Shut it.
Ten minutes later, I’m back at my desk when my phone pings again.
Will
I’m at the grocery store. What wine do you like?
Me
How many business meetings have you been to where they drink wine?
Will
None. But that’s only because they weren’t hosted by yours truly.
Me
I’ll take a club soda.
Will
Boring. I’ll get a bottle of Chardonnay.
Me
Do you ever listen to what anyone says?
Will
Only if they aren’t talking shit.
Me
I don’t want any wine, but I could go for a slice of Key lime pie with vanilla ice cream.
Will
Your sugar addiction is out of control.
Me
Treat yourself, William. You know you want to.
Will
Six months of working with you, and I’ll perfect my public persona, but be the size of a freaking apartment block. Do you know how many years it took me to carve this physique?
Me
That’s a problem for your dietician. Not your publicist.
Will
Let me send you a picture of my body so you can see how hard I’ve worked on it.
Me
Rule ten: The client is not, under any circumstances, to EVER send naked photos to his publicist.
