He yanked out an ear bud, heard the thin thump of her song. ‘Where the hell is Paul?’ ‘Up in a private room. Alone.’ She glared at him over her shoulder. ‘No time for you anymore?’ he said. In the mirror he was watching her chest, covered by thin white Lycra. She’d taken off all the computer crap; it lay in a jumble on her makeup table, like a system undergoing repair. She took out the other earphone. ‘He’s watching a basketball game. He’s in a real sour mood.’ ‘Word is you’re his new girl.’ ‘Word is.’ ‘That blond guy you were talking with.’ ‘Yeah?’ ‘What’d you talk about?’ ‘He’s a scout for a movie production company. Looking to film a few scenes here.’ She examined her lipstick in the mirror. Bucks was silent. ‘He run a tab?’ ‘Yeah. Why?’ Now she watched his face in the mirror. ‘No reason. A movie here, that’d be cool.’ She said nothing, watching him with a wry smile.
