Self-made Media Star

"Bugger, you've caught me again. You must have been awake with the crows."

Coco's laugh made him laugh and she thought perhaps his slowness in responding and conservatism meant he was still under the clutches of a domineering mother.

Chapter 2

At dinner at a family restaurant, while they ate their delicious prawn entrées, Coco asked Stu did he still live at home.

"Yes."

"Alone with your mother?"

"With my mother and her never-married sister. Mum is a divorcee."

"Ah, and do those two females dominate the conversation and constantly tell you what to do?"

"Yes, and I guess my responses are telling you things about me."

Coco smiled and said, "Good guess. Now, did I order beef or horse as my main dish?"

Stu said stiffly that her last comment was stupidly intended as a diversion.

"You got me there, Stu."

However, she made no effort to explain herself.

Stu sighed. The bar assistant arrived and he ordered their choice of red wine to go with their beef dishes.

Later they stood alongside Coco's car in the public parking lot behind the bar where they had had met earlier.

"I knew it," he said with satisfaction.

"You knew what?"

He looked at the silver metallic Toyota 86 GT sports car and said, "I knew that I would find you wouldn't drive a granny mobile."

He nodded when she asked did he wish to hear the story behind her love for vehicle power and speed.

"Dad still owned his late father's Vincent Black Lightening motorcycle when I was fifteen and I was allowed to ride it a bit on our quite suburban street providing I didn't exceed 30 mph.

"One day my older cousin and I took it without permission to an abandoned airstrip."

"Barrie made his two runs and he rode back to our car and trailer glowing, saying he'd reached 75 mph and that was considered a high speed for kids in those days as few vehicles went as fast at that."

"Me being me, even at the age of fifteen, of course I had to go one better."

"I returned from my runs in two directions flushing and Garry said, "Jesus, how fast did you reach? The bike was screaming it's head off on both directions."

"I made him promise to tell no-one and said I clocked a max of 92 mph in the outward direction and hit 103 mph on the return journey. But the stupid prick told dad. I was ordered to not use the phone or to go out socially for a month for trying to kill myself on an extremely fast and powerful bike and, in the heat of the moment I was banned from driving 'for ever'."

"Dad sold the bike the next weekend. Despite that hoo-ha and mum almost suffering a nervous breakdown after being told of my misdeed, I remained unrepentant and I never lost my love of speed."

"Jesus, Coco," Stu said, being himself for once. "Aren't you just a standout babe with some astonishing attitudes and preferences and I daresay, they have made you what you are. And yet I guess you have no idea of how to hang on to boyfriends.

Coco gaped, wondering how the fuck could Stu possibly know her one weakness?

Stu said he was sorry for apparently shocking her.

"It's okay, you've touched on something I find hard to handle, which is contrary to who I am. At least you have shown the hidden side of you, indicating to me that you do have opinions and can express yourself forcibly. It suggests you do have balls."

Stu flushed hugely and he muttered he must be off.

"Not until you're kissed me."

That left him speechless.

"Very well, then I'm kissing you," she said, an helped herself but refrained from tonguing him.

He kissed back, a little, keeping his hands at his side, and muttered, "I've kissed a Super Babe and she kissed me. Holy fuck."

Giggling, Coco dug into her handbag and handed Stu her business card and told him to call and to think about doing more than kissing her.

"You will be wasting your time with me," he said defiantly.

"Try not to believe your bullshit Stu. My mission is to unshackled your chains and for that to succeed, you first need to shift out of the prison you regard as home. But that doesn't mean abandoning your mother and aunt. It merely means keeping your relationship with them in perspective. Good night dear one."

"Goodnight and thanks for the great time," he said, shuffling off to his car without attempting to kiss her again.

She called, "Stu, sit in the passenger seat of your car. I'm calling the service that I use and will request two cars with two drivers in each, one to ferry us home in our own cars and those drivers to be picked up by the other drivers. We are near enough to being drunk. It will be at my expense because you and your alone helped me celebrate my great day. Phone me tomorrow with details of a mate who will redecorate my new apartment for me. Perhaps you can work with him on the job over a weekend to be near me, that is if you like me enough to want to do that."

"Omigod. Thanks, and goodnight, Coco. Watch where I go to my vehicle so you know which car to send the relief driver to take me home."

"Well, he can't be deeply pissed to have worked that instruction out," Coco said aloud, amid a couple of hiccups. She thought she must get to know Stu better and he could be a good guy to have around at home. Who knows, they could prove to be eminently suitable and she could coach him into becoming a magnificent lover.

Giggling, she thought she'd be lucky if she found he wasn't a virgin despite having those two women at home on his back all the time. Perhaps he knocked off females over their desk at work. Well, he was rather a handsome bugger, cleanly shaven and very tidy hair.

Coco went to her car and played with herself. She'd figured that would avoid any chance of falling asleep awaiting their ferry-home drivers. God, she couldn't remember if she knew Stu's surname and guessed Stu was short for Stuart or Stewart.

Coco awoke the morning after celebrating her lease of a superior located and fitted out apartment to the sound of her phone ringing.

She groaned, "Who the fuck would call me at this ungodly hour."

She shrugged when she found it was 9.10 am according to her phone clock and the caller was without an ID.

"Coco Cleland."

"Stu Gladstone here, Coco. Thanks for saving me from a possible drunken driving charge had I been caught driving last night."

"Thanks Stu, is nice doing a good turn for people. Bye."

"Wait, we need to talk."

"Okay, I'm still half asleep. Your call awoke me."

"Oh, sorry. I thought a life-wire like you would have been writing for an hour before swimming 20 lengths of the apartment building's pool before returning from having breakfast out."

"I happen to be a night-oriented person."

"No matter. Mum doesn't want me to shift out. Bruce Gatland and I will call at 5.30 this evening at your new apartment if you give me the address. He can't believe Coco Cleland wants him and me to renovate her new apartment."

"How does this Bruce Gatland know me when I don't know him?"

"His wife made him sit with her to watch you being interviewed on TV when you arrived back from France. She already knew you through reading your newspaper articles. Bruce thinks you have a great arse... oh, I guess I wasn't supposed to say that."

"That's okay," Coco yawned. "I like Bruce already."

"What colour are your nipples."

"Excuse me!"

"Sorry, I was led to believe you would appreciate me too, asking about your intimate features."

"Oh Stu, I apologise. I like you being interested in me so intimately. My nipples are a peachy colour with redness highlighting I suppose. They protrude a bit and that seems to rather please men and the fact they become easily aroused also appeals, I understand. "

"And I repeat, I do like you taking an interest in me. You may also wish to know many of my readers admire my writing ability and believe by their comments that I also possess a fine brain."

Stu had no reply for that.

Coco gave Stu the address of her new apartment building and politely ended the call.

For much of that day, she worked on refining the draft of her next article for NFL (Left Field International? as she now called her online media employer. The theme of the article was it is not the end of the world when child calls you a dumb mother or father, or someone calls you brainless.

She emailed the draft to her boss.

Max who immediately called back and said the broadcast and print media were being deluged by outraged readers of her article published on the 'Coming from the Left Wing, Australia' website, claiming such unpatriotic rubbish should never had been published and a critic on radio that morning had thundered Coco Cleland should be burnt at a stake outside Parliament.

"The outrage is growing, Coco. I've just come from a meeting of our Australian board."

"Ah, at they want my head too?"

"What? Are you mad? The board has decided to double our subscription price for full access to our online articles, and have requested your contract by changed with your negotiated consent from a fortnightly contribution to a weekly article."

"Really? What the fuck does 'with my negotiated consent' mean?"

"It's assumed that you'll want a bucketload more money."

"Ah, then at least temporarily, I'm a star contributor?"

"Indeed, and keep your light shining and continue to shit on the heads of mindless Australians who think patriotism and intelligent thinking apply only to one's loyalty to favouring a particular brand of beer or a particular fast-food outlet."

She giggled.

Max said, "Does that giggle mean you appreciate me?"

"Yes, providing you don't snatch at my pussy again."

He laughed in relief and said he was filing her contribution just received.

"Choose another stunning article capable of rocking half the nation on their heels please."

"Hmmm, what about 'It's time to create a new entity to be called the Aboriginal Territory of Australia incorporating the Northern Territory with generous financial funding and administrative support supplied by the Federal Government?'

"Omigod, and don't hold back on the appalling way that this nation has historically treated its original nationals."

Coco said excitedly, "Let's launch it as a series to deal with the shit when it hits the fan and demand that the governance and development of the new territory be confined initially to a governing organisation as laid down in the Charter initially must be comprised of sixty percent membership of existing Aboriginal leaders."

"Great idea," Max enthused. "Any Charter would have to contain safeguards to protect interests of non-Aboriginal landholders, business owners and land occupiers including mining companies and various organizations with leases to exploit other resources on explicit terms and it should state that the name of its premier city, Darwin, must be retained."

The conversation was interrupted by Max taking an urgent telephone call on another line.

When he resumed talking to Coco, he said, "That call relates to Channel Nine wanting you and me on live during the early evening news tonight. I said yes, we'll be there. Okay?"

"I guess I must say yes. So yes."

"Let's resume this conversation later this evening, Coco. Say nothing to anyone about the topic of your second article. Let Australia wait in tense expectation, although I'll reveal during our interview this evening that you have been offered to supply us with a weekly instead of fortnightly contribution for publication."

"Okay, pick me up at 4.30 and we can be briefed and given a couple of drinks before the news at 6.00."

Max and Coco arrived at the TV studio and after he signed them in, he said darkly, "We are to face the hard-line bitch Erica Cousins, who usual conducts interviews on Australia's external affairs.

"So?"

"She'll hang us out to dry, Coco."

"Only if we allow her to do that."

Max eyed her and said, "You naturally have balls."

"That's probably the biggest compliment that any girl could receive from a guy, Max. So, thanks."

Media critics were unanimous in reporting that Channel 9's ten-minute live interview with as on critic described it, the swashbuckling online new upstart columnist, Australian Coco Cleland.

Interviewer Erica Cousins said that this new journalist to the international edition on the 'Coming from the Left Field' social media website had begun writing for an audited readership of 28.76 million paid subscribers, was responsible for riveting television.

One critic wrote in Sydney's largest circulating newspaper, that celebrated veteran interview Dame Erica Cousins clearly came out with her claws unsheathed ready to send this newly arrived young controversial and merciless online commentator Coco Cleland to her premature literary grave.

"Instead, the interview turned into a clash of two awesome personalities and, unexpectedly, it was Miss Cleland who knocked the doyen of top-level Australian TV interviewers on to her back-foot time, and time again. And then remarkable, in winding up the interview, Dame Erica said, "I've never experienced such a tough person to interview in my entire professional career. Coco, you should be given the role as Australia's chief international negotiator in foreign affairs."

"And Coco replied sweetly, 'Your Ladyship, that would be a grave mistake. I don't even know the meaning of international diplomatic savoir faire'."

"Many people including Dame Erica almost split their sides laughing."

After drinks at the studio, Max and Coco stood outside and he said, "That interview went wonderful well for us. You really are a star."

"I just strive to do my best. Look, I'll take a cab home."

"No, let my drive you to your apartment."

"Max, we have been drinking."

"Ah, you think I might hit on you again,"

"Enough said, okay? Just give me a chaste kiss and go."

"Meeting at my office at 9.00 in the morning to discuss your next article and the resources that could be useful to you."

"Great idea. Could we make it 9.30?"

He said 10.00 would be fine and kissed her good night in much the same way that close friends do.

In the cab, Coco called Stu.

"Hi," he said. "Great interview. You were brilliant. I told mum and Gloria I knew you but they scoffed and told me not to lie."

"I want you to stay with me tonight, okay?"

"Isn't that rushing it?"

"Okay, then I'll go home and masturbate."

"Um, that would be such a waste. I'll come to your apartment.'

"No, give me your address. I'm in a cab. Take me in to introduce me to your mother and her sister, to establish your credibility and reveal your obvious good taste in women."

"I can't sneak out if you do that."

"Too bad. Tell them I've invited you to sleep with me tonight."

"They'll kill me."

"Not if you say they are about to meet me. They are women, Stu. Women tend not to give up on chances like this. They may kill you when you return home, if you ever do."

The End