Mick St. John dialed Josef's number, remembering his encounter with the persuasive reporter. He was somewhat ashamed of himself that he let his personal life get in the way and even more embarrassed that Beth had been the topic of discussion.
"Mick! You're still going to come over, right? Course you are. It's poker night."
"Yeah, I'm on my way there. First, I need to ask you a favor."
"That favor would be…? Personal favor? Advice? Shoulder to cry on? Place to dump a body?"
Mick rolled his eyes. "I need you to do an interview with someone."
Pause. "For the love of all that is living, what did you do?"
"Just do the interview with the reporter. For me?" Mick said, hoping that for some unknown reason he'd accept. But that, unfortuneally, wasn't Josef.
"I don't like reporters, especially ones that you set up to interview me. Who's the lucky contestant? Better yet, how'd you get suckered into this said favor?"
"Her name's Vittoria De Luca, heard of her?"
"That's a pretty Italian name, just saying. I've seen her once or twice. She's not that bad looking."
"She needs an interview with you," Mick explained, rolling his eyes at his friend's shallowness.
"What does she want to interview about? Please tell me you at least found out why! For all we could know, she could stake me the moment she steps foot into my office!"
Mick sighed. "How much would I owe you if you went though with this?"
Another pause. "You'd owe me about twenty favors and an explanation of why you agreed to this."
"She's very… persuasive. She also brought up Beth…"
"She threatened to kill Beth? Or she brought Beth into the convocation and you got all mushy and soft and agreed to this?"
Mick coughed nervously. "So, er, we got an agreement?"
Sigh. "Fine but if she kills me, I'm gonna haunt your ass."
Vittoria De Luca woke up the next morning by the sound of her cell phone ringing. She opened the lid to her freezer and grabbed her phone.
"Hello?"
"Hey, it's Mick St. John. You truly owe me," he said, sounding like he hadn't slept all night.
"You got me the interview? I owe you big time, when is it?" Vittoria asked, hoping out of her freezer and into the lukewarm feeling of her apartment.
"3 o'clock this afternoon at his office. It's all set up."
"Mick, I swear to God, I could kiss you right now if your girlfriend wouldn't get pissed off," she said, searching for a pair of jeans.
An annoyed sigh came from the other line. "I don't have a girlfriend."
"I'll help you out with the lady. What's her name, again?" she asked, struggling to slip her leg though the correct pant leg and hold her cell phone at the same time.
"I'll tell you her name but don't help. Really, we're just friends," Mick said, his tone of voice changing ever so slightly, like he's rehearsed that line.
"Oh, stuck in that phase. Name?"
"Beth Turner."
"I think I know her. Blond, curious, reporter?"
Mick let out a chuckle. "That could be her. I have to go. You owe me."
"I know, I know."
Vittoria finally managed to get herself into her jeans before looking for a shirt to wear. She grabbed a white crochet back top and a thick, brown and gold belt. She grabbed her bag, making sure she had her phone with her, and slipped on a pair of brown and gold high heels.
She looked at the clock in her kitchen. Noon.
"Did I really sleep in that long?" she asked herself, grabbing a glass and filling it with A+. Drinking it as fast as she could without choking on it, she drained the glass and hurried out of her apartment, locking the doors behind her.
"Lisa, I demand a raise," Vittoria said, walking into her boss's office.
Lisa raised her eyes? "Why?"
"Because I got your damn interview."
Pause. "You seriously did?! Vittoria De Luca, you are a freakin' goddess in disguise!"
"Yeah, I know. It's at 3 o'clock this afternoon. I'll do the interview but then I want a raise for my efforts," she said. True, she didn't really need the money but it wouldn't hurt to have the extra.
"Done," Lisa said, still incredibly pleased with Vittoria. "Now, if you don't mind, please get out of my office and get that damn interview!"
