Mallory?
Miss Tagget?
Are you busy at the moment?
Always, Ma’m. Is there something
you need me to do?…I…Mr. Michaels’ schedule is quite full, and he’s off to
Moscow in the morning, so…
I understand. Is there anyone that
might fill-in for a half-hour or so?
Now?! No!…that is, I doubt that.
I’m juggling schedules for the next six days…appointments, flights,
meetings…not always reliable…I couldn’t possibly bring anyone up to speed
without losing precious time… It would take the rest of the day just to explain
his itinerary…not to mention his personal preferences…medications, allergies.
Sorry, Miss Tagget, but I’ve six more hours ahead of me on this.
Oh! That’s late! Very well…
But tomorrow AM, while he’s in air, I could find the time, if
you don’t mind me checking my texts for updates…?
Fine. That’s understandable and
admirable. If you’d like we could do it late…11?
That’s kind but I may sleep over on the sofa…be back on the
phones by 7.
Ahh. Yes. Well…we can pick up that subject in the morning.
Let’s say 8 in that case.
Okay. Eight.
Don’t work too late.
G’night.
The next morning, April Tagget was a tad tardy because she
required an extra shot of espresso just to get started…what with her apnea…and
late night brandy. (Like it’s so pleasant to have to dismiss people for
‘natural causes’ just because you have that talent). Case in point; Mallory Jenks.
Good morning Ms. Tagget.
Oh! Mallory?! How did you get in…? How did you open up my
office?
Mr. Michael entrusts me with the ‘masters’ while he’s gone.
I thought I’d not hold up your day. The coffee is ready if you’d like…
Well, yes. But no rush, and I’ll get it. Let me settle in.
How long have you been here?
Mr. Michael signed off at 4:45 our time…
This morning?! Oh. You are tireless, my Dear.
Taking advantage of the quiet to get things done. We do our
jobs.
Excellent transition point…
Sorry?
I am also here to do my job, Miss Jenks, and in this case,
the job concerns you.
I am sorry but I do not have time for this. Mr. Michaels is
en route …what are you talking about?…you have no idea what this means.
Is that right? Feeling Rushed? Shall I get to the point?
Please.
Is this your buttock, Ms. Jenks?
No.
Not your Tattoo?
Noo..
Well that is consistent with your Entry Questionnaire. “Any
identifying marks, scars, or tattoos…?” and you answered - None.
Nothing has changed.
That’s the mystery.
What “Mystery”?
Take a look…..freeze….the
tattoo.
(….quiet…)
Miss Jenks…?
That’s not my ass.
You understand where this goes next…?
Not in your lifetime sister. I’d die first.
Come on, Miss Jenks, it’s the 21st Century and I
don’t have a drawer full of rubber gloves. You’ll go to the company clinic…you
know the one, down on 3 ? Maybe
get your pills there…? I do. They will perform a visual and physical review and
update. Never know with moles, melanomas…Nothing internal, or intrusive…I personally assure you…but BP, height , weight, eyes…not your annual physical. Just a Tune Up Special.
Are you shitting me? This is akin to corporate rape.
You can’t be serious Mallory. This is YOUR ass on HIS desk with
YOUR MOUTH…See, right there, when you ‘flipped” … YOUR TATTOO. Are you both so
stupid as to leave the monitors on all night. For chrissakes…corporate rape? Oh, look, there's the sofa...You
fucked the corporation, Sister.
I hope this interview is being recorded. This is facist…
Facist my ass…your ass…and I forgot to turn on the monitors.
Stupid ME. I can do so if you like, but understand I am giving you a
break. You better be damn sure of your performance. One take. Then trial.
Otherwise, I will need to see the tattoo. If it’s ‘you’ it’s cool, but if it’s
some outside slice, we might have a problem with security and Mr Michaels' frame of mind.
He wouldn’t.
So are you saying it wasn't someone else?…and this is not your tattoo? If it is, all information will be held in extreme
confidence…and what a lovely Script to
boot. CHARLOTTE . Is there a ‘message’ there?
Yeah, Kiss my Mother.
What the hell does that mean “extreme confidence”? There is no such thing, is
there? In this day and time? It’s
none of your fucking business. I’m fucking sitting here looking at my own ass
fucking my boss with fucking Fascist Franny… Do you even know who you are compromising here?
You know that many F-words alone… within the context of a
brief business-oriented conversation….one conversation, 8 - 12 minutes on
average….that alone could…
On the night she died.
Oh.
The date is on the other side.
I did not see that.
You won’t. It hurt.
I see.
As for him?
As for him…
Right now I’m all he’s got.
Don’t fall for that…
He’s landing.
Leaving you in the air?
Would you like to leave it there, April?
... your phone. Excellent coffee. Nice chat....Best to Mr Michaels.
