Free Emily: Sex and Sensibility by Sandra Marton Page A

drained by exhaustion. She’d have to face Nola. Call Max Pergozin and if he had nothing for her, start the horrible thing known as searching for employment. And as what? Who would employ her? The city was filled with women like her, their heads packed with useless academic nonsense.
    Emily yawned. Yawned again. And drifted, mercifully, into sleep. And, unmercifully, into a dream about a tall, gorgeous hunk of masculinity, with dark hair, dark eyes and a sexy accent, who kissed her and then didn’t stop at kissing her.
    She was moaning when the piercing ring of the telephone jolted her awake.
    Let voice mail take the call. She’d just lie here, close her eyes, see if she could recapture the dream.
    At the sound of the tone, please leave a message.
    “PICK UP THIS PHONE, MADISON! YOU HEAR ME? PICK UP THE GODDAMNED PHONE!”
    Emily shoved the covers aside, flew to the wall of ancient, Lilliputian-sized appliances that passed for a kitchen and grabbed the receiver.
    “Mr. Pergozin?”
    “YOU ARE FIRED, GIRLY. FIRED! YOU GOT THAT?”
    Emily winced, propped the phone against her shoulder, opened the cupboard and searched for a bottle of aspirin.
    “Mr. Pergozin. I know you’re annoyed but—”
    “ANNOYED? ANNOYED?”
    “Please. If you could just lower your voice—”
    “Fine. I’ll lower my voice. Is this low enough? YOU WILL NEVER WORK IN THIS TOWN AGAIN!”
    Emily wrenched open the aspirin bottle, dumped three tablets on the counter, turned on the water in the sink, popped the tablets into her mouth, bent down, angled her head, slurped at the water and swallowed hard. The tablets stuck in her throat and she coughed, dragged in a breath and said, “Look, I don’t know what Gus told you but—”
    “He told me what I already suspected. That you’re a dainty prima donna with no more brains than a cockroach!”
    “If you’d just listen—”
    “Didn’t you hear me? You are fired!”
    Emily stood straighter.
    “You can’t fire me. I’m your client. I’m the one who does the firing.”
    “Do I give a crap how you say it? You are done. Got that? D-O-N-E. Done!”
    Emily could feel her mouth trembling. “This isn’t fair! Whatever Gus said—”
    “I just told you what he said. Want me to tell you again?”
    “Gus owes me money for—”
    Max laughed.
    “He owes me! I worked four nights and—”
    “Fine. Sue him.”
    “Mr. Pergozin. Please. There were extenuating circumstances—”
    “That’s it. Use big words. Try and impress me with that fancy degree. You don’t got the brains you were born with; blowing a job my other clients would have killed for.”
    Really? she thought, but she forced herself not to say that. Instead, she bit the bullet and said that what had happened was unfortunate, and that she would take any other gig he had…
    Max laughed and laughed and laughed.
    “I take it that’s a no,” Emily said with all the poise she could muster, and then she slammed the phone back into its cradle. “Stupid, horrid, miserable, awful little man!”
    “Problem?” Nola said carefully.
    Emily swung toward her. Her roommate held out a mug of coffee. She grabbed it and took a long swallow.
    “That was my agent.”
    “Uh-huh.”
    “He, ah, he’s not happy.”
    “No kidding.”
    Emily sighed. “I lost my job at the Tune-In.”
    “Oh, sweetie! That’s too bad.”
    “Yeah,” Emily said unhappily. “And Max said—”
    “Never mind Max. How are you for cash?”
    Emily felt her face heat. “Not good. In fact, I hate to ask but—”
    “Not to worry. I’ll take care of this month’s rent.”
    “Oh, that’s lovely! Thank you. As soon as I find something else, I’ll—”
    “Actually—actually, there’s something I have to tell you, too.”
    Nola was biting her fingernails. After a while, you knew how to read a roommate. Nola’s biting her fingernails was not a good sign.
    “What?”
    “That part I auditioned for last week? The second lead in the touring company production of