Shattered Glass Page #4

was on the fifth floor getting loaded.

Drugs, binge drinking,

hookers...

it gets pretty ugly.

- Sounds great, Steve.

- So does yours.

Okay, well, I gotta get back to work.

Have a good lunch.

Thanks.

Hold it. Have to give myself

a demerit for poor scene setting.

Let me explain. A year ago,

Chuck Lane and I were peers.

He hadn't become editor yet.

Michael Kelly was editing

the magazine then.

Sorry, Mrs. Duke.

I know how you feel about clarity.

We've got to start calling

some other places.

I don't think I can

eat this stuff every day.

It was the Cannon Building.

You had it as "Russell."

I fixed it.

- Thank you.

- I really liked it, Ames.

But boring, right?

No. No. I really,

really liked it.

- Ahem...

- Yes, dear?

Somebody for you on three...

someone from Harper's.

When did you start

talking to Harper's?

I'm not. It's probably nothing.

Could you send it to my voicemail?

- Very good.

- By the way, Glo',

that lipstick is the bomb.

- Thanks, doll.

- Was it "Midnight Mist"?

- I've really got to stop doing that.

- What?

All I do is give people

more reasons to assume I'm gay.

I mean, lately,

it's everyone.

The other night, I went out to dinner

with this guy from The Post...

- Who?

- I can't tell you, he made me promise.

Anyway, we're walking afterwards,

talking about Medicare for God's sakes,

the next thing I know is we're standing

on the corner of th and "T"...

and he somehow managed

to slip his tongue down my throat.

And I'm like, "Wait a minute,

how'd this happen?"

I don't understand.

- Neither did I.

- Hey!

- Michael.

- Do you have a minute?

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