Recap of the latest mishap: Jane, already miserable with the state of her non-existent television career, is bickering with her director/producer friend Mike when Olivia calls with insane news – she is getting married in five days. Always emotionally appropriate, Jane quickly gets drunk, finds an innocent intern to victimize and has an unfortunate sexual mishap in the public restrooms. Like you do…
James, Jane's ex, was walking along a Caribbean beach and with each step, each crashing of the surf, he was getting closer to her. She stood, in a deliriously gorgeous maxi dress with Trojan sandals – her highlights fiery in the sunset. James’ muscles bulged through his tight white dress shirt and his khakis were rolled halfway up his powerful calves. The hair that he had always kept closely shaved to his head was grown to a boyishly sexy length, just begging to be tousled. He was getting closer to Jane - this time it would be right. This time he would dress the way she wanted him to dress and have a qualified retirement plan. And something other than that ridiculous Kia. It was all so perfect.
But it wasn’t the surreal beauty that tipped Jane’s brain off to the fact that she was dreaming. It wasn’t James’ long hair, or the fact that he was wearing something other than jogging pants or the jeans that time forgot. It was the fact that Jane was on a beach… and suspiciously, undeniably sober… that brought the scene crashing down.
Jane shook herself awake and, wiping drool from the corner of her mouth, looked around. Mike sat at his desk, looking slightly rough in the eyes, but otherwise very excited.
“Jane! Glad you’re back to the world of the living,” he chirped. “But I guess that’s what happens when you’ve been up all night, volunteering in a soup kitchen for orphans – you pass the fuck out in my leather chair.”
“What are you talking about?” Jane asked groggily as she began to sit up. “You know I hate kids.”
“Hate that kids are hungry you mean, you silly bitch!” Mike interrupted her with a forced laugh. “Jane, I want you to meet Todd Simmons, one of our new executive producers.”
Jane looked to her right and saw a sharply dressed man sitting in the chair next to hers. Black hair graying at the temples, piercing green eyes and a tan that made her spine tingle. She stuck her hand out towards him.
“I think you used that hand to wipe the drool away,” Todd said uncomfortably. “So gonna forgo the formality of handshaking. But it is very nice to meet you and I totally understand your exhaustion. I volunteer in the neo natal intensive care unit down at Abbington Hospital during the midnight shift and sometimes it just drains me.”
Jane nodded. What was neo- natal? Something from the Matrix? She had no idea. Her brain was about as useful as a wet sponge in a flood. “Neo-natal,” she repeated.
Todd continued, “And Mike’s just been sitting here telling me all the good work you do – serving meals in inner cities, knitting blankets for the homeless. Distributing clean needles for the poor addicts roaming the streets.”
“Distributing needles, yes, yes,” Jane answered, trying desperately to compose herself. Oh god, she wanted another drink. Her head was starting to pound already. She must have passed out in Mike’s office after screwing around with that damn intern. “I just want to help people,” she gathered the strength to smile at this sexy Samaritan. “No good tying off when the instrument is dirty, you know?”
Todd raised an eyebrow, but continued on. “That’s why I think this new project Mike's been talking about would work so well with you in it. You know humanity and you aren’t afraid to show it.”
Jane turned her blank stare to Mike. He took a long sip from a mug. She would have bet her last fertile egg that there was booze in that coffee mug and she died a little inside as she tried to think of how she could casually get it.
“The project you and I came up with, Jane,” Mike explained. “Guerrilla Wedding. Olivia of course will be the lead, as she is the one getting married, but you will have a huge part as the maid of honor. It’ll be great – the two of you trying your hardest to get a wedding up in five days. And it’s great that her fiance is in the military. A great human interest story. “
Jane didn’t know Olivia’s guy was in the military. She didn't know his name, for that matter. But she caught the conversational lifeline that Mike was tossing her.
“Oh, well, that’s what we want,” Olivia said. “Just a show about… doing good. Doing good in the name of love. Mike, can I grab a sip of that coffee?”
“It’s hazelnut. You don’t like hazelnut,” he answered quickly and brought the mug closer to his torso.
“Doesn’t matter, us volunteers will drink anything,” she snapped, grabbing the mug and taking a gulp. Bailey’s. Delicious. “Isn’t that right, Todd?
Todd agreed. “Now, Jane, I must warn you that you’re going to have to play a bit of a role here, even though it is going to be a reality show. Instead of being the kind, generous person Mike has described to me, you’ll have to be mean and cutthroat as you bargain with vendors and such. Our viewers love drama, so at times you’ll have to be downright rude. Yelling and tears also boost the ratings.”
“Not a problem, Todd,” Jane assured him, taking a loud slurp from Mike’s special coffee. “I’m a professional, you know. Gotta put the good girl aside, gotta get mean. Really, it’s anything for art.”
“This sounds great, “ Mike said. “Now Todd, if you don’t mind excusing us. Don't wanna be rude, but Jane and I need to pack and make a few important phone calls before we’re off to shoot this puppy.”
“Of course,” Todd said, getting up. He was tall, he was yummy. He wasn’t wearing a wedding band. “Good luck, you two. Very excited about this. Oh, and Jane – I’m always looking for new volunteer opportunities. Feel free to get in touch with me in the future.”
“You bet,” Jane said and watched him leave. One the door was shut, Mike leapt up from the desk and started shoving various pieces of camera equipment and wires into travel bags.
“So this is really happening?” she asked.
“Yes. You need to pack immediately. I need to pack. I need to touch base with my family. You should probably call whatever restaurant you’re working at and let them know you’ll be gone.”
“Nah… keep ‘em guessing.”
“And we’ve got one more phone call to make.”
“Who?”
“Olivia,” Mike answered, fighting with cords. “I haven’t actually run this idea by her. Can you give me back my Bailey’s please? And the drool around your mouth has now turned into a fine crust. Might want to take care of that.”
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