The Cost of Being Stupid

 

 

I'm in the middle of taking a shower when I hear the door to my room open.  The DO NOT DISTURB sign is hanging on the door so there's only one person who would come in anyway.

 

My trusty assistant, Donnatella.

 

"Joshua, that's it, I QUIT," she yells as she pounds on the bathroom door.

 

Not exactly the greeting I was expecting so I finish up quickly and turn off the water.  I peek around the curtain to make sure Donna's still on the other side of the door.  Not that I would mind getting out of the shower with her in the room but now is not the time, we have a busy day ahead of us.  And when we do finally get together I would rather her not be screaming at me. 

 

Screaming, yes.  Screaming at me, no.

 

As I finish drying off I turn to grab my robe and it's not on the back of the door.  "Donna, hand me my robe,"

 

"Oh for the love of God, just come out here."

 

"Well, who am I to argue with that," I mutter to myself as I knot the towel around my waist and open the door.  A puff of steam escapes as I walk out into my room.  Donna is face down on my bed, minus her shoes, not a good sign as this is how she ends up when she's had too much to drink.  I'm thinking that's not her problem as it's only 10 in the morning.  But maybe she and Ivan Perez had too many mimosas over breakfast.

 

"Uh, so how was breakfast?" I ask as I run my hands through my hair and started to pull some clothes out of my suitcase.  My back is to Donna so I glance over my shoulder to see if she's still face down.  She is, so I drop the towel to quickly pull on my boxers.

 

"Nice ass," she mutters from the bed. 

 

"Great," I mumble as I pull up the boxers and turn around.  Donna's still on her stomach but she'd got her head turned so she was able to catch a glimpse of me through a veil of beautiful blond hair.

 

"Not like it was the first time, Joshua."

 

She never fails to remind me she got numerous glimpses of my butt during my recovery from the shooting.  Damn backless hospital gowns.

 

I pull on an undershirt and sit down next to her on the bed.  She's still face down so I tentatively reached out to rub her back.

 

"Don't try to be nice to me," she says, in a somewhat teasing tone.  I move my hand and she turns and pouts.  I take that to mean she wants me to rub her back.  I can tell this is going to be a rough conversation with me trying to figure out what is going on.  Thank God I had 3 cups of coffee earlier.  I think I'm going to need it.

 

"What happened?"

 

"He's a Communist," she yells as she kicks her feet against the bed.

 

"Who's a Communist?"

 

"Ivan Perez."

 

"What the hell, I thought he was a farmer?"

 

"He's that too.  Apparently he ran for governor under the Communist Party."

 

"And we didn't know that?" I snort.

 

"No WE didn't know that," she yells.

 

"OK, so it wasn't like you were photographed or anything," I say, trying to brush the incident off.

 

She turns her head and brushes back her hair as she stares at me.  She gives me her patented "You really are an idiot" look.

 

"Oh God," I groan as I flop onto my back and rub my eyes.

 

She explains the whole story, including the part about Sam firing the guy because he called her stupid.  I would have killed the guy, forget about just firing him.

 

I glance at my watch.  It's time to finish getting ready to go.  "So you ready to get back to work."

 

"No Joshua, I quit," she groans as she rolls over onto her back.

 

And for a split second my heart sinks as I realize someday she'll really mean those words.  Her slight grin at the moment gives away her true feelings.  "Yeah, yeah, you quit.  So do you have the notes for the thing?"

 

"Yes, they're in my room. I'll be back in a minute."  She heads out the door and I grab my clean suit out of the closet.

 

I'm in the bathroom brushing my teeth when she comes back in. 

 

"I think you owe me," she says as she comes into the bathroom and sits on the counter.  This is going to cost me, big time.

 

"I owe you?  I give you more responsibility and this is the thanks I get."

 

"You sent me to meet with a Communist," she says, poking me in the chest for emphasis.

 

"How was I supposed to know that?  That's your job," I blurt out.  Oh God, that was the wrong thing to say.  Donna's eyes narrow and she's taking a deep breath, probably trying not to slap me.  "Can I blame that comment on jet lag?" I ask, weakly.

 

Donna stares at me for a minute and I do my best to look innocent, not an easy feat for me.

 

"So the message I got off the voice mail, was that the first you'd heard from Ivan Perez?" she asks as I leave the room and get my tie.  "Joshua, when did he call you?"

 

OK, now would be a perfect time for the ground to just open up and swallow me whole.  This is southern California, how about an earthquake, centered around my hotel room.  Is that too much to ask for?  "Last week," I answer meekly."

 

When I get back to the bathroom she's still sitting on the counter.  She doesn't look happy, but she doesn't look mad either.  She looks frustrated.

 

"If you had mentioned my assignment before we left Washington this would not have happened.  I could have just run his name through Google and found out some important details.  But no, you have to wait until we're 30,000 feet in the air."

 

I don't even know what to say.

 

"Josh," she starts as she holds out her hand for me to hand over the tie.  "You say my job is important and that I'm valuable.  But lately, you haven't made it easy for me to do my job.  Little things like this have been happening more and more lately.  You want more from me and that's fine.  I want more responsibility, even if it means a trip to the middle of no where."

 

"Donna, for the last time it was North Dakota," I say, mirroring the small smirk on her face.

 

"I know," she teases as she flips up my collar and puts the tie around my neck.  I take a step closer to stand between her knees. 

 

"I'm sorry," I whisper as I put my hands on her shoulders as she tightens the knot and runs her hand down my chest. "So you still quitting?"

 

"What, and give up all this?" she snorts as she waves around the bathroom.  "I can't quit, who else could hold you together?"

 

"Nobody could hold me together like you do," I say, hopefully sincerely.

 

She nods and puts her hands on my hips and pulls me close enough so she can rest her head against my chest.  I smooth down her hair and kiss the top of her head.  It's time for me to ask the big question.  "So what's this going to cost me?" I ask as I take a step back and look at her.

 

By the look on her face this is REALLY going to cost me.

 

"There's a Starbucks around the corner, a Toffee Nut Latte, venti, 3 hours off this afternoon so I can work on my tan, next weekend off, and your Cat in the Hat boxers."

 

I sigh and organize my counter offer.  "Yes, to the Starbucks, 2 hours off, next Sunday off and you can borrow the boxers."

 

"Deal," she smirks as she kisses my cheek and slides off the counter.  She goes over to my suitcase and roots around and grabs the boxers.  Yeah, I'll never get them back again.

 

"So, seriously, are we ok?"  I ask as I slip my arms into my suit jacket.

 

"We are fine," she assures me as she straightens my lapels and brushes invisible lint from my shoulders.  "Let's go, Starbucks is calling," she says with a smile as she grabs my hand and pulls me from the room.

 

THE END

 

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