Maureen tore down the sidewalk in a hurry.
"Shit! I'm gonna miss the subway," she groaned. Maureen had an appointment with her agent at 8:00 PM, and it was already 8:07. She pushed past the crowd and made a dramatic leap onto the subway just as the doors closed behind her.
It was now 8:30 and Maureen rapped loudly on her agent's door.
"Jeff! Are you here?" There was no reply. Maureen leaned against the door. "Jeff, please! This could be my big break! Just let me come.ow!" Jeff had opened the door unexpectedly and Maureen made her grand entrance by falling on top of him.
"Sorry!"
"Don't worry about it," Jeff chuckled, "Here, let me help you." He reached out his hand to help Maureen up off the floor. For some reason, she thought she had felt his hand lightly sweep over her backside. Maureen decided that she had imagined it.
"Nice place," she commented as her eyes examined the drab apartment. Jeff grinned and invited Maureen to sit down so he could examine her resume.
"Hmmm," Jeff mumbled to himself as he examined the piece of paper before him.
"Was that a good 'hmm' or a bad 'hmm?" Maureen asked anxiously.
"Is this all the experience you have?"
"Well, yes." Maureen began, but she saw the disapproving look on Jeff's face and was tempted to do anything to make him change his mind. "Of course, there was that movie I filmed in Paris last year," she lied. Jeff raised one eyebrow.
"What movie?"
"Oh, you know. It was called.um." Maureen frantically searched around the room in order to think of something to call her imaginary film. Seeing a box of cereal on the counter, she blurted, "Breakfast! Yes, it was called breakfast."
"Interesting. I've never heard of it."
"Well, of course you haven't. You see, it was all filmed in French and the director didn't want to ruin the art of the film with subtitles."
"You speak French?"
"Why yes, I am bilingual. I supposed I'm a multitalented girl!" Maureen smiled.
"Would you be ever so kind and say a few things for me? I would love to hear it. French is such a beautiful language."
Maureen gulped. She had never once taken French lessons.
"Um.bon jour!" she said.
"A little more, if you don't mind."
Maureen began making things up. "See a la gener tee soo lay a la am Paris," she said frantically.
"You don't speak French, do you?"
"No, Sir."
"Were you ever in a French film?"
"No.I'm sorry. I just really want a job, Jeff!"
"I know. I'm sorry, Maureen, but you don't have the experience or the talent that people are looking for."
Maureen was shocked. "What?! Me?! No talent?! I've got talent! You saw me at that protest last year! I was good! You saw all those people!"
Jeff shook his head. "Yes, I remember. All those people mooing. It was inspirational," he said sarcastically, "But you know, Maureen, you are a very beautiful woman."
"What does that have to do with anything, Jeff? It's not gonna get me a job!"
"It could."
"What do you mean?"
"I could talk to a few directors. I could tell them how talented you are and how perfect you would be in their films. I could mention that you have flawless acting ability."
"You would do that? Oh, please Jeff!" Maureen begged.
"I'll do it for a price."
"How much?" Maureen asked, taking a wallet from her purse. "I don't have much, but I want this so bad." Jeff gently shut Maureen's wallet.
"No. Not that kind of price. This is where being beautiful comes in. I've always wanted to sleep with a woman as pretty as you."
Maureen turned away. "Well if that's what you want, you're not getting it. I'm a lesbian, Jeff! I have a girlfriend who cares about me."
"Yes, Maureen. But will she still care about you when she's the one who is supporting you? Will she care about you when you two go broke? You need a job, Maureen." His hand caressed her shoulder and he breathed softly on her neck.
"Jeff, stop."
"She never has to know."
"JEFF!"
"Haven't you ever wondered what it would be like to be with another man again?"
"I'm leaving!" Maureen shouted as she made her way to the door.
"Not so fast!" Jeff gripped her arm tightly. "You're not going anywhere." He locked the door behind him, and Maureen had no choice.
"Shit! I'm gonna miss the subway," she groaned. Maureen had an appointment with her agent at 8:00 PM, and it was already 8:07. She pushed past the crowd and made a dramatic leap onto the subway just as the doors closed behind her.
It was now 8:30 and Maureen rapped loudly on her agent's door.
"Jeff! Are you here?" There was no reply. Maureen leaned against the door. "Jeff, please! This could be my big break! Just let me come.ow!" Jeff had opened the door unexpectedly and Maureen made her grand entrance by falling on top of him.
"Sorry!"
"Don't worry about it," Jeff chuckled, "Here, let me help you." He reached out his hand to help Maureen up off the floor. For some reason, she thought she had felt his hand lightly sweep over her backside. Maureen decided that she had imagined it.
"Nice place," she commented as her eyes examined the drab apartment. Jeff grinned and invited Maureen to sit down so he could examine her resume.
"Hmmm," Jeff mumbled to himself as he examined the piece of paper before him.
"Was that a good 'hmm' or a bad 'hmm?" Maureen asked anxiously.
"Is this all the experience you have?"
"Well, yes." Maureen began, but she saw the disapproving look on Jeff's face and was tempted to do anything to make him change his mind. "Of course, there was that movie I filmed in Paris last year," she lied. Jeff raised one eyebrow.
"What movie?"
"Oh, you know. It was called.um." Maureen frantically searched around the room in order to think of something to call her imaginary film. Seeing a box of cereal on the counter, she blurted, "Breakfast! Yes, it was called breakfast."
"Interesting. I've never heard of it."
"Well, of course you haven't. You see, it was all filmed in French and the director didn't want to ruin the art of the film with subtitles."
"You speak French?"
"Why yes, I am bilingual. I supposed I'm a multitalented girl!" Maureen smiled.
"Would you be ever so kind and say a few things for me? I would love to hear it. French is such a beautiful language."
Maureen gulped. She had never once taken French lessons.
"Um.bon jour!" she said.
"A little more, if you don't mind."
Maureen began making things up. "See a la gener tee soo lay a la am Paris," she said frantically.
"You don't speak French, do you?"
"No, Sir."
"Were you ever in a French film?"
"No.I'm sorry. I just really want a job, Jeff!"
"I know. I'm sorry, Maureen, but you don't have the experience or the talent that people are looking for."
Maureen was shocked. "What?! Me?! No talent?! I've got talent! You saw me at that protest last year! I was good! You saw all those people!"
Jeff shook his head. "Yes, I remember. All those people mooing. It was inspirational," he said sarcastically, "But you know, Maureen, you are a very beautiful woman."
"What does that have to do with anything, Jeff? It's not gonna get me a job!"
"It could."
"What do you mean?"
"I could talk to a few directors. I could tell them how talented you are and how perfect you would be in their films. I could mention that you have flawless acting ability."
"You would do that? Oh, please Jeff!" Maureen begged.
"I'll do it for a price."
"How much?" Maureen asked, taking a wallet from her purse. "I don't have much, but I want this so bad." Jeff gently shut Maureen's wallet.
"No. Not that kind of price. This is where being beautiful comes in. I've always wanted to sleep with a woman as pretty as you."
Maureen turned away. "Well if that's what you want, you're not getting it. I'm a lesbian, Jeff! I have a girlfriend who cares about me."
"Yes, Maureen. But will she still care about you when she's the one who is supporting you? Will she care about you when you two go broke? You need a job, Maureen." His hand caressed her shoulder and he breathed softly on her neck.
"Jeff, stop."
"She never has to know."
"JEFF!"
"Haven't you ever wondered what it would be like to be with another man again?"
"I'm leaving!" Maureen shouted as she made her way to the door.
"Not so fast!" Jeff gripped her arm tightly. "You're not going anywhere." He locked the door behind him, and Maureen had no choice.