I can picturePhoenix’s Prodigious Phallus,and in my filthy mind it’s pretty impressive—like the rest of him.
“Are you done annoying me?”
“That’s silly, King König. I’m lubing you up. I haven’t even dropped to my knees to give you a blowjob yet,” the man says.
I believe that’s my job?—
Whoa.
Where the hell did that come from?
Getting up close and personal withPhoenix’s Prodigious Phallus isn’t part of our arrangement.
“What do you want, Payne?”
The man hovers over our table. “Enough foreplay,” he says. “In the name of journalistic integrity?—”
“Integrity?” Phoenix says. “You wouldn’t know how to spell the word even if the answer flashed across your screen.”
“Well, my millions of followers would disagree with you,” the man says. “Iama bona fide reporter.” He flashes Phoenix a condescending smirk.
This sparring between the two men doesn’t go unnoticed. All eyes are on us.
Great.
“You mean, you post garbage on your celebrity site,” Phoenix says.
I remember reading Payne Meldrum’s snarky article when I was getting my hair done. It was pretty condescending.
“What a coincidence we’d end up at the same place at the same time. Lucky me.” Payne ignores Phoenix’s dig. “I get to witness the love story of the year unfold in front of my very own eyes.”
The sarcasm is thicker than a cloud of smoke.
He shifts his attention to me, long enough to give me a onceover.
“She’s gorgeous,” he says. “Why have you been keeping her a secret, Phoenix?”
“My relationship isn’t up for discussion, Payne. Unlike the salt and pepper grinders, it’s not on the table.”
“So, you’re Michaela, aka, the fiancée?” Payne continues his interrogation, unfazed. “Where’s the ring?” His eyes zooming to my left hand. “Let me guess. It’s being sized.” He rolls his eyes. “You two are rushing to get married, but you’re not wearing his ring yet? Right. I smell a publicity stunt.”
What an asshole.
“Payne—”
“I’m sure the concept of privacy is foreign to you.” I say, interrupting Phoenix. “However, it’s still a value many of us hold sacred.” I pin the short man leering at me with a stern glare. “Would you suggest we start making out on the table for you to believe we’re in love? Or perhaps I should straddle my fiancé’s lap and grind against him like I’m riding Ginuwine’sPony. Or would you rather we text you a clip of the kinky sex video we shot last night and call it a day?”
Payne’s irritating smirk falls.
I’m on a roll.
“As for my ring, my fiancé wanted me to have the ring of my dreams––one I’ll be proud to wear on this fingerforever.” I flash my hand and point to my ring finger. “So, he bought six different eye-popping styles that would make a bona fide princess green with envy.” I read this story online not long ago and I can’t believe it’s come in handy. “Phoenix surprised me with them this morning over breakfast.” I place a hand against my heart. “It was so romantic.” I pause and sigh theatrically. “Having to wait a few days until the ring is sized to perfection is a small price to pay for long lasting happiness.” I plaster a disingenuous grin on my face. “It shouldn’t matter if you believe Phoenix and I are in love, because it’s none of your business, but for whatever reason, you decided to make it your business. Do you have any other questions for us, Payne, or can we enjoy our dinner in peace?”
The annoying celebrity content creator’s eyelashes—coated in gaudy electric-blue mascara that matches his hair—flutter like the wings of a chicken about to set flight as his eyes ping pong from mine to Phoenix’s.
He’s stunned.
Frankly, so am I.
