ALICE Ch 115

Annette’s office in Miami is quietly extravagant. It’s vast, with a total view of the city and the sea. Annette is the founder of FUTA; with a single pitch for a horny blend of sports and reality TV, she became the creator of an empire.

She gets to her feet as Glynda Darcy enters the cool, minimalist space and crosses to the glass desk. Annette sits in one of the two white armchairs in front of it, and Annette takes the other. She’s not quite dressed for the Miami heat and humidity in her gray pantsuit, although the outfit is flattering to her impressive curves. Annette is effortlessly elegant in her linen pants and white blouse.

“Have you seen the Diorgasm ad?” Annette asks, tapping a finger on her phone, which is facedown on the arm of her chair.

“I saw it in the car,” Glynda replies.

“They really like her.”

Glynda nods. It’s true. Alice’s popularity has skyrocketed, and the initial reactions to this erotic advertisement will only feed that.

“I didn’t quite expect this,” Annette admits. “She’s not the prettiest. I mean, she has a face like that girl from that movie. Pixar movie. With the bow and the bear?” She snaps her fingers a few times. “It’ll come to me. She’s a flat-chested stork and she comes off like… I don’t know. If a young Jim Carrey was a girl. With a penis.” Annette snorts. “It’s not like it was in the old days when I had girls like Riley Jameson. One look at her and you know she’s born to be a star. Pretty. Sexy. Talented. And now we have someone poised to be much bigger.”

Glynda nods.

“I don’t need Alice Wilde to be…” Annette frowns. “Who’s the guy who wins all the races?”

“Max. Max Verstappen,” Glynda supplies.

“Right. I don’t need her to be him. But we have to do a little better than this. She has all this charisma that works great off the track. I just saw her this morning on the reveal. She was so cute. Humble. Funny. She’s amazing. But that doesn’t do us any good if she isn’t racing.” She sighs deeply. “It certainly doesn’t do us any good if she isn’t racing for us. What happened with the Russians?”

Glynda grimaces.

“I don’t know if I can salvage that,” she says truthfully.

“That’s not really an answer to the question that I asked.”

“I know.”

“What kind of sketchy shit are you doing?” Annette asks without judgment.

“It’s never been said aloud,” Glynda replies. “But I think Irina Orlova wants sexual favors from Alice.”

Annette's brows rise. “Well. I guess I can’t be too judgmental about that.”

“I’m not entirely certain that Alice quite understands that,” Glynda goes on. “And I can’t—won’t pressure her to do that. Sack me if you like.”

“That’s not the conversation we’re having. Not yet,” Annette adds.

Then her phone dings. And again. And again.

Irked, Annette picks it up. “Glynda?”

“Yes?”

“Where’s your daughter right now?”