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Daphne: Not THAT kind of escort. A media escort.
Chris: That doesn’t sound nearly as interesting. Why don’t you come along?
Daphne: It’s complicated.
Chris: I don’t think it is. You’re the writer, and you should be there.
Daphne: I… I can’t.
Chris: Cell phone troubles incoming, right?
Daphne: No. I just… I’m really busy. And you’ll do great. I know you will.
Chris: Okay. We’ll talk later. I gotta go.
JUNE 2
Daphne: What the #$%@ hell, Chris?
Chris: You actually typed #$%@. That’s so cute.
Daphne: You agreed to an in-person interview? At MY HOME???
Chris: It’s New Gotham magazine. You saw the email from Lyndsay. Wait, is it still Lyndsay? I can’t keep track.
Daphne: Chris…
Chris: You saw the email. This is HUGE. They want to fly all the way to Whitehorse to interview Zane. New Gotham Magazine! Even I know what that is. I don’t think we could say no.
Daphne: How about letting me try?
Chris: Honestly, D, it didn’t seem like your publisher was actually asking. They were just letting you know it was happening. If you want to tell them you’ve changed your mind, go ahead. I’ll stay out of it.
Chris: D? You still there?
Daphne: Yes. You’re right. They didn’t seem to be asking. Sorry I snapped.
Chris: I’ve got this. Don’t worry. It’s not until next Friday. I’ll drive up.
Daphne: Do you even know where Whitehorse is?
Chris: Couple hours north.
Daphne: By PLANE.
Chris: Then I’ll fly. I still have that bonus you paid me for hitting the New Yorker list.
Daphne: New York Times.
Chris: I’ll call once I’m there.
Daphne: You are not coming here.
Daphne: Chris?
DAPHNE
Chris was on his way to Whitehorse. To her house. And she still didn’t know how this happened. As she frantically cleaned, Nia kept texting.
