Chapter 287: Pigshit Airlines and Reality Tv Exec

The other good thing about flying with PigShit Airlines was that I got to carry a pistol. Actually I carried two pistols and a box opener. I carried the Glock, 10mm ugly automatic, in a belt holster on my ass, and the .38 concealed hammer revolver in my purse. The flat box opener, I carried it in the hip pocket of my well worn jeans.

The limo dropped me at the hotel, which was also chosen by our travel agent. I signed the register with Maxine's old signature, even thought I had a dozen more programed inside my electron shooting brain.

Believe it or not a jet engine produced a lot of free electrons. I wasn't at full charge but I was close enough not to even think about it. I could have stayed in the room with Jen but I feared that she might get drunk and romantic. It was part of Maxine's old baggage. I made sure that the Gentlemen Farmers knew that being the way I was, created some problems. I wanted to be able to pass for the old Maxine in all situations, so I tried not to miss a chance to needle them. Even if I didn't express it directly to them.

"Yeah you could have saved a few bucks, if I had been set up right to begin with. I could have stayed in the room with Jennifer. If I had to, I could have gone into the bathroom for a quick charge. I could have called it a slow bowel movement," I said to the wall. Okay, sometimes I did express it directly to them.

We are thinking about it, was the reply that just appeared on my computer chip.

The room wasn't bad, I knew it had to be over priced. It was after all California. Not to mention that we were in the hotel where the real TV stars were also staying. The knock on the door could only be Jennifer, so I didn't look first. So of course it wasn't Jennifer it was Mike.

"My God woman I heard they tried to kill you again. Damn you look great, what did you do have a nip and tuck while they were cutting the bullet out of you." Mike asked.

"Actually, while I was in rehab I decided to have it done. What the hell are you doing here?" I asked.

"I want to talk to you about next season," he suggested.

"We are through Mike, you know that was the arrangement. You shoot for a specified time then it is over. The time has passed and it is over." I was sure he understood. Why he was bringing it up again was beyond me.

"I was thrilled when I heard Jen was your escort. Not only is she in the show, she is your legal representative. We can all sit down and do the new deal over lunch," he suggested.

"Mike, we were up most of the night. I am sure Jen is sleeping and is not going to be doing lunch today," I said.

"Then we can do dinner before the reception for nominees," he suggested. "We can all meet for dinner at say six. I know you guys eat early down there in Smallville," he said.

"Insult me again, and I might just skip dinner," I suggested. I controlled myself, so that I didn't add, you might not have any teeth to eat it with.

"I didn't mean that as an insult to you personally," he said.

"Mike, when you realize you are digging your own grave, it's time to put down the shovel," I suggested.

"Okay then I will stop by for you at six."

"You do that hon, but remember we don't dress for dinner in Smallville," I snapped at him as he left. I had put too much of myself into Aster lately to have some Yankee asshole run it down, without at least a fight of some kind.

Jen called my room around 4PM. "Jen," I began to explain. Mike was here earlier. He wants to talk to us about a new season of the show. If you need to take a pill to clear the jetlag do it now. I'm sure that Mike has a surprise or two for us. He is in his TV producer mode."

"So what is the plan?" she asked.

"Dinner somewhere informal, so he can pitch us," I replied. He will be here in a couple of hours, so get your ass moving. One of the great things about having your face painted on was that it made makeup unnecessary, most of the time. Such was the case that night.

So Jen was in my room just a few minutes before Mike showed up. I was glad that I didn't have to hunt her down.

"Jen, how the hell are you?" he asked as his friend hung back. Before she could answer him, he turned to me. "Maxine this is Mr. Adams he is the new head of the Reality TV Network."

I extended my hand to him. "Nice to meet you Mr. Adams," I said.

"I have really been looking forward to meeting you Maxine. So how do you feel about being nominated for an Emmy?" he asked.

I could tell he wanted me to be more excited than I was. I tried to react as I would have even in the Maxine body. "To be honest I am a little surprised. I haven't been able to wrap my head around it. There are people who work years refining their craft and I'm being rewarded for Mike and Gwen's work. It's kind of sad if you think of it that way. Some of those reality shows are set ups, so those women are working at their craft, I guess."

"Not to worry dear, they are not at all what they seem. You on the other hand are exactly what you seem on screen." Adams said.

"Mr. Adams, this is my friend Jennifer," I suggested more to change the subject than anything else.

After the pleasantries we headed out to a quiet restaurant where my worn jeans weren't to far out of place. It was a good thing that Jen had forced me to wear the sexy red top. I ordinarily would not have been caught dead in that thing. With that top I most likely wouldn't get us thrown out.