Free Reality Jane by Shannon Nering Page B

teased, giggling girlishly.
    I had hoped that with all the commotion of the DGF (Daily Group Fondle), Karl wouldn’t notice my off-premises lunch break. He generally frowned upon such mid-day escapes. I was supposed to love my job so much that I couldn’t bear to leave until the lights went out. Karl, with his back to me, pulled his wrist to his Bioré-stripped nose, glanced at his watch, andsighed melodramatically, as if my lateness was just too agonizing to endure.
    “Afternoon, guys,” I said carefully, as if I had leaked a big drop of drool.
    “Hi, Jane,” the boys chirped.
    “Uh, Karl,” the token hot straight boy muttered from the hall. “Here’s your tea.”
    “Well, bring it here,” Karl said, motioning flirtatiously. “Come on!”
    The production assistant dutifully handed Karl his tea. The boy looked more embarrassed than I did, which wasn’t easy.
    “Ouch! That’s hot!” Karl nipped, then playfully slapped the assistant’s hand. “Just kidding,” he said, batting his eyelashes. “Thanks.”
    Despite his humiliation, I was glad the assistant provided a diversion from my rather pathetic entrance. I needed a moment to nurse my beleaguered, laser-pocked body with an XL, ginseng-laced Jamba Juice while I reviewed the next day’s shot list at my desk. That’s when Danny bounded toward me.
    “Time for the big meeting, Miss Fabulous,” he whispered into my ear, as if it were some big secret. “We’re getting our final marching orders.”
    In six fast months, Danny had become my shadow—an agro-friendly, completely over-the-top, honey-coated sugar cube with saccharin sprinkles on top. He wiggled around the office in snug Hudsons and tight t-shirts, ready with a “Hello, Sassy Pants” and a frisky smile for everyone. Karl and Naomi got the royal treatment with a “that outfit looks gorgeous, Hot Stuff” and a finger wave, threatening to “eat them” if they persisted in looking “so tasty.” Sincere ? I hadn’t a clue. Most of the time, I wondered what he was up to. In any event, he provided sure-fire office entertainment on a daily basis.
    “Well, Jane, you coming?” Danny said, in his sing-song timbre, tapping his toes. “I’m your date for our big meeting.” “In a minute, uh, thanks.” I was wholly unable to match his enthusiasm. Besides, his idea of a big meeting was me, him, and Karl. “Oh, Danny, did you input the photos of the girls yet? The editor keeps asking me for them.”
    “Soon, Babes! Got to grab my snack.” He scurried to the kitchen to fetch his daily mango yogurt. “BTW, love your hair today!” he shouted. “Very Paris, sans extensions.”
    I had come to learn that getting Danny to actually work, per his job description of “show researcher,” was an impossible task. It was magic how he put off anything that resembled real labor, but continued with his playful ass-kissing and maneuvering to maintain Karl’s good side. This he was genius at.
    Tired of being usurped by my assistant, I entered the boardroom prepared to impress. My contract was up in a month and I needed some financial security. Time to out-kiss the office’s biggest ass-kisser! My plan was to remind Karl of his three Emmy nominations from the late 90’s—a little factoid I dug up and something that had yet to be mentioned during my time at the shop. And that was just my warm-up.
    “Hi, guys,” I started. “Hey, Karl. I wanted to congrat—”
    “Fancy you.” Danny had slipped into the boardroom from behind me, plopping himself down beside Karl, whom he was already addressing. “Did you get that at the Barney’s sample sale? That’s hot on you.”
    “This old thing!” Karl winked. “I just picked it up at. . .”
    My moment was lost to Señor Gay Camp. Next to this guy, I was Debbie Downer. How was I supposed to compete with the master? But for Naomi, I would long ago have been replaced by a big beautiful gay man. For the last month, she was so buried in developing a