Funny Feelings (9)

I have my reasons for my initial hesitation, but half the battle in this field is getting your name out there, gaining a following. And unfortunately, women still have extra hills to climb when it comes to stand-up. He’s a man. How dare he hold me to some arbitrary code when he’s got no clue?

Publicity stunts, as a rule, aren’t limited to women, either. I may not have been privy to the fact that these stunts might include pairing up for show, but I do know that, at least. Plenty of men do it without catching an ounce of flack for it. It’s business.

“Who are the other options you’re considering for me?” I ask, before Kara can respond, or leave.

She turns her glare away from Meyer at the same time I feel his turn on me. “There are plenty. In fact, there are three I confirmed on the way here that would be up for it, so I’m willing to leave that up to you. There are two of Tyson’s teammates who could use a bit of PR to help secure some brand deals and such. The comedian angle is enticing, though, and I happen to know that Declan Crowe is looking for some positive attention.”

Meyer shakes his head. “You mean folks don’t respond positively to heroin and slapping around your girlfriend?” he seethes.

“Allegedly,” Clay corrects.

“I’ll do it. One of the sports ball guys, though,” I say before Meyer can explode.

“Perfect. We’ll get plenty of public appearances in that way through football season before the tour starts in spring. Some group photos could be cute and cozy, too,” Kara declares with a smile.

“Just hold on one fucking second here. I want to understand what the thinking behind suggesting me, now, was in the first place,” Meyer chimes in.

“Clay?” Kara prompts.

Clay nods, prepared. “Well, to be honest, you’re a bit of an enigma. You disappeared right as you peaked. People in the business know you’re still actively writing and managing Farley now, but there’s a general curiosity around you when it comes to the public. Once we announce that she’s going on tour with us, and start testing out material at smaller venues, she’s going to be in the limelight anyway. It would stir up that curiosity more to have you publicly acknowledged by her side. Especially when people connect some of the material,” Clay declares.

“If we agree, I’d want outlined specific events and to know when we’re going to be photographed. No one just randomly following us around. I have a daughter,” Meyer says, pointing a finger on the table with finality.

Guilt flares through me, hot and sour, at the mention of Hazel. “Meyer, I’ll just date a footballer. Really, it’s fine.”

He only glares at me harder. “Is that what you want?” His nostrils flick out and his eyes dart between mine.

“Well, no, obviously I think it would be easier for you, and I just… you know, based on semantics alone, but…”

“I’ll do it,” he says, more to Kara than to me.

“Clay and I can work with Shauna and her manager to get together a schedule and a list,” Kara replies, after a cursory glance my way.

Meyer nods, and we all shake hands when we emerge from the booth.

In true comic form, since we are unable to handle things with seriousness for any stretch of time, Kara breaks up the silence with a joke.

“Honestly, I tell jokes about my son’s baby boners and licking my husband’s ass hole. So, I exploit the hell out of them. Don’t feel bad about putting on a little show. We’re going to have the best fucking time, I promise.”





I beat Meyer to his car so that I can avoid him opening my door for me, but, with my typical subtle grace, I fling the door too hard and myself along with it. He steadies me from behind with his palms on my arms, his breath puffing out against my hair before he lets me go and stomps around to the driver’s side.

It’s after ten PM, but it’s a Saturday night and the L.A. traffic behaves accordingly. We sit in baited silence, crawling along the freeway for twenty minutes—and probably just as many yards—before I cave.

“Meyer, I’m sorry. But listen, you really don’t need to do this if you don’t want to. I don’t want to burden you with me any more than I already do.”

He responds with a scoff.

“What?! I’m telling you that you’re off the hook!” I say.

“I’m not playing into your bullshit, Fee. You’re not a burden and you damn well know it. I agreed to do this, so I am doing it. Your success is my success, too, and I want you to have this.”

“Then why are you so angry about it? I’m wondering if I should start to get offended.”

“Well, wouldn’t that be something? I can’t even imagine it. You, offended?”

“Meyer.”

“Jones.”

“Just tell me what’s going through your head. Please.”

He sighs and hazards a glance my way. “What if you meet someone? I worry that you already spend all your time with Hazel and me as it is. You’re young, beautiful, and clearly have a bright future ahead of you.”

My brain does me a solid and decides not to process him calling me beautiful, for now. Traditionally sweet compliments outside of my work make me want to break out in hives. “I am on the verge of officially making it, Meyer. Of positioning myself to do whatever I want in this business. It would be the wrong time for me to meet someone, anyway. Not to mention, I love spending my time with you guys, and you damn well know that.” I also just love you, but you don’t need to know that. Ever. “Also, can you stop acting like you’re ancient, grandpa? For fuck’s sake, Meyer. You’re a catch, too, and I don’t see you doing anything about it.”