ"

So. Mr Tatoos has a name.

"Shall we start?" I asked through gritting my teeth.

I've had interviewees be rude and conceieted, but I hadn't met anyone who I hadn't been able to take under control.

I'm going to stick it out. I am, for the sake of my apartment.


Minerva; goddess of wisdom, crafts and war.

So... not only has the girl got a name, but she's got a philosophy.

"She's the one" I indicated to Carter as he grinned knowingly. "Fly" he agreed.

She asked us a couple of basic magazine questions, purposely dodging my answers. That doesn't sound like what some one wise would do, but then again, if the US army ever needed a temp for commander, she would bring the entire flank of men to their knees.

A girl with fire- thats exactly what I need.

So in traditional McLean fashion, I asked her out after the interview.

I waited till all the guys walked out, before I sidled up to the curvy one and smiled.

"I'm sorry about before" I apologised profusely. Nothing works better on a woman than sensitivity and a bit of remorse.

She didn't respond, only staring back blankly at me with those incredible green eyes.

Man she's amazing.

"I thought our interview was over, Mr McLean" she finally stated, the familiar hatred evident in her eyes.

"The interview, may be" I began once more. "But I thought I'd take the opportunity to apologise for yesterday" I confessed as I looked at her for some response.

She smiled. Well, actually, a sick puppy could have done a better job, but I like to think of things in positive light

"Well, thanks and I'll be going now" she replied curtly as she clicked closed her briefcase and began walking out the door.

A challenge. I like that.

I took a couple of easy steps forward, undiscouraged. She'll come around, i know it. They always do.

"I wanted to make it up to you, 'y know, buy ya lunch or something"

"Don't have time, have an article to write up" she rebuked rather curtly as she continued barrelling down the long corridor to the exit.

"Oh come on, I just wanna take you to lunch" I pleaded charmingly.

She stopped short in her tracks for a few moments, then glared at me in the same way. If she wants to get rid of me, I suggest she use a different way, cos man, even this look is turning me on.

"Doesn't the answer 'no' mean anything to men anymore?"

"No" I irritated back, as I revelled in her discomfort. She was uptight, but I could tell she was softening up. I have that effect with women. "Whats it mean?" I chided as I continued grinning.

"Men" she muttered as she pushed past me and walked out into the sunshine Florida was famous for. "Think they make the world go 'round"

"So, what do you say?" I asked, just as the incessant shrill of a cell phone penetrated the interwoven hostility.

"Yes" she answered sweetly, contradictory to what her previous demeanour had been. She gritted her teeth as she answered in somewhat a strained politeness and slapped her receiver closed a few moments later.

"Lets go" she answered breezily as she raised her eyebrows quizzically at me. "Don't just stand there. Where's your car?"

"Lets go?" I asked in shock as I led her the way to my car. "After denying me all that time, you decide to be ms approachable. Am i missing something?"

"My job is in jeopardy. I don't want to do this, but unlike some people, I don't have a choice" she snapped, as she threw her briefcase carelessly into my newly upholstered Durango.

"My life isn't all great. It's harder than you think" i retorted as I made my way to the driver side and slammed the door closed. "Don't go judging me when you have no idea what I do" I seethed.

She's hot alright, but there's a fine line between turning me on and insulting me. If there's one thing AJ McLean can't stand is someone dissing my profession. Wait... oh yeah... my profession is a definite no-no. I was thinking about my car. But no, definetely, my profession.

"I was right. You are crazy" she rolled her eyes as she pulled the handle to open the door.

"Too bad" I sang evilly as I jammed my keys into the ignition and rammed my foot on the accelerator as fast as it could go. "Put on your seatbelt, I don't want cops on my back"

She pulled the black vinyl strap across her chest and buckled it reluctantly. "Can't you drive a little less like a chimp on a unicycle and a little more like a human?" she groaned in annoyance.

"Baby, I'm crazy and you'll love me for it" I answered assuredly.

 

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