"While gracious on the red carpet and charming on the big screen, in person James Potter is nothing but an arrogant toerag," Sirius Black chortled as he read through the article in the tabloid. He swept a lock of dark hair off his face and turned a page. Across the table, James' head was in his hands as he stared at the plastic tabletop.
"I can't believe she wrote that," he moaned, running a hand through his hair.
"Did Remus have a fit when he saw it?" Sirius asked, his mouth still curled in a smile.
James nodded. "He called me at six this morning to tell me he's booked six charity events this week in order to get some good publicity. And he said he's calling that magazine to try and get them to run a different story in the next issue that makes me seem less—"
"Like an arrogant toerag?" Sirius supplied, folding up the magazine and tossing it on the table.
"I don't know what came over me," James groaned, closing his eyes in frustration. "The reporter—this bird named Lily—you should've seen her. She was flawless. Red hair, these really spectacular green eyes, good body. She was so smart too, and vivacious, funny. She had on this green top that was fairly low cut and—"
"So you told her about how much the Scandinavian princess loves you?" Sirius snorted, shaking his head. "Smooth, James. Real smooth. Have I taught you nothing? You never lead off with the jealousy—"
"I know," James snapped, glaring at his best friend. "I don't know what happened, I just—"
"Turned into a prick to try and impress a reporter?" Sirius smirked.
James sighed. "I didn't realize she thought I was that bad."
"James it says here you referred to yourself as 'the one true sex symbol in the entertainment business," Sirius chuckled, his grey eyes lighting up as James put his head back in his hands.
"Now she's never going to want to bloody talk to me again."
"Er, mate?" Sirius asked, furrowing his brow and putting a hand on James' shoulder. "No offense, but was there really a chance she was going to talk to you again anyways? I mean, you don't even have the girl's number. And she's a reporter; she probably doesn't really run in the same circles as we do."
"Well I would like to at least have the hope that if I ever ran into her again she would speak to me," James bit out, his ears turning a bit pink. "Or at least know that she doesn't think I'm a—what was it?"
"An arrogant toerag," Sirius said, laughing as he stood up to fetch a cup of tea. James glared at him.
"It's not funny!" he cried, adjusting his glasses. "This girl was the bloody girl of my dreams, Sirius! And she actually wanted to talk to me, not just giggle and flirt like most of the reporters from those bloody tabloids do."
"You don't seem to mind the giggling and flirting," Sirius pointed out, raising an eyebrow as he chose a mug. "I've run into a few too many of those reporters in the wee hours of the morning."
"That's not the point," James huffed, his neck now turning red to match his ears. "The point is this girl was different and now even if I do see her somewhere she'll never talk to me and—" he broke off as his cell phone began to ring. James pulled the phone out of his pocket. It was Remus, probably calling to yell at him again.
"If it's Remus you better answer," Sirius called. "You know how he gets when you fuck up."
"You say that like it happens a lot," James said defensively.
Sirius snorted but said nothing.
Bracing himself, James hit the button on the phone screen and lifted the device to his ear. "Hey, Remus," he said tentatively, waiting for the explosion.
"Hi," Remus said brusquely, sounding frazzled. "I've been doing damage control all morning and Pete called over to that magazine and arranged for them to do a follow up interview to try and counteract the negative attention that this last story created."
James' heart soared. How had he ever gotten so lucky? She was going to give him another chance; he could redeem himself.
"I scheduled it for tomorrow afternoon. I figured the sooner the better," Remus continued. James could almost hear the stress in his voice. "It will be a different reporter, of course—"
"Hold on, what?" James interrupted, his spirits crashing back down. He shook his head. "No, no, I want the same reporter. That Lily girl."
"James—" Remus began in a tired voice, sounding very much like a frustrated parent. "You know that's a bad idea. I mean really, after reading what she wrote, do you really want to give her the opportunity—"
"Yes!" James insisted, jumping up in his excitement. Across the kitchen, Sirius raised an eyebrow and sipped his tea. "Remus, I want it to be her. Or I'm not doing the follow up."
"James, be reasonable," Remus snapped. "You have to do the follow up."
"No," James said firmly, feeling slightly guilty for making his publicist's life so difficult. But then again, he reasoned, Remus hadn't met Lily; he couldn't possibly understand.
There was a moment of silence and then Remus sighed heavily. "I'll see what I can do," he said before hanging up.
James grinned and set the phone down on the table. It rang again less than five minutes later. James dove for it and answered on the second ring, slightly breathless.
"What'd they say?" he demanded eagerly.
"She said no," Remus said. "She won't do a follow up interview with you."
"What do you mean she said no?" James asked, furrowing his brow. "I'm James bloody Potter why wouldn't she want to do a follow up interview with me?"
"Do you really want me to answer that?" Remus countered. James could almost hear his friend's raised eyebrow.
"No," he pouted. "So what, are we just not doing one?"
"The magazine wants to assign a different reporter since Ms. Evans said no," Remus said. "I told them you insisted it be her and they said they could try and find one who does similar work—"
"That's not what I want," James said, grinding his teeth.
"I know," Remus said. "But you still need to do something about this. So, since the interview won't happen my suggestion—"
"Hold on a second," James interrupted, a stroke of brilliance hitting him. "Remus, can you get the girl—Evans—her phone number?"
"Er—" Remus stalled. "James, you know that's not really entirely appropriate—"
"Screw being appropriate," James said enthusiastically, his voice rising as the idea formed more fully in his head. "Can you get it?"
"I can try calling back to the magazine but honestly, James, I don't think—"
"Excellent, I'll let you go so you can call back. Her first name is Lily, remember. Lily Evans. Tell them I want her phone number for, er, questions about her article, yes that's it. Tell them it's for that."
"James—" Remus called out.
James thumbed the button and hung up, smiling triumphantly around the kitchen. He met Sirius' eye and his grin grew wider.
"Resorting to stalking now, are we?" Sirius asked, putting the teacup in the sink on top of an already abominable pile of dirty dishes.
"Shut it," James grumbled, the smile still not leaving his face. "It's not stalking. It's—for professional purposes."
Sirius snorted. "Right," he muttered. "Professional. Like how you want to professionally get into her knickers—"
"Oy!" James yelped, scowling. "That's not what I'm trying to—"
He broke off as the phone rang once again.
"Back to your stalking," Sirius grinned as he turned away.
"It's not stalking!" James said furiously as he hit answer.
"I have the number," Remus said by way of greeting.
"Excellent," James replied, hurriedly glancing around and snatching a napkin and marker sitting on the counter. Remus read off the number and James wrote it down, triple checking that it was correct.
"And you're sure this is hers?" he asked nervously. "Absolutely positive?"
"It's the one the magazine has down for her," Remus said.
"Okay well, thanks, Remus," James murmured, twisting the napkin in his hand. "Let me know what you book for me this week alright?"
"Will do." With a quiet beep, Remus hung up and James stood in the kitchen staring at the number written in orange marker.
Carefully, he punched the digits into his phone and waited breathlessly as he hit dial and heard the rings.
For a moment he thought she wasn't going to answer. Her phone rang six times and James was just starting to debate whether he should leave a message or simply try again later when her voice sang out through the speaker.
"Hello?"
He froze. For a moment he did nothing but stare at his cell phone in bewilderment, as though unsure of where her voice was coming from.
"Hello," Lily's voice said again, this time a bit annoyed.
James shook his head and tentatively raised the phone to his ear. "Erm, hi, Evans?" he said nervously.
She inhaled sharply and didn't say anything and for a terrible second, James thought she was going to hang up.
"Potter?" she demanded. "Is that you? Why are you calling me? Is this some kind of joke?"
"Er, no, no it's not a joke," James said quickly, wanting to keep her from hanging up. "Er, well, I know Remus called asking if you would do a follow up interview—"
"I spoke with Mr. Lupin ten minutes ago and told him I wasn't interested in doing a second interview with you," Lily said haughtily. James almost laughed. The nerve she had, turning down a second interview with him.
"Well, I'd like you to reconsider that decision," he said smoothly, with a resurgence of confidence following her stubbornness.
"Why would I do that?" Lily asked.
"Because I've never asked to do an interview with a specific reporter before," James said. "Hell, I've never asked to do a follow up interview."
"Is that supposed to impress me?" Lily challenged.
James smiled to himself. "No, but it should tell you how special I think you are," he said coyly.
Lily didn't say anything for a moment. When she did, her voice had lost some of its hardness, though maintaining the sarcasm. "You think you're really cute don't you, Potter?"
"I think you think I'm cute," James blurted out, cringing a second after he said the words. Oh god, she was definitely going to hang up now. He had blown it.
"I don't—you—you're infuriating!" Lily sputtered into the phone. "Believe it or not, Potter, not every girl in the world wants to shag you."
"Just do one more interview, Evans," James said, pouncing on a moment of silence as she paused to catch her breath. "If you still think I'm terrible after it then you can write another article telling the world I'm an arrogant toerag."
Lily mumbled a string of words half to herself.
"Come on, Evans," James said. "Listen, I'll pay and you can pick the place we go and we'll forgo all the usual formalities. It'll be like two friends having lunch, except you can record everything I do and say."
"And we're not friends," Lily added huffily.
"Not yet," James said.
Lily paused again and James could sense her resolve cracking. "I can promise you at least one juicy secret if you show up," he cajoled.
"And I'm allowed to leave whenever I want?" Lily asked. "If you're being a cocky prat I can walk out?"
"Absolutely," James agreed.
"Well—" she hesitated.
"Come on, Evans, do it for the readers," James prodded, grinning as he felt the victory draw nearer. "Imagine how they must be clamoring for you to write another scathing article about how I'm insufferable."
"Alright," she conceded grudgingly. "But one word about being a sex symbol—or—or Scandinavian royalty—and I'm gone. Got it? And I plan on keeping you to that promise of a juicy secret."
"I expect nothing less from you," James answered. "So what do you say we meet up tomorrow at noon?"
"I have an engagement at noon," Lily said stiffly. "How about two o'clock at Andiamo's Café on Hillside Avenue."
"It's a date," James said.
"Er—"
"Just joking, Evans," he said.
"Of course," she said. There was an awkward pause. "Well, I'll see you tomorrow, Potter. Goodbye." Without waiting for him to return the goodbye, there was a faint beep and she hung up.