File 2: Heather Grayson
1105 HRS
Miami Beach, Florida
Heather Grayson…
"So you're gonna be staying in Florida?"
"Yup," That Owen always so concerned. But I always wonder how our voices go through the phone and how it sometimes cuts out even though it connected through wires. It makes my voice sound funny too.
"Heather… you're talking to yourself again."
"Oh… So you're gonna help tell mum and dad about this right?" I asked him. I could almost hear him think over the phone. I almost had to stop myself from screaming into the phone to scare him.
"What job was it again?" his voice crackled into my ear, it was ticklish.
"I pose around Florida in a… bikini."
It was a long pause… I would have bet he was imaging me in one right now.
"Like hell I am! You get back her now!" Great, now I got my younger brother screaming at me about how cheese is healthier than butter or something.
I decided to carefully and politely place the phone back onto its receiver to spare myself.
"Did you get permission?"
I almost forgot to mention that Miss Audrey was my agent to Owen. Maybe I can make her ask permission later, seeing as she's mom's best friend.
"Umm, I got permission from Owen… is that good enough?" I utilise the 'scratch-the-back-of-my neck-to-look-innocent' skill hoping it would work.
She signed rather loudly, "I'll talk with your mom to get the permission I need, later. Now, I need you registered under my company so we can begin working."
She said 'working'. I didn't like working…maths and sciences were okay and learning French was fun sure, but manual work. Eww, no.
"You can speak French too?" Miss Audrey suddenly bought up.
"Mes fesses grosse bulle n'est pas d'accord." I answered back. I hope I didn't swear.
