Spitting Image • TFC 3.0 • l.t. au

Chapter Nine

9

After hours of boring broadcast, talking about books and women of Britain in the earlier century, I'm still wondering when this will end. I check my watch and see it's nearly noontime. Meaning I have to pick up Blaine in a while.

Finally, Dean says the words I've been waiting to hear, "Thank You, Mr. Corwin. We're all looking forward to working with you. Any last words to the audience?"

"Only to read while you can. Books are marvellous, you know." he says with a laugh. I've never seen A younger successful author in my life.

"Well, if that's all.... Megan," he waves me over and I raise my eyebrows at him. I'm not allowed in the station. "Now ladies and gentlemen, we're going to take a quick break then we'll be back with Bernard That was Vladimir Corwin, author of Maiden of Mischief. We forgot to tell you, a book signing will be held at Waterstones in Stratford City on the 3rd week of October. No specific dates yet but tune in."

The red light goes off and Dean stands from his spot and shakes Corwin's hand. The two steps out, still in conversation. "It was very nice meeting you at last, Mr. Corwin." Dean says and I hope that's goodbye.

"Thank you for having me. Megan," he turns to me and I raise my eyebrows. "Would you like to join us for some coffee?"

I smile politely as I can or more like the least sarcastic smile I can have. "Thank you but no thank you. I'm a bit occupied at the moment." I say.

"really? With what?" he asks nosily. I held my chin up and smile.

"Im picking up my son from daycare, if you must know." I tell him and his eyes go wide. "What?" I ask.

"I'm sorry, you look so young to be a mother." He laughs. He laughs... "You look like you're 18..." he laughs again.

What's that suppose to mean? I had to bite my tongue. "For your information, Mr. Corwin, I'm 26." I say, feeling my chest beat so rapidly from the effort of not biting him back with words because that would cause me my job.

Now I have a feeling that if I don't get out of here, I might get fired for saying something inappropriate to him. "Have a good lunch, everyone. I'll see you back in the studio, Mr. Corwin, yeah?" I say, turning around to leave the room.

"Sorry, I didn't catch your surname." he says. Before I know it, hes already grabbed my arm.

"Tomlinson. Megan Tomlinson." I say then he let's me go. And I'm out of here.

~~~~

"Mommy, where are we going?" Blaine asks me as we enter the studio. It nearly 1PM so most of the production will be here.

He tugs on my jacket, making it impossible to ignore him. I knelt to his height and thats when I notice how grumpy he is.

"Well, mum's got a lot work to do," I say, brushing his cheek with my thumb, "you can play with Patrick, is that alright?" I ask him but he shakes his head.

"Why not, darling?" I ask him, tilting his chin up. He loves to spend time with Patrick before.

"Wanna go home." he said with sniffle, scratching his eyes.

"Dont cry, now. Tell you what, you play with Patrick now and we'll go see dad after, is that alright?" I ask him but he kept his head bowed. "and you can play football with daddy, yeah?"

He then looks up. It looks like he's stifling a smile. I smile at him so he'll smile too. "Show mommy that smile, now." I say, pinching his little nose. He giggles adorably and closed his mouth right away. This time, though, with a little smile on his face.