This week is picture prompt week. We had our choice of picture. We are restricted to only 300 words, as well. Harley Brennan's story continues. Here's the picture I chose...
She sighed as she slipped the key
card into the lock. It had been a hard
day. In spite of her reputation, she’d had to prove herself to people she’d
never worked with before. With her efforts to forget Harley failing, Shy’s nerve were shot.
She toed
off her shoes and padded over to the huge window overlooking the beach. Would the moon be that beautiful when Harley and some chickie were out there, trying to fall in love?
Penny, Mark Davis’ wife, called.
“How’s it going?”
“Well,
it’s…uh, it’s.” Tears clouded her eyes. Her shoulders sagged.
“What’s wrong? Shy? Shyla? Talk to
me.”
Emotion had closed her throat. She
wiped furiously at her eyes.
Stupid
crybaby. It’s your own fault!
“Are you there?”
After a deep shuddering breath, she
found her voice. “I’m here.”
“What the hell? What’s going on?
What’s wrong?”
“I thought this would be a piece of
cake, kind of like a joke, with me behind the scenes where Harley can’t see
me.” She grabbed a tissue and blew her nose.
“Isn’t it?”
Shyla shook her head, even though her
friend couldn’t see. “No way. It’s horrible. I’m going to be creating all these
sexy, seductive settings so Harley and some girl can get the hots for each
other and fall in love. I hate it.”
“Oh, Shy!”
“And the producers doubt everything I
say. Whatever made me think I could do this?”
“You can’t leave now, can you?”
“I signed a contract. I’m in. Damn
it.”
“It’s only two months.”
“It seems like a lifetime.”
“You can do it. You’re a
professional. Just stay way behind the scenes, pretend you’re doing it for
someone else and show those people you’re the best designer in the world.”
“Easy for you to say.” Shyla finished
the bottle.
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