Free The Next Big Thing by Johanna Edwards

our sorrows over dinner at Buckley’s. I was mourning shattered expectations, and Donna was mourning the loss of a relationship; she’d officially broken up with Chip earlier that afternoon. A delectable meal of pasta and red wine seemed in order.
    Fuck my perpetual diet. If I wasn’t going to be on television, what did it matter anyway?
    I shook my head. “I thought of that, too. But California is only two hours behind Memphis. I didn’t get out of the office until after seven-thirty. If she’d called, I’d know.”
    “Maybe she assumed you’d gone home and tried your apartment,” Donna suggested.
    “Nope, nothing on the Caller ID. I checked.”
    I took a big bite of Italian spinach.
    “Oh.” Donna finished her glass of wine, and poured herself a fresh one. “You know how these Hollywood types are. Busy as hell! From Fat to Fabulous here you come!”
    “ Shhh! Keep your voice down!” Donna shrugged in confusion. “What’s up?”
    “I’d kind of like to keep it quiet,” I whispered, looking around the dimly lit restaurant. “You can never be too careful.”
    “Oh.” Donna shook her head knowingly. “Legal reasons, right? You could get disqualified for talking about it.” She stuffed a whole piece of garlic toast in her mouth.
    “No, nothing like that. It’s just,” I paused, searching for the right words, “I guess I’m embarrassed about it, that’s all. The title alone is kind of humiliating. I don’t want people to know.”
    “It’s going to be hard to keep secret once you’re on national freakin’ television,” she snickered. Suddenly, her eyes got huge. “You know what you’ve gotta do, Kat? If you wanna get on the show, you gotta be proactive about it.”
    “Proactive? ” I repeated, through bites of ravioli.
    “Don’t sit back and let this Zula woman come to you.”
    “Zaidee,” I corrected. “Whatever. Show her you mean business. Let her know that Kat Larson wants a shot!”
    When I didn’t say anything, she continued, “Call her office first thing tomorrow, pester her a little. It’ll prove how interested you are. That’s exactly what my cousin did to get her internship at that Wall Street firm. She sent their office semi harassing faxes for weeks.”
    “Somehow I think this is a little bit different. Wall Street versus a cheesy reality show,” I said, weighing the two options with my hands. “They’re not exactly in the same league, if you catch my drift.”
    Donna chugged down more wine. “Yeah, if you ask me, the reality show is a hell of a lot more interesting. Who wants to work at the stock exchange?” She scrunched up her face.
    “Well, anyway, I can’t call. The application specifically said not to.”
    Donna dismissed this. “Don’t listen to that BS. That’s the message the Wall Street brokers spewed, and they didn’t mean a word of it. Come on, I bet this will increase your chances big-time.”
    I wasn’t so sure. For Donna maybe that kind of strategy might work. But I’m just not aggressive enough to pull it off.
    “It’s a bad idea.”
    “What- ever, Kat. You’d be great! I could coach you on it.” I motioned again for her to keep it down. The wine was really starting to go to her head. Fortunately, I was the designated driver.
    “I don’t have Zaidee’s office number,” I lied.
    “Google, baby. They’ve got every commercial listing in the country.”
    “That reminds me.” I groaned, moving on to another sore subject.
    “Nick sent me an electronic greeting card today. The message read, ‘Less than a week! The big surprise will soon be en route. Love always, Nicholas J. Appleby.’ He signed his full name, which he never does. He says it reminds him of a Charles Dickens character. What do you make of that?”
    “Charles Dickens!” Donna erupted in a fit of laughter. “ Dick ens,” she said, emphasizing the first syllable. “Why don’t we call Richard ‘Dick’? Dick Geddlefinger. That sounds about right.”
    “Oh