She let the glass hit the desk, slightly popping the golden liquid upward like a fountain. Her smile melted away when she imagined telling him about her news, about the fact that she had to go to L.A. She figured he wouldn’t want to … he’d want to go back to his home country immediately.
Without thinking twice, April shot the rest of her booze back into her throat. It didn’t burn as much as the first one, but it still moved down her esophagus with a slight sting. It was the sting that she wanted, even if only a momentary distraction.
She wasn’t passing up the chance to do something big with the story. It was an exposure story, plus with a film and possible book attached, the story would get out to a higher, more sophisticated audience. It was quite literally the chance of a lifetime.
Ap
