65
"You can't do this!" Dale snarled as he looked at the letter in his hand, shaking it at the producer who sat impassively behind the desk "I have a fucking contract!"
"With a clause for discretion" came the calm reply "Did you forget that little gem? That interview you gave where you provided photos of Walter's bed in the trailer… you think we didn't' know it ws you? You twat, you had your fucking beanie on the bed. Only you wear a green beanie on set. You know Walter has a thing about hats. Especially green. Shame you couldn't find one with a pompom right?"
"Does he know?" Dale sneered now "Does he know you are firing me over .. over… someone's photo?"
"you e-mailed it from the tablet. He one we provided you … the email address? We know it was you. Not even bloody good at it. Now … maybe you should jog on now, eh?"
Dale slammed out of the meeting with his face flushed, his heart pounding and his bowels contracting. Fired. Gone. Terminated. Because someone's little piece of fluff can't stand the competition. We'll see. Oh yes little Curty we will see.
Dale headed for his trailer to grab what he could before security arrived, making a sharp left turn for Walter's trailer as inspiration struck. Let's see how they like this.
.
.
.
.
Walter was watching his husband as he took a backyard shower. Gods, it ws glorious and he again appreciated the fact his sitter had seen fit to install this little hidden shower in the shared garden…like a secret spot just for lovers.
The on the table phone pinged and Walter ignored it, then realized it was Curtis' so he scooped it up and opened it to check in case it was one of the kids. Yes … they did have phones and did someone's text weird stuff like 'shoes are red' or his favorite … a photo captioned 'my butt hole' when Pen left a butt imprint in the sand.
It was from none of the kids.
Walter felt the blood drain from his face as he looked at the picture mass-sent to everyone on the cast as well as associated press. And Curtis.
Walter's dressing table was covered with drug implements and a half-open packet of cigarettes, one stabbed out on a picture of the show's producer. Bottles of booze. Mini bottles from the courtesy fridge he never opened … a red lipstick love heart drawn on the mirror … it looked like a drug den. A drug den with Walt's family pictures in the edge of the frame … plur one of Dale half naked blowing a kiss that had been in his portfolio.
What. The. Actual. Fuck!
Curtis tuned and saw Walter's face rushing to see the problem and stood with his mouth open staring at the phone "What the fuck! Who did that!"
"Don't' now. It' my e-mail tag" Walter frowned "I left my tablet there in my trailer… shit. Dale. He smokes those shitty cigarettes, that brand comes from the muck cart. I didn't have his portfolio shot there… he keeps it on his wallet to show people."
Curtis was livid.