Geek Actually Season 1 Omnibus

by Cathy Yardley

  Oh, God, I sound like a housewife from the fifties who won’t say the word sex aloud.

  Then again, she was in the office. Best to keep her language as clean as possible.

  Aditi, fortunately, knew exactly what she meant. “Oooh, how exciting!” She sounded excited, anyway. “Are you going to go?”

  “That’s what I’m trying to decide. I just want a reality check, I guess. All the usual ‘stranger danger’ stuff about the Internet keeps cropping up in my mind.”

  “How did you find this party?”

  “Well, it’s all organized through a site called Fetlife—”

  Aditi’s laugh sounded high-pitched through the phone. “The kinky equivalent of Facebook. I have an account there to access some erotic writing groups. Did you ask Richard and Felice if they knew the party’s host?”

  “Oh. Yes. They were the ones who pointed me to this particular party in the first place.”

  “Miche, I really think you don’t have to worry, then. They wouldn’t steer you wrong. Will they be there?”

  “Not this time.” Michelle sighed. She had yet to meet anyone in the scene who intrigued her as much as Master Richard and his longtime slave, Felice. “I’ll be on my own.”

  “Well, text or call if you need moral support or if anything happens. If you’re really worried, send me the details and if I don’t get a check-in call from you, I’ll call the police.”

  Michelle felt a laugh bubble up out of her chest. “Oh, I’m sure that’s overkill. But thanks, Deet.”

  Aditi chuckled. “Now you can go back to your only worry being my book.”

  “Books, plural,” Michelle said. “You said in chat you were making some progress?”

  “Yes,” Aditi said quickly, but then backtracked. “Well, I’m making some notes.” Michelle felt her insides twist. So she still hasn’t even started it.

  She’d been worried before, but this was starting to sound like a full-blown case of writer’s block. “You know, I’d love to send a sample chapter to the sales reps, like a sneak peek. It can be completely different in the final book,” she said. “In fact, possibly not even included in the final book. Last year they read the prologue to Noah Ward’s book and in the end it was cut from the manuscript.”

  “Miche, the sequel won’t be on sale until next year. Do they really need a sample chapter right this second?”

  “No, they don’t need one right this second, but building early buzz for the next book while the current one is starting to get attention is important, too. Look, I thought giving you an incentive to just firm up one chapter—and it doesn’t even have to be that firm!—would help you, not cause drama.”

  “Drama!”

  Oh, shit.

  “I don’t mean it like that. You know I don’t. I’m not trying to up the pressure—I’m trying to give you some energy in a productive direction.”

  “Well I’m feeling pressured, okay?”

  Michelle’s own claws came out reflexively at Aditi’s angry tone. “Is it so bad that I want you to meet a few achievable goals to get you on track?”

  “Who says I’m not on track? You want book two that bad, you fucking write it!”

  Michelle didn’t know what to say to that. Her mother had never let her or Christina get away with throwing a tantrum. She’d smother their hot anger with cold rationality. Michelle had hated it as a child, but maybe that tactic made sense. “Aditi. Just a thousand words. By tomorrow. Can you do that? You can write that in an hour. Even if they end up being draft words—”

  “I can’t,” Aditi said, through gritted teeth. “I’ve got a fucking blog post about rape culture to write.” Then she hung up.

  Maybe that tactic hadn’t been the best after all.

  Michelle placed her phone gingerly into its cradle. And then picked up the Kindle again.

  CHRISTINA

  “Jesus fucking Christ, Christina, I thought you were on my side with this shit. We talked about this.”

  Christina finished dumping her lunch garbage before she turned around, bristling inwardly at the pissed-but-disappointed tone Stassi was shooting her way.

  It’s like an impression of my mother.

  “Which thing exactly did we talk about?” Christina asked, though she knew it had to be about Vivi. There was no other reason why the queen of the glam squad would be in Christina’s face.

  At least this time she hadn’t come backed by a mascara-wielding posse. Stassi snarled conspiratorially, “About your girl making my life hell.”

  “What’s she doing now?” Probably claiming to be allergic to all powder except some hard-to-find kind, Christina thought.

  “Have you seen what she looks like today? Of course you have.” Stassi herded Christina away from the other staff at craft services, keeping her voice low. “I’m betting those are your teeth marks.”

  “Okay, whoa, hold on a second. Where the hell are you applying makeup to her, again?” Christina been rough with her the previous night, the way Vivi liked it—demanded it, really—and there had been a lot of biting. On her inner thighs, her breasts…

  But I was careful. I avoided her neck. I’m sure of it. “If she’s got a hickey, I didn’t put it there.”

  “She’s got a bruise so black it looks like she got burned,” Stassi accused, running her fingers down the side of her own breast. “Right here.”

  “Since when did we start showing tits on basic cable?”

  “It’s sideboob,” the makeup artist spat as if that explained everything, and rolled her eyes.

  “Something that only shows on red carpet dresses, I thought.” Inwardly Christina cringed, though, wondering if the bruise would be gone before the awards show came up.

  Stassi huffed. “You know they want to show ‘everything but’ in these rapey scenes.”

  Christina rolled her shoulders, trying to play it cool. “Yeah, of course.” But she was thinking, Whoa, what? Rape scene? Vivi hadn’t mentioned the content of the upcoming scene, and Christina hadn’t paid attention to much other than where and what time each call was. “Realllll edgy, that’s our show.”

  “Like you should talk, Ms. Sadie Sadist?”

  And since when did Stassi decide defending starlets from debauchery was her job? “It’s consensual. She likes it.”

  “That’s what they all say.”

  I clearly did not have enough coffee this morning to keep up with the speed this day is moving. How did I end up arguing about consent with a makeup maven? “Are you kidding me? Every sex scene being a stupid-ass rape scene is a much bigger problem than a couple of consenting adults who like to play rough. You know that, right? You’re not dumb, Stass’, I know you know the difference.”

  “Still.”

  “Don’t you cover them over with a fake breast form or something anyway so the villain”—or the hero—“can rip her clothes off and there’s no worry that something will accidentally show?”

  “Yes, but,” Stassi sighed, “I’ll give you one guess who’s allergic to the adhesive.”

  Vivi better have brought the good shit today because I am going to need to be well baked if the afternoon is going to continue like this.

  TANEESHA

  Taneesha looked up from her computer and blinked her eyes. Everything looked like it had a blue glow around it. She had been staring at the monitor for too long—most of the afternoon. She cracked her knuckles. Her fingertips burned. That’s how hard and how long she had been typing. Normally she only got that way when writing code, but she had decided the best way to handle the busywork assignment she had been given was to burn through it as quickly as possible.

  She took her headphones off. The Doctor Strange soundtrack had ended a while ago, but she’d been so hyper-focused she hadn’t even noticed. Time to get a quick snack in the break room and then come back and proofread this sucker before landing it on Bruce’s desk. Maybe she’d print it out and plop it down in front of him for full effect. BAM, there you go.

  She rescued he
r phone from the depths of her bag to finish the Slack comment she’d started typing hours ago. Twenty texts? Who the hell has been texting me…

  They were all DM notifications from Twitter. She opened the Twitter app and there were hundreds of notifications, hundreds of mentions. Huh?

  @NeeshaManiac You deserve to die fuck off and die bitch if you can’t play with integrity you have none

  @NeeshaManiac is that your idea of fair play? Bet Starwisp would love to know an employee committed online assault and battery #thug

  @NeeshaManiac cuntcuntcuntcuntcuntcuntcuntcuntcuntcuntcuntcuntcunt #cunt

  They were all like that. Some of them more abusive than others, some bafflingly demanding she defend herself against “the accusations.”

  She finally came to one that explained what was going on.

  Uppity coon bitch @NeeshaManiac went after a coworker in WoW His story:

  https://www.reddit.com/r/gaminggeeks/i-got-pwned-and-i-know-who-did-it

  The link led to a Reddit post by an aggrieved Warcraft player.

  Steven.

  Oh, shit.

  @NeeshaManiac We know where you work bitch #fornow

  Taneesha grabbed a granola bar from the break room and headed directly to HR.

  CHRISTINA

  Christina tried to stay close but out of the way during the shoot. Normally she didn’t pay any attention to the actual filming of the action, and she had never let the show’s penchant for starlet T&A bother her. But this was different.

  Nothing like watching two buff idols for fangirls everywhere manhandle your girlfriend. She listened with half an ear while Warren barked at the lighting techs about “the sex scene.” The script supervisor called it “the sex scene.” Everyone called it “the sex scene.”

  It’s not a fucking sex scene. It’s a rape scene, Christina thought, fuming quietly. That’s half the fucking problem right there.

  You know who would agree? Michelle.

  She took out her phone and stepped away from the interior set before someone could bark at her for it, looking to see who was in the #rebelscum chat.

  Christina: This is exactly what I was talking about earlier. I’m so fucking sick of this. They’re filming a scene right now, literally it’s one guy holding a girl down so the other guy can rape her without her clawing his eyes out, and everyone on set calls it “the sex scene” not “the rape scene” like that’s better somehow—they don’t even realize how fucked up this is

  Aditi: I thought you were immune to Hollywood’s stupidity, C?

  Christina: Normally I am but this takes the fucking cake

  Christina: Tell me I’m overreacting

  Aditi: You’re not overreacting.

  Elli: That sounds really messed up, C. *hugs*

  Michelle: Is it that actress you’ve been getting involved with?

  Christina: How’d you guess

  Michelle: I’ll confess. I find the show you’re working on so rapey I haven’t actually watched it. I don’t think you’re overreacting either.

  Aditi: Rapier than GoT?

  Michelle: I’m considering breaking up with Game of Thrones for the same reason.

  Elli: Maybe you just need a break from a toxic environment, C?

  Christina: yeah right

  Taneesha: Speaking of toxic environments. You will not believe what is happening to me right now.

  “Hey, Chris.”

  She looked up from the phone to see Warren standing there. “Yeah?”

  “I need a refill.” He had a coffee mug in his hand but Christina knew that wasn’t what he was talking about.

  “First thing tomorrow,” she said.

  “You got nothing?”

  “Not on me at the moment.” What am I, the Walgreens drive-through?

  He jerked his head toward the sound of Vivi screaming on set. “She seems pretty well supplied.”

  She has to be to put up with the shit you put her through. “I can ask when she’s done here, but it’s a long shot.”

  Warren gave Christina a calculating look. She knew that look. That was the appraisal of how much longer she was going to keep her job. “Do what you can,” he finally barked, and then stomped away.

  The scene wrapped as soon as the screaming stopped. Christina moved in with a bathrobe immediately. Vivi’s tits were hanging right out, but her nipples had been completely covered with foundation so they wouldn’t show if they got caught on camera. The bruise, too, though it was starting to show through where the makeup had been rubbed.

  “Trailer. Shower. Now,” Christina said.

  Vivi wrapped an arm around her and let her steer her across the lot to her trailer. “God, what a pig.”

  “Which one?”

  “Well, both of them, but I mean Atticus. Kept grabbing me by the tit because, get this, he said it was ‘realistic.’”

  “Oh, like he’s raped a woman before?” Christina shuttled Vivi up the stairs and into the trailer and then shut the door behind them. “What a fucking asshole!”

  Vivi slid her hands over Christina’s hips. “Forget about him now. You remember what I said about fight scenes?”

  Christina’s rage surged and she slammed Vivi against the door, which rattled almost as loud as the angry thoughts in her head. “That wasn’t a fight scene. He actually grabbed you!”

  “It’s just part of the job—”

  “Did you like it?” Christina demanded. “Did you?”

  Vivi took a deep breath, wrapping one leg around Christina’s hip. “No. No, actually. You want to know how I got through it? The truth?”

  “Yes.” Christina gritted her teeth.

  Vivi moved her mouth to Christina’s ear. “Thinking about you.”

  “Vivi.”

  “I’m serious.” As her lips moved, they brushed the edge of Christina’s earlobe.

  “It’s still incredibly fucked up. Fucking clichéd, male-gaze bullshit—”

  “You’re getting all women’s studies professor now.” Vivi pressed a kiss to her cheek. “I love this protective side of you.” Christina growled in response.

  “And I love that it’s you and me against the biz. But chill, okay? Don’t stress. It’s part of the job. You and I both know it. Besides. I get to kill one of the guys in revenge in a later episode.”

  “That’s supposed to make me feel better?”

  “Come on. It’ll be fun. Maybe I’ll go all Glenn Close on him with a knife and tell him he has to just let me because it’ll be ‘realistic.’” Vivi’s laugh was pure evil, and Christina hugged her fiercely.

  TANEESHA

  Taneesha woke up sore and tired. She hadn’t slept well. She considered resetting her alarm for another hour, since Starwisp was supposedly good about “flex time” for developers, but she wanted to talk to a manager in HR first thing this morning. That’s what they’d told her yesterday: Come back tomorrow when Jim Cantrow can see you. He’s the man to speak to about this sort of thing.

  She’d disabled Twitter notifications completely and had shut her phone off during the night. She turned it on and then brushed her teeth while it powered up.

  She was rinsing her mouth out when it started to buzz. Text messages.

  I thought I shut off text notifications?

  She forced herself to get in the shower before looking at it. If there was some other emergency, best to meet it after a shower and with clean clothes on. It took a supreme act of will not to look at the phone until after she’d toweled off and gotten dressed. She made it all the way to the kitchen and had a piece of bread in the toaster before she finally gave in.

  She opened the text app and lost her appetite immediately. Direct texts. Saying the same crap as before, calling her every racist, sexist epithet in the books, plus making up a few new ones. With graphic descriptions of the ways she deserved to be raped or killed.

  What the fuck is wrong with these people?

  She took screencaps of a bunch of the choice ones in case that might be useful later. She didn
’t know.

  Her car seemed fine, but she walked all the way around it before getting in, just to make sure no one had messed with it. She drove to work with her hands tapping nervously on the wheel. Was this really happening? A lynch mob, a literal lynch mob on the Internet. She had the urge to throw her phone in the dumpster by the employee parking lot as she walked from her car to the front door of Starwisp’s offices. At least they had security. She badged in and wondered if she should say something to reception about it.

  She figured she should probably talk to HR first. They would be the ones to inform the rest of the company if necessary, right? With that in mind, she didn’t even go to her desk first, but went straight to the HR office.

  The receptionist there was a blonde woman with a deep Texas accent. “And how may I help you?” she asked sweetly, no sense of recognition in her voice.

  “I was here yesterday, remember? Taneesha Adams.” It was hard to believe the woman didn’t remember her. Taneesha wasn’t even sure if there was another black woman working for Starwisp; the cleaning and janitorial work was done by a third-party contractor. She had bigger things to worry about than this woman playing dumb, though. “I’m here to see Jim Cantrow?”

  “Mr. Cantrow isn’t available right now. Could you make an appointment to see him next week, perhaps?”

  “I was told last night to come back and talk to him today.”

  “Oh, and who told you that?”

  “Marie. An HR officer named Marie said he was the one who could handle my problem.”

  The woman’s smile never wavered. Neither did the syrupy sweet tone of her voice. “Well, Mr. Cantrow is out all week at a conference. Shall I see if someone else can help you?”

  For fuck’s sake.

  Had the other woman lied to her? Or did she just not know that Cantrow was out? Maybe his trip started today and she didn’t realize? “Please. It’s pretty urgent that I speak to someone.”

  “And what’s the nature of your problem? Insurance? Benefits? Hiring?”

  Taneesha tried to think of what the right way to describe it would be. She settled on: “Harassment.”

  “Hold on just a moment.” The blonde woman picked up the phone and dialed. After a few moments she hung up and tried another extension. Now a tiny frown appeared between her eyebrows, but it disappeared as someone came on the line. “Marie, I have an employee here with a confidential difficulty.”