Which means I can't just go push the button right now in front of everyone and have it start vibrating. That would just look very bad for Natalie who's supposed to be presenting.
So she's supposed to trust me doing that.
And I'm supposed to trust her that she did put the fucking bullet in. Because if I didn't trust her and wanted to check and see, then I'd give it a little buzz right now.
Sure, it wouldn't have any lasting impact. I could maybe even just give it a tap and if I'm lucky just see if she perks up. There's a small chance no one would be the wiser.
But then Natalie would know that she shouldn't have relied on me to keep my fucking word.
And trust me, love, when you've fucked as many broads as I have, the one thing you want to do more than anything else is be true to the one girl who ends up catching your fancy for as long as they do.
Don't eye me like that.
Natalie's a cool cat. But I don't fucking love her or anything yet.
I mean, for fuck's sake, I just met her recently.
But wait, she's already started talking about shit. Let's listen, okay?
"We believe that with a steady period of no press followed by an occasional positive press mention, we could start negating the effects of the Price's extracurricular hijinks within the space of 60 days," Natalie says, pointing to a couple PowerPoint slides that she's got displayed. "This would then follow a slowly increasing ramp up of positive press that would start to shift in focus from repairing his image and doing damage control more to rebuilding it in a positive fashion."
Fuck. This girl is smart at what she does, isn't she, love?
I look to my right. Nadia is nodding along. She's frowning, but she always frowns.
"In short, based on what you saw from our other departments today, we believe that within the next 90 days we can have a complete image makeover completed for Prince Connor," Natalie says.
Her manager is beaming and smiling. He gets up and shakes her hand.
I give a clap and Natalie jerks her head at me, giving me a nervous smile while her manager George gives me a nod.
Nadia remains quiet.
"I know we said questions over the day after this," George says, rubbing his hands together. "But you've been in this room for a long time. Why don't we take the meeting over to Oceana for dinner, and then Natalie, what are our post-dinner plans?" George asks, turning to Natalie.
"We have the Phantom of the Opera box seats if the Prince and his Press Officer wish to indulge," Natalie says evenly.
"Sounds fantastic," I say as Nadia scowls. George doesn't know what to make of the Hand of Death that's Nadia standing next to me, so the portly man just nods.
"Great!" he says, too enthusiastically. Let me grab my coat and we'll be on our way.
He opens the door for Nadia and she stalks out and he follows.
Fuck, I didn't realize it, but it's true. George, Natalie's boss, is clearly fixated on Nadia's ass.
He's following it with his fucking eyes.
Natalie is standing there in the conference room, looking at me.
Eventually she makes for the door as well.
Not so fucking fast, love.
I increase my pace and catch up to her and before she can cross the threshold, I put my arms on her shoulders and whisper into her ear.
"I told you that you could trust me, love," I whisper hoarsely into her ear. "Like I said, I didn't do anything while you were on the clock."
Natalie trembles slightly. I can tell she's excited.